Vieng Xai

stone

The cave network is buried under limestone karsts

A garden outside the caves

Politburo meeting table

The bombing fields

An unexpected bedroom guest!

Failing to trap him in a cheese container.  We did not represent the USA well when we required a twelve year old Lao boy to come in and kill it for us.

The remote and beautiful Vieng Xai was sparsely populated before 1964, when the Pathet Lao (the revolutionary communist party in Laos) made the city its political headquarters.  Vieng Xai was an attractive center not only for its proximity to North Vietnamese support, but for the geological features that would help the movement outlast U.S. bombing.  From 1964 until 1973, over two million tons of ordnance were dropped on Laos, more tonnage of bombs than fell on Europe during World War Two.  Laos is, per capita, the most heavily bombed country in history.

Underneath the limestone karsts which compose the Vieng Xai scenery is a series interconnecting caves, chambers, and man-made tunnels.  The Pathet Lao sought refuge from U.S. bombers inside the caves, and there they directed the war against the Royal Lao Army in the south and against the U.S. in the air above.  Hidden behind thick blast walls were the military high command, a small hospital cave, a factory for sewing clothing, a large theater, an artillery cave, and, in the large Khamtay Siphandone and Xanglot caves, the barracks.  A water and drainage infrastructure made the caves habitable for the 2000 staff and soldiers that lived therein.  An air filtration machine had to be operated by hand to bring fresh air into the caves through meters of limestone, while natural spring water dripped continuously through the rocks, providing fresh water.

The caves were our reward for venturing so far off the worn path.  There may have only been six other tourists in town.  The caves are scattered about, so we travelled by bicycle to see as much as we could in an afternoon.  We were accompanied by a guide, though she did not speak English.  But we did have personal audio players, which had corresponding tracks for each site we visited.  In addition to the historical narrative, backed by music and sound effects, the guides featured first hand accounts of surviving Pathet Lao (translated to English, though you could hear the original voice behind the dubbing).  The accounts were alternately humorous, uplifting, and upsetting.  Hearing a night-watchmen describe how to spot incoming bombers, and what actions he took during an attack, while looking out from his post at the mountains from which an attack might arrive, set a powerful scene.  And some details were downright amazing: that there "were so many tigers outside the caves at night that you didn't know one was near until you stepped on it;" that all white chickens and ducks had to be slaughtered, because it was the light-colored fowl that bombers were trained to target.  These voices paired with the atmospheric and fascinating cave environments brought us intimately close to, what is to us, a distant past.  I wouldn't be this excited about an audio tour if it weren't really, really well done!

Without passing judgment on the politics of the war, I'll say that the contrast between the poverty of Laos and the military might that fell upon it is incredible to me.

Nearly as memorable in Vieng Xai, oddly enough, was the Indian food at the small (a box room with a kitchen and four plastic tables) restaurant Sabaidee Odisha.  The young owner Prakash migrated from eastern India to work in the Lao mines for three years, and he set up his kitchen on his way out.  For our inaugural dinner (we ate with him every meal we had in town), we placed a long order and drank a beer before we watched him disappear on a motorbike down the main street.  Confused and hungry - had we been betrayed? -, we sat anxiously in the empty room until he returned a half hour later with a bag of groceries he purchased from the outdoor market.  Relief.  Ultimately, our final plate arrived over four and a half hours later!  But once we adjusted our time expectations, this became part of his charm.  And what else can you do in silent Vieng Xai at night?  For three nights we waited and watched Bollywood movies (SINGHAM!), warmed by the small wood burning stove set at our feet (so far north it is actually cold during the winter), while Prakash prepared, sometimes with the encouragement of his mining buddies, what was easily the best Indian food I've ever had.  It was so far beyond any Indian food I've had elsewhere, I don't know what to say.  He is also just unbelievably nice.  He is moving back to India, partly, because he receives only a few customers a week in such geographic isolation.  How fortunate we were to catch him!  He deserves a statue, but this is my internet tribute.