Laos: Feeding the Monks in Luang Prabang

It is six o'clock in the morning and dawn was just breaking in the medieval Lao capital of Luang Prabang. I have bought a little pot made of palm-leaves and filled with the local unsweet sticky rice that is easily picked up with one's hands. Around me, locals are sitting on straw mats, each with a similar kind of pot, waiting patiently. And finally, they come, silently, an explosion of orange in the still-dark, empty street. In front of the line are the old ones; they will get their rice first and go back to their quarters. Most of them, however, are young, sleepy and sullen. They are clearly not happy at the constant flashes of tourists' cameras. They do not want to go through this procedure yet one more morning and have to eat the grubby rice. But they are not just teenagers but monks and they have come to this historic town to live and study in one of its many temples. At least a year, and then maybe more. That is their duty, or dharma, as young Buddhist men.

I run into the monks everywhere in the quiet, leafy streets of Luang Prabang. They are playing the drums during evening prayer, or washing dishes in the temple backyard, or cleaning the statues in the temple with a little brush. Or they are just relaxing and toying with a wounded monkey they have saved from a dog's claws the night before, young boys unaware of their cruelty.

The monks' presence in this 16th-century Lao capital is what keeps it from being just a beautiful open-air museum on the Mekong. After all, it has not been the seat of power since the 19th century, when Vientiane was chosen as the capital. And after the 1975 revolution, the king was thrown into a jail, where he then died, his children forced into exile in France (the beautiful Art Deco Royal Palace is still there, a record of the great life the Luang Prabang monarchy had under the French, who allowed their existence and protected them from the invading Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese and Burmese).

While no longer relevant, Luang Prabang is Laos' true charmer, with temples some of which date back to the 16th century (though most are from the 19th--not much has survived the Thai invasion) and feature remarkable frescoes and statues. It has a spirit of its own, of a place lost in time that pretends to ignore the Communists and live as it had for centuries. The tourists have certainly discovered this "ville boutique," but that hardly reduces its self-contained, enigmatic charm.