Vang Vieng, The Incident of Extreme Stupidity, and Vientiane

9:45 PM Thursday June 21st, 2012 Siem Reap, Cambodia
Our first day in Vang Vieng tubing is the only goal.  Our minds are focused, our stomachs are full, and our livers are prepared.  We've heard at each bar is a free shot of Lao Lao whiskey waiting for you.

Ewwww.  Whiskey.  At least it's sweet and not too strong.

I'm scared, but know I can always say no.  We're going with our friends from the night before, and we get to the tubing point, cross the river by boat, and walk directly into the first bar.  No tubing yet.

What the bars look like.

They're all open air, covered, wooden patios with games and water spewing forth like showers.  We get our free shot and braided wristband that accompany each new bar, play some beer pong, and jump in our tubes to go to the next bar, a quick 30 feet of tubing down the river.  I get out of the water onto the dock of the next bar in about 3-4 feet of water.  We snagged another wristband and another free shot.  A couple hours of chatting with people and playing big jenga we got restless.

Our Dutch friends from the first night in Vang Vieng playing some big jenga.

After our Dutch friends disappeared somewhere amidst the chaos of the bars we found three very beautiful Danish girls to talk to.  We had some quick, muddled conversation with the music blaring in our ears when suddenly out of the corner of my eye I see someone swinging on a rope.  Oh dangerous rope swings, how I love thee.  It's just across the river at another bar.  Damn me and wanting to impress people.  It was about to bite me in the ass extremely hard.  What I did next has been called: stupid, foolish, retarded, silly, and any other variation on that theme possible.  In an attempt to seem 'bad ass' and suave I told the girls I was going to the rope swing, and then I ran down to the dock and sealed my fate by diving outwards into the murky, brown water.  As I hit the water I felt fine.  Of course the water had to be deeper here.  I'd dove so far out.  To my surprise, lurking two feet below the surface was the bottom of the river and the accompanying rocks.  I felt the blow to my head.  An immediate pain shot through me, but surprisingly numbed for what I knew had just happened.  Well nothing to do now other than keep swimming to the other side.  It had been quite a large smack to my forehead, but something compelled me to keep swimming across the river.  I MUST make it to the rope swing.  Don't let a little head injury get in your way.  Seriously why would I let that interfere with impressing some very cute girls.  I swam across confidently, grabbing the rope thrown out to me from the bar across the river, and I was pulled in.  I got out of the water excited for the swing.  Immediately the few patrons at that bar were hurrying up to me.  "Are you alright?," and "You're gonna need to get to the hospital," were the words I was greeted with as I got out of the water.  I was surprised.  I had been fine, just a little knock on the head.  No worse for the wear.  Then the blood came pouring down my face, and I knew I was done for.  They were right.  The crimson stream was flowing quickly.  Off to the hospital it was.  Luckily the people that greeted me at the bar were med students and quickly snagged some strong vodka from the bar.  With a hurried manner they said, "This is going to hurt a lot," and poured the vodka right onto my wounds.  The stinging was immediate, but bearable.  They ventured a guess that I'd need about 7-8 stitches in total for both of my gashes.  After Bo swam over to join me to the hospital, bringing my money and camera with him, we headed off in a rush to get to the hospital.  We still bargained a price with the tuk tuk who tried to overcharge us even though we were in a rush.  Bo had tried to tell the girls I had painted my face, like many people had, as he saw the bright red blood pouring down my face from the opposite side of the river.  He was hoping it was nothing serious. 

After a lot of the bleeding had slowed.

Upon getting to the hospital it seemed like they'd dealt with this before.  A lot of times before.  I escaped with two big lacerations on my head, a few slightly chipped teeth, and a scraped up chest.  Luckily I had no concussion though.  Within a few minutes of arriving I was put down on a bed and there was a razor working away over my wounds to clear them of hair.  A little bit of pain, but not unbearable.  Then they cleaned the wounds and stitched me up.  I felt the needle each time it pierced my scalp, and it got harder and harder to bear as they put four stitches on the right cut and then eight on the left wound for a total of 12 stitches.  Each stitch a stinging as the needle pierced each side of the wound and a tension and accompanying pain as they tightened it.  I'm surprised that I managed it all with no anesthetic of any kind.  I had survived it though.

I took some selfies on the operating table while Bo ran back to the hostel to get money.

The wound getting stitched up.

All sewed up on the left laceration.  It has a little zig zag to it.

The right wound.

Thumbs up during the stitching.

Those damn cheetos.

They sewed gauze with iodine into my stitches, leaving what looked like miniature orange sausages or as Bo liked to call them, "Cheetos."

A better view of the cheetos.

The whole procedure and amoxicillin cost only $40.  This meant no drinking for the remainder of the antibiotics regimen, and, the worst part, no getting my head wet.  The incident occurred around 3, and I didn't take my first pain killer until 9:30.  I didn't feel like I needed it until then, but it was about to become unbearable.  That night I hadn't had my antibiotics yet, but was starting the next day.  I had about a sixth of a bucket, feeling fine and very lucky to be alive.  I've been told that so many people die from what I did, so I was lucky that I dove after only a few drinks.  Many people hit their heads and pass out and drown in Vang Vieng and most are caused by alcohol.  There were 27 recorded deaths in Vang Vieng last year from accidents just like this one.  I was more than lucky, and I counted my blessings.  Surprisingly I didn't feel tired that night, and with the help of some Excedrin I stayed out until 2 AM.  My head had begun to pound though, and I was about to experience the worst sleep I've ever gotten.  The odds of sleeping were stacked against me.  Along with a pounding headache and injuries I had developed a fever of about 103 degrees.  It came out of nowhere, accompanied by violent shivers and a desire for more covers in an already balmy room.  The beds at our $3/night hostel were extremely thin and provided no comfort.  This was added on top of my inability to sleep on my back, and my inability to sleep on my front (as I normally do) because of my wounds.  Oh and did I mention there was no A/C in the room and I got little to no direct moving air from the fan.  A creeping fear that I may die in my sleep due to head injuries added nothing to this terrible recipe for sleep.  After spending only four hours in bed I managed to get 30 minutes of sleep in what was the most hellish and restless night of sleep ever.  Also luckily there were very drunk people coming into the hostel yelling around 4 AM.  Good times.  Racked with the urge to vomit I got out of bed and walked around to find water at 6 in the morning.  The town was dead, but I managed to secure some water and attempt to relax, avoiding the menacing urges emanating from my stomach.  Somehow I felt good enough to go out to the tubing area that day.  You can just walk between the bars anyway.  No need for a tube.  I was there to socialize, and I wasn't gonna let my inability to drink get in the way of that.  We hung out with some Dutch girls we'd met the night before, and at the end of the day we tubed down the river, two people to a tube.  It was pretty chilly, but I enjoyed seeing the bars further down the river with a massive slide that launches you 15 feet in the air, and the high diving platforms, and swings.  I passed by jealous of everyone flying into the water, wishing I could get my head wet.  My forehead was beginning to swell up pretty noticeably.  I figured it was normal.

Two to a tube with our Dutch friends.

Must keep the Cheetos dry.

Some guy went down the slide as we passed and landed about 3 feet from us. 

My head starting to swell up.

Then under my eyes started swelling up.  Clearly something was wrong.

The beautiful surrounding mountains.

We cruised by the beautiful, karst mountains, covered by clouds as we floated down the river in the fading daylight.  The next day was spent in a similar fashion.  Another day out at the bars.  Another day of socializing, but I was feeling bad.  I had become known as, 'the guy who dove,' throughout everyone in Vang Vieng.  The area around my eyes had begun swelling, and my right cheeto was smelling really bad, so it had to be removed.

Getting the right cheeto removed.

Free shots.

Free shot for Bo.

Free shot of snake wine that is.

Glad they put this sign up after I dove.

General feel of the bars.

Another sign put up after I dove.

Interesting mode of transportation here.

Presidential Palace

After our fourth night we were ready to head on to Vientiane.  We'd had enough of the extreme partying in Vang Vieng.  I really hadn't even participated.  A quick 3 hour bus ride got us to Vientiane.  It is the Paris of S.E. Asia.  French architecture spots the city, and an arch similar to the Arc de Triomphe rests upon a main boulevard that ends in the Presidential Palace.

Arch at the end of the boulevard.

A large, completely golden temple graced the area, a symbol often seen on postcards around Laos.  The golden paint chipping off, the building seemed slightly dilapidated, though impressive nonetheless.  Nothing of extreme importance occurred in Vientiane though.  A day of extreme pain that required about 1500 mg of acetaminophen, 800 mg of aspirin, and 30 mg of hydrocodone left me in a pain killer stupor with ridiculous lucid dreams.  I did a lot of sleeping, and attempted to heal up by means of serious amounts of rest.  I felt good.  My fever was gone, my wounds hurt a lot less, and I was ready to have my stitches removed.  So after a couple days in Vientiane, having seen most of the sights of the city, we flew off to Siem Reap to explore the Angkor temples, but surprises with my wounds awaited me there.

Here are a few photos from Vientiane.

Reclining Buddha