MONICA, YOUR HOST
An Austrian, Monica was born in Brazil, studied social anthropology and worked for many years with refugees and newcomers who came to Germany. From 2007 she ran the Jumbo Guesthouse in Hongsa, Laos and then relocated to the new Jumbo Guesthouse on the Mekong in Ban Don Kao, Luang Prabang in July 2016.
“It was my best decision ever to move to Laos. I fell in love with this charming and still laid-back country. Why? You have to slow down here to live a good life!” Monica lives at the guesthouse and speaks German, English, Lao and some French. She is happy to provide suggestions for things to do in Luang Prabang and Northern Laos. She can also recommend restaurants in town and things to do in and around Luang Prabang and answer your questions with regards to the country, its people, their cuisine and culture.
Monica is also a skilled cook and she loves to welcome guests and serve them her delicacies. Read more about her cooking and her famous jams here!
My Story: How I Came to Laos (Hongsa) – and Finally Found My Little Paradise on the Mekong
In 2006, I spent half a year working for the German Development Organization (GIZ) in Vientiane. My assignment was to create a public relations brochure for a program supporting rural development in the mountainous areas of Northern Laos. Together with a translator, a driver, and two photographers, I traveled to remote provinces, along steep slopes and rough dirt roads, all the way to tiny villages where children would run away at the sight of a farang – a white foreigner.
What struck me most was how, despite the hardship of daily life, short life expectancy of only about 45 years, and an average monthly income of around ten dollars, people still managed to laugh, smile, and make the best of things. The breathtaking mountain scenery and the peace of the countryside slowed me down, and I fell deeply in love with Laos.
Returning to Germany was difficult. I experienced a kind of culture shock. Everything was perfectly organized, yet I found it oppressive. In the West, an ambulance arrives within fifteen minutes, while in Laos people may walk eight hours just to reach a poorly equipped village dispensary. And still, I saw far less complaining, less self-doubt, and less restlessness there than in our own “perfect” societies.
Not long after, through a German acquaintance, I learned that a guesthouse in Hongsa was looking for a foreign tenant. Encouraged, and perhaps a little naïve, I decided to take the chance. With 5,000 euros and 120 kilos of luggage, I arrived in Laos. What I did not know was that the German man running the place had debts and a bad reputation. After only a few weeks, I cut ties with him—I didn’t want to be associated with his colonial attitude. Soon after, he was forced to leave the country, and I began building something of my own.
For several years, I ran a simple guesthouse in Hongsa. At that time, Lonely Planet described the area as one of the top places to see elephants in their natural environment. So I started organizing tours with mahouts, the elephant handlers. For the elephants, these trips were like Sunday outings—they could eat whenever and whatever they pleased. Today, I would no longer offer such tours, as elephant riding is rightly considered unethical.
Life in Hongsa was basic. The border to Thailand was closed to foreigners, the first ATM was inaugurated in 2008, and I lived for two and a half years without internet access. Though Hongsa was a district capital, its streets were little more than dusty tracks. Often my guests would arrive completely covered in dust after the long journey from the Mekong down into the valley. At times, I had no guests at all and learned to live with loneliness—and as a result started to love myself.
Everything changed when the largest coal power plant in Southeast Asia was built just 15 kilometers away. Suddenly Hongsa filled with Chinese, Thai, Indian, and European workers. For a few years, the town became a busy Eldorado, but I knew that as a tourist destination, its days were numbered.
In January 2014, friends of mine—Pierre and Annett, a Swiss-French couple—visited me in Hongsa and later invited me to see them in Luang Prabang. A few months later, I stood on their terrace in Ban Done Kao, gazing at the Mekong, completely enchanted. My very first words were not a greeting, but simply: “When are you moving out?”
One year later, I became their successor, and in 2016 I finally moved from Hongsa to Luang Prabang. At first, I had my doubts. Who would want to rent a room six kilometers outside of town? Back then, only a dirt road led to Ban Done Kao. I gave myself two years to establish the guesthouse. But within just one year, it was running well. Guests came by word of mouth, and soon I was also listing on Airbnb.
Today, I love my little paradise on the Mekong more than anything. Every day I thank the universe for leading me to this beautiful corner of the world. Here, I live a vibrant social life within an international community—so different from the often lonely years in Hongsa.
Alongside the guesthouse, I have built a small jam and marmalade manufactory. My products are sold mainly to high-end hotels in Luang Prabang and Vientiane. And since Covid, I have also been hosting my weekly La Mama Wednesday Dinner—a warm, family-like gathering where guests, visitors, and the local expat community come together. An evening full of conversations, laughter, good energy and good food—simply pure La Mama.