as a youth, i always marveled at the idea of tarzan swinging through the jungle on the vines of trees, calling out to the open space- a king of the natural world. i thought i would never find a place so untouched and so alive, but i was wrong. i found such a place in the jungle outside of houay xai, laos. we woke up with the town rooster crows, packed and ate our muesli and fruit. we then climbed into a white landcruiser, 9 near strangers following trails into the bokeo reserve, where the gibbons experience has set up its operation. the landcruiser came to a stop at a small village. we all piled out and were greeted by sang keo- a short, muscular lao guy with a light chocolate complexion contrasted by a huge, toothy smile.
almost immediately, we were off, following him and sheil down winding paths. soon we came to our harnesses and put them on; awkwardly shifting our weight and tying the carabeeners to the loops around our waists. sang keo attached himself to the zipline and took off, singing and swaying like the line was an extension of himself, completely relaxed and at home in the jungle. then it was our turn: i snapped my safety on first, then attached my roller and held my breath. "okay" sang keo shouted and i jumped. i held onto the roller at the top to steady my swaying but the wind rushed over my body, whipping my clothes and hair. i looked around me- water running below, 150 meters down. trees everywhere, canopies, green, lush, birds, and a treehouse stuck in a tree below. in the distance, the mist and the mountains, an infinite space where you are completely alone. then i shouted- i let out an exultant cry of elation and i have never felt so free. imagine flying across the canopy of the jungle, looking out for the first time
this first zip line was over 300 meters long- the longest that we would do and by far the most memorable. throughout the next 3 days, we zipped over 20 times, to where it was as natural as jumping for us at the end. the gibbons experience was started by a french guy who was interested in preserving the rainforest in lao. he pays the government "rent" to keep this area a reserve, free from poachers and loggers. we were told stories about how the staff have stolen baby asiatic bears from poachers and brought them to bear camp to try to assimilate them to jungle life. jeff, the french "owner" of the gibbons experience, has constructed 6 treehouses throughout the jungle using ziplines and trails to connect them. our first day we did about 5 zips before coming to the first treehouse, where 6 of us would sleep. we dropped our things and zipped to a waterfall, stripping down to our bathing suits, we swam in the clear, freezing water.
i climbed along the waterfall, playing and slipping in the swirling pools of icy water. we laughed and raced in the pond, then dried off and tried to make our way back to the treehouse for dinner. we got lost and luckily a girl who worked in the kitchen zipped up to us and showed us the way home. our dinner was there waiting- a bamboo box of sticky rice, mushrooms, bok choy, and beef with onions. we had fruit and nuts to our hearts content, then i made tea and the others lit candles so we could play uno in the dark. we pulled down our mosquito nets and settled into sleep with the sounds of the jungle lulling us. the bird calls intermingled with the cool mist and protection of the canopy.
soon it was dawn and the bird calls changed to something more bright and chipper. we were awoken by the sound of sang keo zipping into the house, "morning! coffee? tea? who want?" we packed our bedding as he laid out drinks and cut up a pineapple with his machete, we ate and soon were off again to the kitchen where we met up with the others for breakfast. the day was composed of trekking through the woods, up hills so steep i felt that if i stopped i would not be able to start again. i welcomed the burning muscles and the panting from loss of breath. after so much time in one place, sitting on the boat, i loved the intensity. the jungle looped around us, embracing our crew with its arms and scented flora. the earth was moist and smelled fresh. we zipped- every time seeing the forest from new perspective and each time loving it more. it was like being completely alone for one minute, a solo celebration. tonight we stayed in treehouse 5, a two story treehouse with a honeymoon suite as the loft. jenny, monika and i took the loft, since it's meant for 2 people and we don't mind sleeping close. we can see people enter the house on the zipline and enjoy a 360 degree view of the jungle around us. it's truly stunning. we have seen and heard so many smaller animals, but unfortunately no gibbons. i think we are too loud, having too much fun with each other.
sang keo took us on another trek from the exit zip, past the kitchen to the primary entrance zipline. it was an intense hour of hiking, in the middle of which we found an enormous tree, probably 40 feet tall, which had grown around a hollow center (unless it was once a tree that was squeezed to death by the vines of another). i climbed up the center, following sang keo like an agile animal, crawling vertically hand over feet, pulling up, switching for strongholds- live sturdy branches and vines. we towered up, poking our heads out of the mammoth tree. every few feet our heads through a different gap, our smiles and our hands showing our friends below where we were inside the tree. 3o feet? 40 feet? i'm not quite sure how high i went- but in the bowels of this tree, i reminded myself of my college days, climbing trees with jacobi and terrance- scaling the ficus trees in the arboretum, napping in the arms of the trees on campus, the youth of our spirits. when i came back to the treehouse and showered, the waterbeads fell from the the tree down to the bottom. it looked like a silver shower of light beading its way down forever.
we started to stir when the birds' song changed again into morning tunes; when the sky began to show its misty grey of dawn. it was moist and cool when those of us who wanted to look for gibbons left the treehouse by the entrance zip. now, zip lines are constructed so that you are going downhill, which is why there is an entrance and exit zipline. this morning, to avoid the same hike as yesterday, we had to do a reverse zip and climb the rest of the way up the cable. allan went first, barely reaching the center before turning around to pull himself up the line. jenny followed, his weight making it easier, then marnie, then me and monika. 5 people, white gloved pulling themselves up the cable in the grey early morning. we hiked to an observation spot and listened for 30 minutes. we wanted to hear gibbons. instead, we got to hear the entire jungle wake up: the birds call, the deer bellow, the domestic kitchen animals compete with the others. the sun rose between the trees, a burning orange ball that melted into a pale yellow.
we returned to our treehouse and packed. we left on the trek back to the village: a 6 hour trek with 9 zips over the river. we followed the trail through an unused portion of the jungle. the earth was moist, scenting the air with a soft, cool aroma of things dying and new things growing from them. the leaves were quilts, covering the next generation of life. mold and mushrooms grew over old wood and broken branches. we followed the river. thorn-covered trees and vines gripped at our legs, tearing at us. leeches reached out for our shoes and clothes, attaching themselves to our ankles. throughout the journey, sang keo rarely left the lead. he used his machete like a key, gracefully opening up the locked doors of briar and vines, opening up the mysteries of the earth to us. my muscles burned and i was short of breath, but i was too joyful to notice and too melancholy at leaving the heart of the forest.
we arrived at the end almost by surprise. we were suddenly walking down solid paths made by tires, not machetes. we zipped our last line without realizing it- i leaped from the platform, first in line, listening to "no cars go" by the arcade fire. "i know a place where no trains go. i know a place where no ships go...no cars go" i unhooked myself and yelled "okay" then sat down and scribbled in my notebook, trying to encapsulate the joy, realizing that this experience is too complex to articulate. we walked to the river and put our tired feet in, admiring the river devices the villages had constructed to mash rice: two windmills powered by the river current which raised a large mallet and then dropped it onto a basket of rice. soon we were in the landcruiser again, leaving the village with its sow and 3 piglets, all black and squealing, leaving all of them for the bumpy road. the car brushed past hundreds of plants, throwing their soft, billowy pollen into the air like a cloud of dancing snow flakes. i sang tiny dancer and remembered singing arm in arm with line in tokyo- that night i rode the roller coaster and she and kjersten waited for me and then we ate cheeseburgers.
that night, we slept in beds, ate dinner at the pizza shop and went drinking at a swank bar. it was the one with the great lighting and the chairs made from tree stumps. they served good vodka and let monika pick the music. we talked all night, weening ourselves from the sounds of the forest, trading them for the howls of the stray dogs in houay xai.
the fog rolls in and it's raining.
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