Good Morning All – I just went back and re-read some of my entries and I am sorry about all the misspellings and grammar errors. In my mind, I had a story to tell and in my mind, I knew exactly what I was trying to convey to everyone, but it would seem that did not happen. I apologize. I know I am not a very good writer and I was very tired from jetlag, but those should not be excuses for such poor writing. I am sorry; I will try to do better.
So…to catch everyone up to speed on where I am, I left Vientiane 2 days ago. I caught the 2:00 PM bus to KM52, a town that got its’ name from being exactly 52 Kilometers away from the city of Vientiane.
The bus ride from Vientiane to KM52 in of itself was uneventful, other than the fact that we left later than scheduled. One thing to always keep in mind when traveling in Laos is that schedules can change at a moment’s notice and often do. Our bus was schedule to leave at 2:00 PM, but we did not leave until almost 2:30 because we did not have enough passengers. There was only one way to get from Vientiane to KM52, Highway 13. This main road runs from Vientiane to KM52 and to all parts north like Vang Vieng, Luang Prabang, and Phonsavan. In Laos, the number 13 does not hold the same superstitions and connotations as it does here in the USA. In Laos, it is just another road. Small towns dot Highway 13, with some homes and businesses built within inches of the busy traffic. Kids, pedestrians, animals, speeding cars and motorcycles, all are within inches of each other and all without the slightest conflict. I am sure this is normal for them and that my cause for concern is unwarranted.
I grabbed a sit in the front of the bus, mainly because of habit and because I wanted a view of the road ahead. As a kid, I got car sick easily and having a seat at the front with a view of the horizon helped out a lot. Fortunately for me, as I grew older, my motion sickness subsided. Sitting next to me in the front row was a Laotian lady, she smiled as she sat down but we did not speak. Across the isle from me sat two young Laotian men, who I believe were good friends. Directly behind me were a young Hmong girl and her mother… and the two of them carried a conversation during the entire trip to KM52.
Despite my best efforts to drum out the conversation between the young Hmong girl and her mother, and to only mind my own business, their dialogue drew me in. As it turns out, the young girl is engage to an American husband and her business in Vientiane was an interview with the American Consulate for a Fiancée Visa. For reasons not known to me, she did not pass her interview and did not receive permission to enter the USA. Her and her mother lived in KM52 and are on their way home after hearing the disappointing news. She was in tears and her mother, like most mothers, was trying her hardest to console her child who seem to be in great pain. I wanted to say something, but I could neither find the courage nor the right words to say. So, I kept silent.
As I sat there watching the beautiful road ahead of me, I am constantly reminded of the slow pace of life in Laos. The road is littered with cows and some occasionally stops in the middle of the road while crossing it, while trying to find greener pasture on the other side. The bus driver had to slow down often and used his horn many times. Water buffalos wallow in the empty rice fields, which were harvested months ago, and soaking in knee high mud. There was a fruit or Vegetable stall at every corner and turn in the road, with their owners taking naps inside. Banana leaves and coconut tress swayed in the distance. Suddenly, I felt calm and peace again, suddenly, I knew why I have come back. And suddenly, memories of the sleepless from the days before melted away. I took a depth breath and I closed my eyes to take in the grandeur of this moment. I was in Laos again.
I arrived in KM52 a little before 4:00 PM; the trip took a little over an hour. The main KM52 bus terminal is located in the heart of town and sits directly behind the main market. We came to a stop, the doors swung open and a warm humid breeze rushed in. Everyone shuffled out, carrying only what they have brought in with them. I grab my laptop bag and my carry-on and step into the hot sun. Again, I wanted to say something to the young Hmong girl and her mom, but instead, I kept quite as they walked away and out of sight. Thankfully, my cousins had taken the 2 large suitcases filled with gifts and toys with them a few days earlier. It would have been a lot of work trying to carry 4 suitcases by myself. First priority after getting off the bus was to get to a Cell Phone vendor and purchase a SIM card… before my trip; I had hacked into my IPHONE and needed to get a SIM card so I can be on Laos’s phone network. I found a phone vendor on the other side of KM52 market and purchase a SIM card for 40,000 kip or about 8 dollars. I also purchased a phone card for 10,000 kip so I can call my cousin to pick me up, I was in town.
My cousins are still very poor, even by Laos’ standards. He and his family of 5 lives in a modest 2 bedroom house made mostly of bamboo sitting on a dirt floor. The house is located down a dirt road away from the Highway 13 on the north side of KM52, a good 15 minutes by scooter from KM52 Market. This house sits among 5-6 other houses, all without order and all with dirt paths leading to their front doors. On either sides of his house are sugar canes, bananas and papayas. In the back of the house is where they keep their chickens and a large pig that’s locked in his pen. Firewood is stacked neatly on the side of the house and there are cloths lines nearby where they can hang their freshly washed laundry. There is a communal water well about 30 yards away this is shared by all 6 houses and is their only source of water.
I arrived to a full house, about 15-20 people all cram into my cousin’s small home, a house that is no bigger than my living room. Everyone, it seemed, was staring and smiling at me. A hug here, a handshake there, everyone greeted me and not a single eye was dry. I opened the 2 large suitcases and passed the gifts I had, trying to remember exactly who got what. Everyone got something and soon both suitcases were empty. Everyone was so thankful and everyone had a smile, something that I rarely seen Hmong-Lao do. That night, I ate with people, I had conversations with friends, and I slept knowing that there were love ones nearby. It was good to be in Laos and to be with family again.
Until my next trip to the internet café…. Happy travels.
LHG
Topic: Going to Laos... For Dummies (Like Me) (Read 227005 times)