Religion is an integral part of Laos society where the majority are Budhists.



The monks dressed in orange and red ropes are still visible everywhere and it is largely seen as becoming a novice (junior monk) is seen as an opportunity to get an education and support your family if you come from a poor rural area.


 


The high influx of tourists, especially to Luang Prabang is therefore a bit of a win-win situation for everyone. The tourists support the temples in the area by paying their admission fees to visit and on both my trips I have found that the monks are keen to have a conversation as it is a way of practicing their language skills.

In Luang Prabang the monks walk in procession every morning to collect rice from worshipper along the roads. Before sunrise there are hundreds of monks walking the streets in every direction. There is an equal horde of tourists trying to take photos of these monks and equally tourists handing out (sometimes dubious) rice to them.



There are posters around the city encouraging being there and seeing the monks as well as providing some guidelines such as keeping a certain distance, not using flash photography and if you hand out rice then where to get it from. Most of it common sense really, so it was sad to see how some would be blocking the paths and sticking their camera phones with flashes into the monks faces.





Sacha and I went there a couple of mornings, but because of the time of the year everything was dark and because the monks move quite fast through the streets it was a challenge getting good shots.



One afternoon we walked past a temple and a group of monks were in progress of cutting down a large tree and afterwards trimming off the branches. They were going to use some of the tree trunk for traditional drums and the rest for ornamental purposes inside the temple.







In the late afternoons you would hear them chanting in the small rooms of meditations, chanting and prayer. These are often smaller places of worship and not part of the main temples which are used for more ceremonial purposes.
One evening I heard such chanting and went to investigate and found these monks. Definitely one of my favourite moments in Luang Prabang.



A common assumption and misconception is that the monks live by an ancient code with a simple life, so it is quite interesting to see that even they have adopted modern technology with smart phones and cameras.

The locals are still relying on motorbikes to get around. They are far cheaper and more convenient in the towns. It is even possible to fit an entire family onto a single motorbike.







Younger kids and high schoolers ride their push bikes for transport.



Although Aiden and the other kids definitely preferred the motor bikes.



Nothing too flash for weddings - a normal new car will suffice. If you notice the sign on the door, then I am not sure if the bride was expecting to come home to 'Meat & Sausage'.



There are also some vintage cars around which have survived since colonial times - like this 1952 Citroen.

On the last day in Luang Prabang we went to the local ten pin bowling alley.

We had heard and read that this is the place where things are happening in Laos. When we got there the place was totally deserted apart from a few staff members.

We did play bowling and it is a bit surreal to play by ourselves in this fairly modern centre in Laos.



They didn't have any support rails for the kids, but Aiden especially did really well and the kids managed to beat Kim on points.

Just outside Luang Prabang there is this amazing waterfall cascading down a limestone creek.

We decided to get up early to go a take photos, so that we could be there early before all the crowds arrived.





















At the entrance to the park there is also a Bear rehabilitation centre. They rescue bears from captivity and keep them until it is safe to release them back into the wild (if ever). The bears have a big area and seem to love climbing and sleep in the hammocks provided.

What I especially remember from my last trip to Laos was the kids. One of my most cherished photos is one of two little girls holding a bouquet of flowers that I took 20 years ago (it is on this blog if you look for it through the search function).

The children are still there. They are still very shy, dirty and smiling.











They make up their own games such as these kids at a school playing marbles with tamarind seeds.







These kids were playing a game where the kid under the table had to poke the feet of the kids above the table.



And some things never change, kids teasing each other.





The girls in the school yard 'hang out'.



Visiting a local school was great for our kids to get a glimpse of how other kids live.







Along the road we stopped and a family was outside with the mother breastfeeding her son in their outdoor living room. This is where everything happened such as the cooking, washing, feeding etc.





The chicken were running around freely



Here is a rare shot that Kim took with my camera in it.



It is a very family oriented life they live

Our kids had a blast of a time in Laos. They loved each other company (for the most part) and sometime looked like real little travellers.








They were respectful at the temples and even offered a prayer.





At other times they behaved like animals and should be lock away in a cage.





But for the most part they liked exploring things that us adults wouldn't see such as this crater from a crash landed U.F.O.

For getting around the towns in Laos we mainly used Tuk-Tuks. These are small motorbike powered minibuses and the experience can be very mixed. Most of them are generally good, but some have bad brakes have a plume of smelly two stroke engine smoke trailing behind them. We could easily fit our two families into one and I'd joke that there would even be room for another couple of adults.



The kids loved the tuk-tuks and have the fresh air blowing in their hair while riding.



The only downside is that you'd never quite know what the fare would be until you started bargaining and from town to town the fares seemed to be very different. Even though I believe I am reasonable proficient at bargaining, I'm still confident that we paid more that the locals would be paying for the same trips.











For the longer trips we would catch either local buses (mini vans) or in some instances it was worthwhile us hiring a private bus as we were enough people to fill it.

From Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang we hired a private van taking us across the mountain pass at Kasi. Last time I went through here it was in an open bus and at the pass it was raining and really cold. This time round we had a beautiful clear day with a great view of the valley below from the top.





The week before they had a lot of rain and a landslide had taken out large parts of the last section of road (I read in the local newspaper a few days earlier that the road was closed). Our little van was struggling getting enough grip and our driver had to reverse to get enough of a run-up in the next attempt to make it through the steep and muddy section.

The larger trucks were really struggling getting through.

The morning markets are interesting. This is where the locals still go to buy their fresh produce and all kinds of specialties are being sold here. It would be easy to go here and get the ingredients for some really delicious food.

There are also some unusual things that we don't see in our western kitchens. such as:

Dried Squids:



Fresh fish - of cause, but this have sharp teeth.


A protein and herb table that would make most chefs (and diners) salivate:






The Chillies in Lao are more hot than in Thailand - We loved the heat.


A pig:


River crabs:


Beetles:


Dried rats:




Caterpillar - these are yummi when fried:


Frogs:

River snails:


Dried squid, shrimps and fish:

They still manufacture silk they way they used to. It was interesting for the kids to see the process from small caterpillar eggs that hatch to worms to the production of the silk itself.






I had always wondered where the colour blue (Indigo) came from. I knew it used to come from a seashell, but I was fairly certain that this wouldn't be the case here. It turns out that they use a special leaf from a plant that when mixed with water and left fermenting/oxidising turns into a blue dye.





They also use plants for most of the other colours.





After they spin the thread they use traditional weaves to make it into pieces of garment. These days the silk garments are fairly expensive - hundreds of dollars, but it used to be really cheap.

During the dry season the people of Luang Prabang builds traditional bamboo bridges across the smaller river. This saves them a lot of time (and cost) to cross directly into the centre of town rather than a long detour to the other larger bridges.

It also earns them a small income to charge foreigners a small fee to cross the bridges.

Last night Kim and I went to the show Velvet at the Sydney Opera House.

It was a combination of circus, burlesque and boogie nights (70's music) in one show.




The show had great music with Marcia Hines and Brendan Maclean and the performers were great. I think everyones favourite was the guy with the hula hoops.

I don't know for sure which ones are Claus and which ones are Rene.

This post is mostly about Claus when he was at his top as one of Denmarks top tennis players.

I have kept scans of all the newspaper clippings from when he was winning a lot of tournaments.





























































In the mid 90's he started to get pretty sick and although he still tried to play tennis it was never at the same level again. Eventually he more or less gave up. His illness took to great a hold of him. These are some of the 'darkest' photos I have of him while he was struggling with his schizophrenia and were taken shortly before I moved to Australia.





He lost contact with most of his friends and was very dependent on my mum and dad as well as other support programs in place.







I prefer to remember him as he was before he passed away.


















This poem reminds me of him.

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.

I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.
The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.

The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.

—Meggie Royer

Here are some more photos from my childhood in no particular order.

The first ones from a New Years eve where we got a bit silly with the hats. These were taken at a New Years even in Kenya and before my brother got really sick, so probably around 1989/90.



And here is Claus.



And my mum.




I was really good at shooting when I was a kid and won lots of championships. This photo is one of the few things I have from that time.


This is Claus and I with our dog.



Not sure which ones of these is Claus and which is me.




















This was taken just christmas day in the back yard of my grandma's (Mormor) house. We got the skis as a christmas present. All the fields behind her house belonged to my mothers brother Flemming.



I think this may be my brother. For the first time I've noticed the photo in the background. It looks like this may be a photo of my mum with her two sisters and brother and what could be her dad Raimer in the middle.















This would most likely be the new years eve where we were trapped by the snow 1978/79. We were supposed to have celebrated with the family but couldn't even get out of the house. Delicious with a glass of milk and a pie.






We didn't have a lawn in the back yard. Instead we had pebbles...lots of fun shoveling them.







This I think is a christmas eve dinner at my grandmas (mormor) place. My mum on the left and my uncle Flemming in the middle. Not sure who the person standing up in. It could be my grandmas brother. Possibly from around 1976/77


I think it is my great grandpa (Raimer) in the middle row number two from the left. The title of the photo says that it is Christoffer (??) in the top left corner. Looking at the age of the boys this would have been taken in the 1920's.


Claus dancing aeound the christmas tree and my mum and grandma (Bedstemor/Farmor).


From left to Right. My grandma (On my dads side/Bedstemor/farmor), Knud Aage (My uncle/dads brother), My mum (in the foreground), My grandad (in the background), Irene (my auntie/dads sister), Grete and I assume the baby is Vinnie which means that it is likely that my mum was pregnant with Claus (born in July).






















This was taken at my grandparents place and after my brother got sick. He was really suffering at this point.






This is one of the happiest family photos I have and the only one I have a print of.



Going for a walk at Marielyst with Lott and Willy some of our german friends. Claus in the foreground and my dad on the right. I think you can just spot me in yellow pants in the background.



I think this is at Lotte and Willy's summer house.






Not sure if this is Claus or myself being babtised. It is my grand mother being god mother.











This was taken outside our summer house in Marielyst.



My brother number 2 from the top right on his school photo.



Claus at daycare number 4 from the top left.



Me at day care top left.

Here is some more old photos of my mum. This time with here brother and sisters.

This first one if probably one of the oldest. You can tell that the photo was shot in black and white and that the negative was later coloured (badly). It would be my mum in the middle with her two sisters Eli (the oldest on the right) and Yrsa.




This is my mum in the middle with what I assume is cousins.





I think it is my grandmother (Karen) holding my mum.


Here is the same as the first photo, but this time without the colour.



My mum and her sisters playing in the courtyard of their farm


My mum with her older sisters.


Eli, Yrsa, Sonja and Flemming Kragh.


Having her photo taken as a little girl.


Upset about having her photo taken?
























My mum with her younger brother Flemming.


As a liitle girl


My mum in school.





From left to right...Eli, Yrsa my mum (Sonja) and Flemming.


As a young girls/woman...possibly from her Konfirmation.



My mum as a girl scout (no 4 from the left).


It is Flemming in the middle and my mum on the right.

When I was a kid we would every summer travel to Southern Europe with our caravan.

Usually travelling through Swizerland or Austria ending up in Italy (Either Lido di Jesolo or the Italian Riviera). Underway we would visit old friends of my mum and dad from the time they were working in Italy.

Here are some photos from that time.









I just noticed the burn scar on my arm on the above photo. I think this is one of the few childhood photos where you can really see it.




















This was out caravan while travelling.








This is our caravan with the tent up in the middle.

This weekend we took the kids for a walk with some friends from Maroubra to Lurline Bay.

It is a nice little pleasant walk that is easy for the kids.




They loved jumping between the boulders.




...and exploring the small rock pools.







Because of the recent storms the beach was full of Blue bottles, so no playing in the sand this time around.





They are nasty little creatures that will sting you badly if you touch them.




This surfer was being very careful in his bare feet.

Earlier this month it was Lucas birthday.

We didn't have a kids party for him, but we did celebrate with the family.







We gave him a new bike for his birthday...he was stunned and didn't know what to think of it, but he loves riding it now.

Last weekend there was a Lego exhibition in the city.

We caught the train in to St James station and walked from there.





It was a fairly small exhibition with my favourite being the pirate ship with all the details of the lower decks.












There was also some Ninjago and Star wars.










And a lot of other pieces.

Rather than keeping all the kids artwork I instead take photos of it.

Here is some of the latest additions.