Phonsavan – bombs, bombs, bombs, more bombs and Jars.

After visiting the baguette stall to get a fresh cheese and tofu sandwich to pack up for my lunch, I was on my way to one of the many bus stations dotted around Luang Prabang. My tuk tuk driver pointed out which minivan was mine, my luggage was passed up to the roof and secured and I was off again. This time to Phonsavan – a town which is certainly off the backpacker trail. The journey passed without incident, I was the only foreigner on the van, the scenery was even more stunning than before. The mountain twist and turns does mean that the maximum speed is approx 30 - 40kph – perfect for taking in the views. After going nearly 4 hours, I thought I might actually be the first one to ask for a toilet stop but then the van stopped at the top of the mountain. All the blokes piled out and started to relieve themselves. Luckily my overland truck training meant I can spot a patch of long grass at the side of any road and quick as a flash I was there. I am always prepared for toilet stops and carry toilet paper in my pocket at all times. The remaining three hours of the journey passed quite comfortably.

As the van pulled into Phonsavan I was immediately surrounded my tuk tuk drivers trying to grab me and sell me a guesthouse. I don’t take well to being grabbed – my luggage hadn’t even been unloaded. From my research I knew where the minivan station was in relation to the guesthouse I was going to try first, so I walked. Much to the amazement of the tuk tuk drivers who started to follow me down the road. After 10 minutes I had pretty much walked down the main street and found myself a room. I had come to Phonsavan primarily to visit the Plain of Jars. These are thousands of limestone jars spread across the landscape. No one knows how old they are, or what they were used for. My guesthouse said it did tours to the Jars site, so I enquired. The chap told me alot about the places of interest around Phonsavan – each place of interest roughly 35-70km away. Then he told me the price $90. Of course – it would be a private tour. He doesn’t do group tours. He said he could offer me a cheaper price if we went by motorbike, but still, it was far more than I was hoping to pay. I headed off to the various travel agencies I had seen on the main road. They all had signs outside offering their tours but when I enquired, they all said the same thing. The tours were not running yet, there were no tourists – I was the only falang about. I had one more place to try. A guesthouse on the outskirts was recommended for his tours. I went off to find Mr Kong. When I got there, my heart leaped, I could see other westerners. Mr Kong told me he was running one tour in the next couple of days. It was 150,000k, just under £15. Great. He runs six different trips and the trip that was going was option 2 – he pointed to the noticeboard so I could read up about it. My heart fell again. Of the 6 trips, 5 visited Plain of Jars sites plus various other locations, the other one, option2, visited the local waterfall and a village in the hills. I couldn’t believe it, I was so close to finding a group tour – silly Dutch tourists coming all the way to Phonsavan and booking the waterfall trip! Mr Kong

wished me luck in trying to find another group tour but he did not believe I would be successful. He was right. I was in a foul mood. I had come all this way and it looked as if I wouldn’t be able to get to the jars without spending an absolute fortune. I had already been advised that the road to Jars sites 2 and 3 was atrocious, dusty and dirty and under construction and not really suitable at the moment for taking a motorbike down. After witnessing some of the other Lao roads I knew what that meant. I stomped and sulked for a bit and went to get some food. There was an Indian restaurant close by that had really good reviews, so I thought I would try it out. My aubergine and potato curry was so oily and greasy that I couldn’t eat all of it. Garlic naan was ok. This did not improve my mood at all. It was half past 6 now, which was the same time that a film was being shown free in a local establishment, so I went for a look.
The local establishment was a place called MAG. This stands for Mines Advisory Group. Phonsavan and the surrounding area of Laos has the dubious honour of being the most bombed place on the planet (per head of population). A barrage of bombs was dropped every 8 minutes, 24 hours a day, for 10 years. The most incredible thing is that Laos was being bombed by a country it was not at war with, a country that had sign a pact in Geneva stating it would not drop a single bomb on Laos. Laos was bombed to smithereens by the Americans during the “Vietnam” War. Between 1964 and 1973 over 2 million tonnes of bombs were dropped. Did I mention Laos was neutral towards America. Even more astonishingly was that this was done without the knowledge of the American population or even half of congress. Most of what happened has only just been made public in America – within the last 8 years or so. It is known as the Secret War. The film I was going to watch was made by MAG to raise awareness of what happened and what is still happening today

At first American bombers targeted military operations, then it started bombing the cattle and agriculture trying to destroy the food supply (all in the name of preventing communism) then when the war in Vietnam got so bad that the planes could not close enough to the Vietnamese targets it simply blanket-bombed Laos on the way back to the airbases. It was too dangerous and risky (apparently) to try and land the planes that still had live bombs aboard so they dropped them on the East of Laos instead. [Sometimes they dropped them on Cambodia too – just to make a change. Its not like a revolutionary group who were anti-American and against being bombed for no reason, sprang up calling itself the Khmer Rouge. That worked out fine!] Unfortunately the majority of bombs dropped were cluster bombs. These are tennis ball size bombs full of ball-bearings that detonate on impact. But not if they land in water or in mud – which is what alot of the Laos countryside is. It is estimated that over 30% of the bombs did not explode. Cluster bombs are often referred to as terrorist bombs as they use the same principles as say a nail bomb. They will not do much damage to military

targets but will maim and kill the local population and livestock. The film I watched called ‘Bombies’ showed the work done by MAG to try and clear areas of unexploded cluster bombs. Because they look like tennis balls, children often pick them up when they see them, with devastating consequences. They will explode when hit, and as Laos agriculture is done by hitting the soil with a hoe many farmers are victims, losing arms, eyesight and often bleeding to death. MAG have trained up hundreds of locals (alot of them women) to become bomb disposal officers. It showed them diffusing 4 bombs found outside a school – a school that has been visited 17 times before by the bomb disposal unit. Last year they found 100,000 bombs yet at that rate of disposal it will still take over 100 years until Laos is clear of bombs! After watching the harrowing film, I was no longer in a bad mood – it was worth coming to Phonsavan just to see the work of MAG. Next door was the UXO shop (unexploded ordnance). It had maps of the area showing the positions of the bombs and a list of people and their injuries who have been victims of the bombs within the last few months. It also showed some of the rehabilitation work they were trying to do. It was eye-opening stuff.
I had a slow start the following day pottering around trying to find food. My plate of veg was very uninspiring (think bowlful of watery pak choi) but at least I had realised that the first Plain of Jars sites (there are 3 open to the public) would be accessible by bike. The road was in good shape and it was between 8 – 15km away depending on who you asked. I felt it was a little late to go cycling today so instead I thought I would walk through the rest of town. Turns out the rest of town was a very long street (approx 3km) that led onto the road going south. On the plus side I found the tourist information shop – literally miles away from the tourist main road. There was not much in the way of information but they did have some items to sell from the village of Ban Napia. When you are surrounded by so much used bomb casings – what do you do? Some people turn the bombs into water troughs for animals, window boxes in which to plant herbs, gateposts seem very popular but the ladies of Ban Napia use the aluminum to make tablespoons, bracelets and necklace charms. I bought myself a bracelet and a

spoon. I must admit I am rather taken with my bracelet. On the way back I detoured and climbed a couple of hills to visit the war memorials and take in the views. This area of town obviously sees no westerners at all. I was definitely an attraction and particularly scary for the little children. My blonde hair and blue eyes set a couple of children off screaming. One woman brought her toddler out of the house so he could meet me. He was very hesitant at first but eventually he mustered up enough courage to touch my hand. Oh the joys of travelling – making small children cry!
Treated myself at the foreigner aimed restaurant Bamboozle. I said earlier I was one of the only tourists in town but there was a large western contingent who do volunteer work for either MAG or the UXO people. These are mainly specialists in the bomb disposal world or specialists in false limbs, amputation and rehabilitation field. I had a goats cheese sandwich – it was divine. Also tried a mulberry shake – after the initial taste which is unusual and unknown, it became quite pleasant.
Next morning (after waiting for the thunderstorms to stop) I rented a rather pricey mountain bike and made me way to the Jars. It was rather hilly going but I made very good time. There was an impressive visitors centre – not much in it because not

that much is known. The Jars are believed to be stone-age but they were re- discovered in the early 1900’s by a French archaeologist. She recorded finding bones and other things inside then, but all the evidence and her findings have since vanished so no one can validate the claims. After coming all this way I was a little underwhelmed, if I am truthful. I don’t know what I expected but I got a field full of mainly broken pots. The large group of very loud Chinese tourists (no idea where they came from – don’t say China!) did lessen the mood to be truthful. I walked to the furthest point and waited for them to go. The furthest point involved walking up a small hill to a viewpoint. The path up the hill really caught my attention. It was full of MAG cover stones. I had read on the entry gate that MAG had removed 117 bombs from the site and it was declared safe to walk around. When they removed a bomb they laid a cover-stone to show its position. As I walked up the path I saw cover-stone after cover-stone. At one point I could see 8 cover-stones in my line of sight. It was shocking how many there were and in such a tiny space. For the first time I really understood why they were called cluster bombs and the damage they would do. There would be no avoiding them, if you dodged the first 11 or 12 you would inevitably step on the 13th. Feeling very sombre I returned from the viewpoint back to the now quiet field of Jars. The Jars now looked mysterious and eerie and quite frankly I was surprised any had survived the bombing intact. I spent a couple of peaceful hours here just mulling around, daydreaming. There was a small cave next to the field in which locals had sheltered during bombing raids. Bomb craters were everywhere including right outside the mouth of the cave. You could see the marks from the fires used for cooking and the small hole that had been dug out of the roof to act as a chimney. It was a spooky place. After having my picture taken with the largest Jar – it was taller than me and thought to weigh 6 tonne (which is definitely heavier than me) I set off home. The rain had started again and very quickly it became very heavy rain. As I am cycling, I hear a loud bang. I flinch but the people I am passing at the time don’t seem to notice. Then there is another loud bang, then I remember seeing a quarry on the map – it must be the quarry. Wrong. As I turn the corner I see 4 jeeps with UXO logos on them. Through the rain I can make out an awning in the next field. There are another 3 explosions. They are actually detonating bombs as I am passing. The field was only a couple of hundred metres away from the Jars site. How dangerous must living here be?

Going home seemed to be more strenuous than getting there – don’t know if it was the rain or the thought of bombs exploding the made the journey drag. By the time I got back to the guesthouse I was shivering. The temperature had dropped to 19 degrees. I had to hunt out socks. Had to climb into bed and watch Pirates of the Caribbean till I felt warm enough to venture out again. My final meal in Phonsavan was tofu laap. I am getting quite a liking for the traditional Lao dish of laap. That will be one dish I shall try to recreate when I get back to the UK. Next stop is going to be the backpacker mecca that is Vang Vieng – I sincerely doubt I will be the only tourist there!