A Day in the Life of a Ban

It's six in the morning and the winter sky is still shaking off its last shadows. However, the houses are lit and the villagers are having breakfast, usually hawpia, a simple noodle soup that's dressed-up by adding greens, pork rinds, perfectly-round meatballs and a myriad of sauces and other ingredients. Most Lao like it "pet" (spicy). By seven the quiet streets have morphed into a video game of transportation vehicles traveling everywhere. Driving here is not for the faint of heart. Large trucks rule, followed by smaller trucks, vans, cars, tuk tuks, and bicycles. Scooters fill-in every open space, often going both ways on both sides of the road. Scooters coming out of alleyways assume they have the right of way and assuming seems to make it so. It's an amazing dance of the barely possible.

It is trash day and there are baskets of every description put out to be emptied. Some are plastic, but most are scarcely held together by their weave. Out in front of the guesthouse, Isuzu trucks worked all evening the night before, dumping dirt, sand and gravel into the road pocked by heavy September rains, then stayed around to supervise its smoothing. (Note to Author: Work on being less judgmental.) Traffic is now humming, grinding and chirping along. Even so, those who don't have to be out yet will wait until at least eight-thirty to avoid rush hour traffic. Most don't have that option as time is money and there is none of either to waste.

At nine, the animals, those who work at night when it is cooler, and those who have leisure emerge in search of goods and services. The shops have been open since eight and school is now in session until noon, when students go home for a one-hour lunch break then return until three or so. Cows wander the footpaths, dogs, cats and chickens are everywhere, some disoriented roosters are still crowing. The ban goat family may appear anywhere at anytime, and often do, sometimes on their best behavior and sometimes not. There seems to be a new brood of chicks every day.

Today it appears a fancy restaurant is opening on the main street in town. There are tables with cloth tablecloths, chairs and a colorful large arbor supplied by some florist in the area. Tomorrow it will become apparent this is the grand opening of a new lumberyard. There are several mom-and-pop Home Depots and Lowe's Lao-style on the main street. There is much construction, so they each seem to be doing well. Each one displays its stainless steel sinks, its powder blue squat toilets for the hong nam (bathroom), its latest models in roofing tiles. Each one is separated from the others by a cellphone establishment, a pharmacy, a small grocery and a seasonal shop now selling shiny golden items for the That Luang Festival in downtown Vientiane.

The lottery ticket sellers have set up shop everywhere. Their favorite spot seems to be in front of the wat. They put out their card tables and folding chairs and give a whole new twist to the passage about the moneychangers and the temple. Vehicles stop, purchase tickets through the passenger windows, then are on their way.

Tuk tuk drivers are drumming up business for their next trip to Talat Sao (Morning Market). As soon as each vehicle fills with eight to ten passengers, off it goes. Street vendors are everywhere; some pushing wide wooden wheelbarrows to display their wares, others on scooters or bikes with sidecars, selling everything from grilled bananas to brooms. Neighborhood open-air restaurants are making lunch by ten and barber shops and beauty salons open throughout the day and stay open into the evening.

The only thing missing in the ban is a bank. More than ninety percent of the residents have no need for such an establishment. Car dealerships, on the other hand, do a fairly steady business, thanks in part to the fact they also sell scooters. Hyundai and Toyota have dealerships that would fit right into any city anywhere. Toyota even has its front lawn cut to display its name and logo. Be that as it may, the most popular make for tuk tuks is Yada.

At three, traffic which has calmed somewhat during midday starts to pick up again. By four every street is lively, especially in front of the major ban market. Talat Sao is a desirable destination, but it is in central Vientiane and most cannot be bothered or take the time. Many cars, tuk tuks and trucks simply leave their engines running on the side of the road while they run in to get fruit, vegetables or laundry soap. The congestion doesn't end until seven, when the heat of the day is finally waning and shops have generally closed. Most villagers shower after work, eat dinner between seven and nine, watch a bit of TV, then turn in so they can do it all over again tomorrow.