after a surprisingly nice 24 busride from hanoi to vientiane, we boarded another bus to vang vieng, 6 hours north. we took a truck to the much-awaited organic farm, where we were planning to volunteer in exchange for room and board. well, it turned out that program no longer existed, which was pretty disappointing. but just as we were being told that, a thai family we had met on the busride to vang vieng showed up. they invited us to tour around with them & the tour guide they had hired. with ample time and nothing better to do, we accepted, curious to experience a day in the life of a thai family on vacation. the day was great. we drove around the countryside, occassionally stopping for photos and excursions. we went to a buddhist temple where they were about to feed and worship the village monk. monks eat 2 meals a day, both before noon, and they're not allowed to eat after that (yikes!). we sat with the villagers, listening to the thai dad translate things for us (thai and lao languages are similar enough that they can communicate, and the dad had great english). after the monk was done eating, the food was brought out to us to sample. it was sticky rice in bamboo baskets and various dishes of things to dip the sticky rice in. you'd grab a handful of rice, roll it into a hard ball, and use it to grab something out of one of the dishes. the food was only borderline edible, but the experience of eating with all the locals was fantastic. after eating, we were guided to the monk, who said a blessing and tied an orange bracelet on each of us. we continued on to another village, and a cave, and the dad explained things to us the whole way. the wife and daughter were shy about their english, but sat pleasantly with us in the truck and smiled all day. in the cave, the guide hit a stalactite with his fist and it rang out like a bell! the dad spoke with mixed jealousy and distaste for the simple lifestyle of the lao. while he clearly appreciated the luxuries of his affuent thai lifestyle, he envied the time the lao had to devote to religion and peace. he proudly announced that he was the only person at work who had no cel phone. the dad was grateful to have his daughter practice her english, and we were grateful to have the best tour guide we could have asked for. at the end of the day, we exchanged emails and invited each other to visit our homes. we're so lucky. and it pays to be nice to strangers!
the lao people are so sweet. they don't heckle you to buy their products (apparently making any big efforts is frowned upon in lao culture), they just smile and say hi. today amy and i were riding our bikes up a steep bill and lao kids walking along the road grabbed the backs of our bikes and started running, pushing us up the hill. i'm glad we've decided to spend a lot of time in laos. the people are calming.
the one bad thing about vang vieng: if you're not adventuresome enough to bike away from the main strip, you are bombarded by TV restaurants, where people sit for hours on end watching 'friends'. yuck.
i sit in a stilted hut over the river, barefoot and reclined on a cushion, listening to the water dance over the stones. the karst limestone cliffs loom over the river, remeniscent of a time with more powerful waters. my body sings with happiness as endorphins (derived from a morning run) pulse through my blood. calm permeates me & yet i stay alert. from my perch, i'm entertained by each shade of green outside demanding attention. a dozen tiny boys run chattering down the riverbank - bathtime! completely unselfconscious, they strip down to their underpants barely fast enough to keep their clothes from getting we as they scamper into the fresh water now turned white from their splashes. they appear to think of nothing more than the coolness of the water, chasing, catching, laughing. their games crescendo as the sun droops in the sky, threatening the inveitable return to responsibility and good behavior.
everything is beautiful and pleasant at this last fleeting moment of the day. everything the light touches casually reminds me that the world is great. life is summertime. even as the light fades, the world is vibrant in an unpresuming way, like a great jazz song.
roosters crow. light is dim. i move carefully, silently to keep the morning to myself. dreams waft in and out of my head. a change of scenery is impending, and i relax in preparation for absorption. attempts to suppress two sneezes fail. i skulk to the bathroom for audial insulation. movement on the other side of the door delivers my message: one must savor these precarious moments of pre-dawn solitude.
