Luang Prabang during Buddhist Lent

Text by: Jason Rolan

Photos by: Phoonsab Thevongsa

I wake up, and Luang Prabang feels electric. The anticipation hangs in the air like the low-hovering clouds of the monsoon season. It’s the day before Boun Xouang Heua, the boat racing festival that marks the midway point of Buddhist Lent, and near the town’s fountain, a market has sprung to life with vendors selling traditional snacks, vegetables, forest-scavenged mushrooms, and other gifts of nature’s bounty. 

Navigating around the swarms of locals who have come to shop this special market, I stop to admire one woman’s various baskets spread on the ground, each filled with unusual jungle fruits. “What’s this?” I ask, pointing to a bright blue berry. “Maak Khor”, she says. She hands me one of these taraw plum fruits to try. I bite into it, avoiding a seed in the middle. The subtle and slightly astringent flavor gives me pause. “It’s better if you eat it with sticky rice,” she adds. I mutter to myself, “As are most things!” 

The following day is the big race day. All of Luang Prabang, apparently, clamors to both banks of the Khan River. The tournament runs in heats through the afternoon, and by the time I squeeze into a spot near some Lao uncles arguing about who would win, the first race is already beginning. Two smaller boats launch from the starting line. One boat’s rowers are clad in white, the other in black. “Uncle, which teams are these?” I ask the older gentleman next to me. “Those are the Nang Don and Nang Dam boats. They don’t compete in the tournament, but they open the boat racing ceremonies. The rowers are all women.” 

Not long after, long boats of 50 rowers each make their way to the starting line, two by two. When the starting pistol fires, the riverbanks erupt in roars of shouting, as the Lao people cheer on their favorite teams. The uncle informs me that each village has a temple, and each temple has a boat, raced not just for the win but for the temple’s standing, a year of bragging rights measured out one race at a time. Over the previous few weeks, smaller boats have been raced in localities north and south of Luang Prabang, but this is the main event with the largest racing boats. 

Hours of cheering and sweating pass before a few drops of rain trickle down over the grateful audience. I make my way toward the finish line. Without looking, I can tell when a race begins, simply by the roaring crowd. The finish line is in front of a grand pavilion on the riverbank. Inside are the provincial governor and other leaders, a policeman tells me. I also spot the newest Miss New Year, just crowned back in April, in her heavy silken finery and gold brocade. She must be as hot as I am.

The final race completes, and the winners make their way up the riverbank to cheers and locals congratulating them with glasses of beer. They receive a cash prize and a silver trophy, and best of all, bragging rights that they outshone all of their peers. By evening, the crowds have thinned to a few stragglers along the bank, the boats pulled in and quiet, the river already forgetting the noise it held all afternoon.

More info:

In 2026, the market fair is on 10 September, and the boat races are on 11 September.

Getting there:

Lao Airlines has flights from Hanoi, Chiang Mai, and Vientiane to Luang Prabang.