Unfortunately I had to jump ahead of past events with the last post. But I owed that to readers and sponsors alike because honesty and transparency are important. I will try to put the hospital episode in some sort of context now and also briefly talk about the future.
The last 200 km in Laos really challenged us again and were a concentrate of what Laos was for us as hikers. Tough, strenuous, nerve racking but unbelievably rewarding.
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Children playing in front of a temple and rice bushels ready to be planted...
30 km north of Pakse we once again did not find a place to crash, the next Guesthouse was just outside of the city. A tsunami from above, which waterlogged streets and meadows with about two inches within minutes warned us: camping in the open impossible. Even if the rain fly would have held up against this aerial barrage we would have swam in a lake. We sheltered from the rain at a shop and I asked her if we could sleep here. She said no but offered to take us to a temple. Well, the temple turned out to be an older woman who tried to sell us a ride to Pakse. 30 km for 200'000 (25 USD) Kip which is a rip off beyond comparison and a local would never pay that. After having wasted precious time we had to continue walking with dusk falling. Upon spotting the first abandoned hut I asked the people living next to it if we could camp here. Instead of an answer they lead us to a larger house on stilts. The owner prepared a bed for us with mattresses, pillows and a mosquito net on the first floor. We didn't even need our tent and were very warmly welcomed. Naturally we were not allowed to pay anything the next morning. You have to accept that in Laos. The rain beat down the whole night. We were lucky once again...
Upcoming storm in dramatic light. A bad omen?
After Pakse, where we had every comfort, the fun started for real. We almost walked 50 km straight. Part of it after sunset in complete darkness with headlamps. Every car that stopped was scary with nothing but bush and jungle around us and not seeing or knowing what they wanted or did. It all ended in a guesthouse of horror (see video).
The next day a family with three kids offered us shelter. They did not have electricity or running water but treated us like kings and even offered food. Rain coupled with strong winds caused our feet to get wet under the mosquito net. But at least a roof over our heads. Pigs, chickens and dogs watched the strangers closely. Just before we went to sleep we saw the parents lighting candles around our bed. The woman prayed for us (we understand enough Lao to know that). That moment still sends shivers down my spine and I had tears in my eyes. They have nothing but are so genuinely lovely and care about OUR well-being. I am sure they could have done with a little extra money. But they categorically turned everything down. What sort of conviction do you need to react like this when you do not have anything? And what a contrast to the greedy woman who lived a comfortable life by Laos standards and offered us ridiculously overpriced transport...
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Children cooking rice in the morning whilst the parents were working on the field and our comfy beds...
Laos would not be Laos if we wouldn't have ran out of water the next day. Nothing to drink for 15 km. I would not advise sipping out of rice fields because you never know what sort of chemicals are in there. A petrol station was our saving grace.
And Laos would not be Laos if children and adults alike would not have greeted us euphorically. Work on the rice fields stopped for a few minutes whenever we appeared. And quite regularly they laughingly asked us to help them plant rice. Even the water buffaloes gave us a very puzzled look. In fact the only living beings who looked at us even sillier were fellow Westerners on buses and motorbikes. They just could not understand what on earth we were doing and stared with their jaws on their feet. They even forgot to react to our waving...
Staring sillier at someone than these buffaloes is hard to imagine. But Westerners actually managed...:)
And yes, because it was a concentrate of Laos we did not find a place to sleep again. Two young monks came to our rescue and let us pitch the tent practically next to their beds, of course a bit lower than them. As we wanted to go to sleep Elly complained about back pain and a headache. Her forehead was very warm. Within an hour the fever rose from 37.3 to 38.8. Shit. We both knew what this meant. To the hospital. Next morning. Back to Pakse. It was a stormy night with gusty winds. Suddenly a loud crack and the tent collapsed on us. One of the aluminium rods broke under the load. The world seemed to be against us. I repaired it in my boxer shorts, MacGyver style. Without this measure we would have been soaked until the next morning due to the wind. I was anyhow after the pole was fixed but Elly stayed dry.
As dusk broke I packed up our gear. A shared taxi and a tuktuk brought us to the hospital.
This head showed us the way back to Pakse...
Most of the people know the rest. Elly was diagnosed dengue which means that the walk has come to an end for her. For the ones who don't know: dengue is a viral infection, there is no treatment for it except for a symptomatic one (i.e. lowering fever, possibly taking antibiotics to avoid a bacterial infection and drinking a lot). The fever, which can be up to 40 degrees, usually fades after several days and the illness fully heals up. In a few severe cases it can lead to internal bleeding which is life threatening and needs intensive care. This was luckily not the case with Elly. Some may think that the "normal" dengue is pretty harmless. But there is a twist to it. Dengue can leave you feeling weak and low on energy for weeks. A strain on the body of 35 - 40 km / day with (in Ellys case) 15 kg on her back is just not possible under these circumstances. The good news: she does not suffer from fever any more and the daily visits to the hospital are now over.
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More impressions. Left: strange erosions which can be found all over southern Laos. Right: rainy season creek which forms within minutes. No place to set up camp...
What now? This question tortured me. Giving up is not in my book and the ones who know me will confirm that. I do not shy away from fighting and suffering for my dreams and goals. But the situation changes radically when you are not directly affected. We started this adventure as a team and as partners. I'd be a miserable teammate an even more miserable partner and a lousy human being if I were to make egoistic decisions at this point. Getting Elly home safely has top priority. And she is currently not able to do that on her own. Therefore I have decided to accompany her. I am not ashamed to admit that I have shed bitter tears over this. And as I am writing this a huge lump forms in my throat. I am left with a feeling of failure which smothers any sense of pride about the already walked 2000 and something kilometres. We have not reached our goal. Period. But even if it hurts: I know the decision is 100 % correct. There are many projects but only one Elly. And I could never forgive myself if something happened to her.
BUT (there is always a but) I do not let go so easily. That would be cheap. A continuation of the project is already born in my mind. For now not in southeast Asia. But in Europe (flying back and forth is irresponsible from an emission point of view). After I know Elly is in good hands. I cannot stop now. Not yet. I love the simple life too much. Not knowing where to sleep or if I find water to drink. And I care too much about the people in Laos. Especially after we have experienced so many amazing moments in their country. For them the raised money can be a matter of life and death. Last but not least it would be a shame, also for Elly, to end this way. The show must go on. You will soon hear more. But at this point everything is still too vague. Until then we would like to thank all the people who thought of us, the readers and the generous donors. We'd of course be thrilled about further donations. Stay tuned...
