Laos > The flight is canceled!

Although it was quite chilly last night, I wasn’t really cold thanks to an extra blanket. Breakfast is served in the hall: baguette, scrambled eggs, and coffee or tea. At half past seven, we set off toward the Plain of Jars. These mysterious jars are spread over three sites in an area of thirty by thirty kilometers. Along the way, we also see the large bomb craters from the Vietnam War in the 1960s–1970s. I hadn’t realized that Laos was involved in this war. The Xieng Khouang province was heavily bombed. In this province alone, more bombs were dropped than were used in the entire Second World War. Many of the unexploded landmines remain buried in the mud, making the area dangerous to enter even today. The provincial capital, Xieng Khouang, became so unsafe that it was abandoned. Nowadays, Phonsavan is the new capital. Fortunately, the Plain of Jars was cleared a few years ago by the demining organization MAG. Stakes mark which areas are safe to walk on. We first visit Site Three.

Laos - The redandwhite posts indicate where it is safe and unsafe to walk in the minefield

Huge jars lie among the trees on a hill. I assume these are some sort of grave markers, though their exact meaning is unknown. We walk to Site Two, following the MAG stakes. Along the way, we pass villages, rice fields, and many bomb craters. Here too, we see the jars. By bus, we then drive to Site One. This site contains the largest jar, standing 2½ meters tall with a diameter of 2½ meters. In a nearby cave, the effects of the war are still visible. Several Laotians hid in the cave during the bombings. The Americans learned about it and dropped two bombs on the cave. Two large round holes in the roof are still evidence of this. In the afternoon, we head to the airport to fly to the capital of Laos, Vientiane—a flight of about half an hour. By road, it would take over ten hours. The small airport is just outside Phonsavan. Luggage is weighed, and the results are carefully noted. While waiting in the departure hall, the whiteboard shows the departure time delayed by two hours. Delay! Instead of three in the afternoon, we now fly at five. There is nothing to do but wait. An hour later, the man reappears at the whiteboard: the flight is canceled! The flight will only depart tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. What a disappointment—another night in Phonsavan. Our luggage is returned, loaded onto tuk-tuks at the airport, and we drive back with three fully loaded tuk-tuks. The little vehicles clearly struggle with the heavy load. At the hotel, there is still room for another night, which is fortunate since we occupy all but one room.

Laos - The largest jar has a diameter of 2 meters and is over two meters high

Perry swaps rooms as much as possible so everyone only has to sleep in the musty basement once. Unfortunately for Staf and me, our room has a double bed. There is no choice but to swap and sleep in the basement again. I feel disappointed that the journey is delayed. I decide to go for a walk. I stroll alone through Phonsavan, walking through the market building. Excited children reach out to shake hands—wonderful! I walk between houses, past boys playing football, and past the local temple. Everywhere I go, people look surprised at first, then quickly smile and greet me with a friendly “Sabahdee!” I notice that Phonsavan has many large and relatively luxurious houses, a stark contrast with the rural homes. After about an hour, I return near the hotel via the local market. In the evening, we all have dinner together in the same restaurant as last night.