From Vientiane to Luang Prabang

I have often heard that if you’re going through Hell the best thing to do is to just keep going. I can testify that this is true. People, I have been through Hell. Many of you will have to start paying old debts because, let me tell you, it has frozen over.

Hell is a ten-hour ride from Vientiane to Luang Prabang on the bumpiest, curviest, most nauseating road ever created, with a driver who is either immune to the cold, or thinks that in Canada we enjoy freezing weather.

This week we held our sessions with AFESIP three days in a row, instead of spread out during the week, so that we could enjoy a long weekend away before starting our grueling schedule with the VYDA day camp on Monday. When Victor and Julie told me they had rented a sixteen-seat van to take us to a beautiful city high in the mountains I thought, “Awesome! I’ll have plenty of room to sleep.”

Not so my friends, not so.

When I set foot into the van the first thing I saw was a Lao family who took up the first row of three seats, the second thing I saw was a stack of boxes that took up the last row of four seats. That leaves nine seats. One was for the driver, and one was the passenger seat, which Victor took. One was in between the driver and Victor, which no one wanted. That leaves six seats. There were four of us left to be seated, plus our bags. Julie took a row of three seats to lie down and sleep. That left three seats for three people.

It was Hell, and it was cold. If I didn’t have a sinus infection before the ride, (which I did), then I was sure to have one after. I had no room, I was freezing, and the road was so bumpy it literally sent me flying into the air on several occasions. On top of all that, the road was a succession of one sharp curve after another. I actually vomited in my mouth a few times, but I swallowed it back down so as not to make the entire ride worse for everyone. I have to admit, as I watched Julie sleeping peacefully, I liked her a little bit less than usual.

Half-way through the ride Julie woke up and graciously told one of the guys to take a seat in her row, which meant I had two seats to try and get some sleep on. I was very appreciative, but it really didn’t make the ride that much less disagreeable. Even though I had a bit more room, the constant swaying motion of the van still made me sick, and every time I closed my eyes to sleep a bump would send me flying into the air, eyes wide open in shock.

After a few more hours I fell asleep thanks to pure exhaustion. When I woke up, we were high up in the mountains. The view was beautiful, but scary. We were driving on a tiny unpaved road at the very edge of the mountain cliff. The turns were so sharp that every new corner left us open to the possibility that we would turn and come face to face with a vehicle rolling in the opposite direction. There was a constant image playing through my head in which the driver would turn a corner, see an oncoming vehicle, swerve to the right to avoid it, and send us all tumbling down to a terrifying and painful death.

I buckled my seatbelt and tightened it.

Julie and Victor assured me that the end was worth the means, but I couldn’t imagine any city so great that it would make me forget this horrible ride. I really have to start listening to them more often.

What they don’t tell you about Hell is that you have to go through it to get to Paradise. Or as the locals call it, Luang Prabang.