The last pottery village in Luang Prabang

9 January 2013

So, after a few days of drawing, reading and gentle navel contemplation, we set out to find the last pottery village in Luang Prabang region.

We walked down to the shores of the Mekong. The boatmen were busily unloading a cargo of sand, a line of men with sacks tripping deftly along a narrow gangplank, down into the hold and returning with full sacks on their shoulders, back along planks up to the back of a truck.

There was no sign of a ferry or “local boat”, just a few wooden canoes tied up and a man fishing in his canoe a few yards off shore. We asked one of the boatmen and he hailed the fisherman for us. A few gestures established that he would take us over the river for 20,000 kip.

That's our ferry-man, fishing in the distance.

It’s a wobbly journey for us. The boat seems very small and narrow and the water is very near the gunwales. It’s powered by a garden strimmer engine with a propeller stuck on the end. But we made it.

Trevann puts on a brave face.

In retrospect I suppose it would’ve been a good idea to tell the boatman where we wanted to go, rather than just pointing to the other side. He took us at our word and just dropped us off on the muddy bank. It was only then that we realised there were no clues giving us directions to the pottery village – no road signs saying “This way to Ban Chan” – just a sandy track through the woods.

Not to worry. There was only one track so we couldn’t get lost and it was lovely just walking along, through the teak trees, and up the hills in the sunshine. We walked for an hour or so and were passed by just a few people in that time: a couple of boys on a motorbike, a woman carrying firewood, and a group of children. We came across our first buffalos here.

Resting in the teak woods.

Khoun had told us that the village was a five-minute walk from the riverbank, so we knew by this stage we were heading in the wrong direction. We asked a woman the way to Ban Chan. Sure enough she pointed back the way we had come. Turning around and retracing our steps, eventually we came to a village. But there was no sign of pottery.

Village kids think it's hilarious to pose for falang photos!

A fisherman mending his nets confirmed this was Ban Chan and pointed the way to the pottery – along a path blocked by a steep ravine through which flowed a small but deep, fast flowing stream. This didn’t look very tourist-friendly! There were steps cut in the sides of the ravine and a few bamboos laid across the stream, forming a bridge, so it obviously was a path of sorts. We put on our adventuring hats and went across.

Sure enough, a few hundred yards the other side we arrived at the pottery village. A family group were making bricks, lifting clay out of a deep pit, putting it in an extruder machine, and laying the bricks to dry in the sun. There was also a shop of sorts. I bought a bell!

Pottery shop

Brick makers.

Further down the street we came across a pit kiln, there were glimpses of pots through doorways, but no obvious signs of pottery activity. At length we turned a corner and there was a man and his wife sitting in their workshop, just finishing the decorations on a huge upright pot. We watched as they cut the pot from the turntable and carried it carefully to the drying area.

Pit kiln

It was a great privilege then to be able to watch as they worked. They started a new pot. The wife prepared the coils, while the man pinched them into place on the turntable, building the sides of the pot, inch by inch. It didn’t take too long to take shape. Years of practice had gone into these skills.

We bought some bananas from them, and went on our way, back across the river in another wibbly-wobbly canoe. Not only were they hugely skilful pot-makers, but the bananas were the best I’ve ever tasted too!

The village of Ban Chan is crying out for some sympathetic tourist development. A few more boats from Luang Prabang, guides, apprentices, translations and signposts would bring much needed income to the village and would probably prevent it from following the only other pottery village in the province into oblivion. Just like Poole Pottery, the ceramics industry here has suffered from cheap factory-made imports from China and Korea.

Our boatman drives us back over the river.