Morning on Phou Si Mountain

It’s only 7AM, and I’ve already given alms to about 300 Buddhist monks and climbed Phou Si Mountain (just for comedic value, ph does not make an F sound in Lao). Pulling my camera out of the bag to take some photos of the monks, the lens immediately fogged over thanks to the incredible humidity. The sun had just finished rising as I knelt by the side of the road with my basket of sticky rice. The monks began to file past like an army of faithful draped in bright orange robes, each carrying a pot for collecting food. Locals and foreigners alike dropped sticky rice, candies and cookies in pot after pot as the monks and novices whizzed by.

Side by side with the more fortunate people giving alms were children and adults from poorer families also kneeling with baskets in front of them. As the monks passed by, they would drop some of their alms into the baskets of the poor people. It was a full cycle of giving occurring in a matter of seconds out on the hot moist streets of Luang Prabang.

My hands were unaccustomed to gathering the small clumps of sticky rice, so I was moving too slow for many of the monks. Knowing that there were many more waiting behind them and they had already collected plenty, several of the monks would pass by me without receiving anything when I wasn’t moving fast enough. Although I was giving more generous portions of rice than the locals, I was much more conservative than most of the foreigners. Eventually, however, my rice did run out, so I waited for a line of monks to pass before I rose to take some photos.

Not realizing that she was purchasing rice from a street vendor, an inappropriately dressed Dutch woman was dropping sticky rice into the monk’s pots by the fist full. When she got up to leave, she was followed by the women who had been shoveling rice in front of her for the last hour. Not having negotiated a price for the alms, she was suddenly confronted with a hard round of negotiating.

With most of the monks having passed by, we hopped into the van and drove to the foot of Phou Si Mountain. It’s not a monolithic mountain, but in the heat and humidity, trekking up the hundreds of steps was challenging. Along the way, I passed a large black scorpion hanging out by the side of the path. I was relieved to see that he had as little interest in me as I did in him. At the top of the mountain, I was faced with beautiful views over the city settled between the Mekong and Khan rivers. Fog was rolling between the mountains as the sun slowly melted it away. We walked around the stupa and past the monastery, where more people were presenting alms to the city monk. Over the top and back down the other side, covered in sweat, our morning on Phou si was over.