Even moreso than in Hawaii with all its Japanese influence, the Lao folk feel shoes are for protection (and perhaps a bit of fashion!) and definitely for outside. As soon as one goes over a threshold to the indoors, even if it doesn't seem like the indoors, lose those shoes. Maybe that's why girls of all ages ride sidesaddle on the backs of motorscooters; that's about the only place they can show off their fancy footwear. Otherwise, all those heels with rhinestones and sandals of every imaginable design and color of the rainbow are strewn about at the front door and no one but the wearer knows whose Manolo Blahniks are whose.
If you want to make yourself useful in Laos, sweep. You can't go wrong if you pick up a broom and propel whatever seems like dust or debris towards the nearest trash basket, which may be away off as there aren't many of them. I counted when I went to a home for Sunday dinner. The mistress of the manor swept the patio where we were eating five times in a thirty minute period. Shopkeepers are out as soon as the rain stops, sweeping up. A clean front stoop is, at the very least, a sign of good breeding and upright moral standing. And we're not just talking the store front, we're talking to the curb, the gutter and beyond. It is impressive.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Bed Bath and Beyond
I scored bigtime in the linen department at the guesthouse yesterday. Every two to four days, depending on the weather and the opportunity for things to line dry, the beds are changed. I thought I'd done about as well as I could when the avocado number showed up with the blue, green and gold leaves and the soccer balls and flags on my cotton coverlet. However, I returned to my room yesterday to find hot pink daisies with bright yellow centers and white doilies running the length of the sheets and a blue Mickey Mouse-clone coverlet. Cha-ching!
As for the bathroom, if those royal blue towels with the black stitching could talk! They're replaced every day; you get two and you best use them wisely. They've been through a lot and with all the comings and goings of all manner of folk at the guesthouse, the tales they could tell!
Motorcycle riders here wear their jackets backwards when they travel to protect their shirts and blouses from the dust. The secretary showed up with sox on under her high heels and gloves in the ninety degree heat as well; sun protection, she told me as I strapped on my helmet and climbed on the back of her scooter. Every adult has a surgical mask that loops over her ears; they come in all sorts of plaids and prints. They seem to be wash and wear and they are always in a pants pocket or bag somewhere; again, it seems, primarily to ward off dust.
Every day free opaque plastic liter bottles of water show up in the little room refrigerator. They're for teeth-brushing, drinking, tea-making; everyone uses them. They're faithfully delivered by trucks to every part of town. They're even in markets in plastic bags, ready to go. The Mekong may be mighty, but it's not potable.
It's endlessly fascinating to see how differently people live. Different yet the same.
As for the bathroom, if those royal blue towels with the black stitching could talk! They're replaced every day; you get two and you best use them wisely. They've been through a lot and with all the comings and goings of all manner of folk at the guesthouse, the tales they could tell!
Motorcycle riders here wear their jackets backwards when they travel to protect their shirts and blouses from the dust. The secretary showed up with sox on under her high heels and gloves in the ninety degree heat as well; sun protection, she told me as I strapped on my helmet and climbed on the back of her scooter. Every adult has a surgical mask that loops over her ears; they come in all sorts of plaids and prints. They seem to be wash and wear and they are always in a pants pocket or bag somewhere; again, it seems, primarily to ward off dust.
Every day free opaque plastic liter bottles of water show up in the little room refrigerator. They're for teeth-brushing, drinking, tea-making; everyone uses them. They're faithfully delivered by trucks to every part of town. They're even in markets in plastic bags, ready to go. The Mekong may be mighty, but it's not potable.
It's endlessly fascinating to see how differently people live. Different yet the same.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Perfect Storms
Nam (water) poured from the sky for the last twenty-four hours, as if to say, "It's monsoon season and I'm not done yet!" I did my usual mantra, "It's good for the rice crop," but my host, Po, says it's too late, especially for the land rice. They needed this wetness in April, May and June when it was dry. At least I hope it's good for the mighty Mekong, the source of life and commerce for this landlocked country.
Lao folk are matter of fact about making the most of the hand you're dealt. I've been thinking about this as I talked with Po yesterday as to how we move forward. His wife is very ill, being treated out of country and she needs him. He is going to be with his wife. I don't speak Lao or have an international driver's license, plus my time here is limited. What can I do? I can walk to the Center. I can continue to teach and serve as an positive example of American caring and sharing. Somehow it didn't seem like enough.
Then I thought about this post in Laos, which went vacant for eighteen months at least partly because it's so far away and people were afraid to go. I thought about the students who begin showing up at three pm for a five pm English class. I thought about the three little boys who were walking home under an umbrella and who waved to me and shouted, "Bye!" as I traveled past them in the rain.
Lao folk are matter of fact about making the most of the hand you're dealt. I've been thinking about this as I talked with Po yesterday as to how we move forward. His wife is very ill, being treated out of country and she needs him. He is going to be with his wife. I don't speak Lao or have an international driver's license, plus my time here is limited. What can I do? I can walk to the Center. I can continue to teach and serve as an positive example of American caring and sharing. Somehow it didn't seem like enough.
Then I thought about this post in Laos, which went vacant for eighteen months at least partly because it's so far away and people were afraid to go. I thought about the students who begin showing up at three pm for a five pm English class. I thought about the three little boys who were walking home under an umbrella and who waved to me and shouted, "Bye!" as I traveled past them in the rain.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Notice: Scrambled
This is the sign that shows up on Lao TV screens if the picture freezes up for more than a few seconds. It seemed to describe my take on things this week, too.
A baby has been staying in the room next to mine at the guesthouse for the past few days. The first day, I could hear his mother and older sister cooing at him and his gurgling reply, as if to say, "This is new. This is different. I'm getting attention. I like this." By yesterday, the baby had joined the frozen television screens of the land. Notice: Scrambled.
I could identify with that baby. I have been scrambled, too. Yes, the honeymoon period is over. I have been greeted and situated and now I have a job to do. Sometimes it's wonderful. Sometimes not so much.
Getting sleep last night helped. The baby's family had departed. Getting up and moving today helped, too. As I snapped on my fanny pack, slung my backpack into place, threw my ESL tote over one shoulder and held my umbrella with my free hand (umbrellas are Lao sunscreen), I walked out the door feeling better. As if to mirror my upbeat mood, a street vendor on a scooter with a sidecar drove past, playing "The Mexican Hat Dance."
A baby has been staying in the room next to mine at the guesthouse for the past few days. The first day, I could hear his mother and older sister cooing at him and his gurgling reply, as if to say, "This is new. This is different. I'm getting attention. I like this." By yesterday, the baby had joined the frozen television screens of the land. Notice: Scrambled.
I could identify with that baby. I have been scrambled, too. Yes, the honeymoon period is over. I have been greeted and situated and now I have a job to do. Sometimes it's wonderful. Sometimes not so much.
Getting sleep last night helped. The baby's family had departed. Getting up and moving today helped, too. As I snapped on my fanny pack, slung my backpack into place, threw my ESL tote over one shoulder and held my umbrella with my free hand (umbrellas are Lao sunscreen), I walked out the door feeling better. As if to mirror my upbeat mood, a street vendor on a scooter with a sidecar drove past, playing "The Mexican Hat Dance."
Monday, September 21, 2009
Expecting the Unexpected
I am eternally grateful for all those cold showers on the pool deck at the college. Little did I know they would help prepare me for Laos. (There is one knob on the water fixtures here and it does not go left and right--at least not on purpose. The water starts cold and at some point goes to tepid and there you are. If it gets to tepid, you have probably used too much water.) In fact, it seems everything in life dovetails to help you do the next thing. Even hopscotch. Maybe especially hopscotch.
I was packed and ready to move yesterday. I did not move. The lorry taking the ESL students to our new school forgot to pick me up, came back for me, then we found at our new classroom they were not ready for us yet. Come back tomorrow, they said. So we will.
Riding in a lorry during rush hour is a wondrous thing. It was happy hour in downtown Vientiane, so we saw many residents and visitors dining and relaxing and enjoying the cool breezes after a hot day. They lounged in the open restaurants, markets and even just on the sidewalks. Lots of families get on their motorscooters and drive around between four and six pm. There were little ones sandwiched between mother and father or sister and brother. There were folks driving their scooters and talking on their cellphones. Some things are universal. There were lots of minimarks and satellite dishes and shops and colors and all manner of goods for sale. I had each student on the lorry greet me in English and I greeted them back. We compared Lao and English terms for body parts. But mostly I guess you would call what we did yesterday part of a liberal education.
I was packed and ready to move yesterday. I did not move. The lorry taking the ESL students to our new school forgot to pick me up, came back for me, then we found at our new classroom they were not ready for us yet. Come back tomorrow, they said. So we will.
Riding in a lorry during rush hour is a wondrous thing. It was happy hour in downtown Vientiane, so we saw many residents and visitors dining and relaxing and enjoying the cool breezes after a hot day. They lounged in the open restaurants, markets and even just on the sidewalks. Lots of families get on their motorscooters and drive around between four and six pm. There were little ones sandwiched between mother and father or sister and brother. There were folks driving their scooters and talking on their cellphones. Some things are universal. There were lots of minimarks and satellite dishes and shops and colors and all manner of goods for sale. I had each student on the lorry greet me in English and I greeted them back. We compared Lao and English terms for body parts. But mostly I guess you would call what we did yesterday part of a liberal education.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Doing a Good Deed
The office secretary and I were riding home on her motorscooter Friday after class. It was, as usual, a lovely evening. There was a cool breeze and the dark cradled us, plus we felt the relief that comes after the challenges of the day and the week have been met. After rush hour the street traffic is mostly scooters and that makes travel more relaxing as well. All of a sudden, she looked down to check something on the scooter's front. Then she stopped the scooter dead in its tracks. We had a flat front tire. We got off the scooter and started walking it; her steering and me pushing from behind. We were in the middle of a dark patch of road when a man on a scooter came up beside us and started a conversation with the secretary. I girded myself to protect her as she is young and cute. He drove alongside for some time with me wondering how all this would play out when we finally came to a tire shop that was open. Alas. The wife of the owner was in the front of the shop and told us her husband was taking a shower, so he was through for the day. We began pushing again, our new sidekick along with us when, bonanza, we came to an open shop. These owners, luckily, seemed happy to help us and immediately set to work changing the flat. Our new friend disappeared, then reappeared with a bottle of Pepsi for each of us. We skeptically thanked him. "Kawp jai." He had a chat with the shop owner who was replacing the tire and handed him 20,000k. Then he drove off. Shortly thereafter the scooter was fixed and we asked, "Tao dai?" "How much?" The smiling shop owner said the bill had already been paid. We were the cynical recipients of a lovely deed. Food for thought.
Some Things I've Learned
In my little waterpik shower this morning, I reflected upon two weeks of my ongoing Lao education:
I have learned why there is a bucket of clean water with a dipper in the bathroom,
I have learned to put the toilet paper in the trash,
I have learned everything in the bathroom gets wet,
I have learned there is very little kleenex and there are very few trash cans in Laos,
I have learned that Ban Nagao lies between Ban Nongneo and Ban ThongPong,
I have learned the line in the middle of the road is mostly for decoration,
I have learned it's possible to do things you thought you couldn't,
I have learned there are wonderful people everywhere.
Po (my host) is traveling and his secretary is practicing for the SEA Games. I am enjoying the fans in the office and the computer (including internet!) all to myself. Po's secretary has an older brother who is getting married on Monday and her family wishes to be there for the wedding. However, it was a rush decision so there has very little time to prepare. It seems the bride's parents died recently, so she lives alone in a farming village down south with her elderly grandmother. This is not a good thing, so the groom is marrying her before their original date in order to protect her social standing. The secretary's family is poor and they are stretched to deliver the 3,000,000k (about $350) for his dowry as he will take over her house. That plus traveling expenses to get there make it all a dicey situation. We here at the office each chipped in and hopefully the wedding will be attended by all who wish to go. It's been a time of community.
As for the SEA (Southeast Asia) Games, they begin in December. As I understand it, they are a kind of mini-Olympics held somewhere in Southeast Asia every four years. Vientiane scored them this year, which is a great coup for the city and country. There will hopefully be much traffic and tourism as the athletes and interested citizens flock to the festivities. The office secretary auditioned and was chosen for the Opening Ceremonies. Each Saturday the participants practice so they can look splendid on national television and beyond! The schools, the offices, the restaurants, everything is getting spruced up and everyone is getting excited.
Reflecting back on the first week of ESL class, I was touched by the little girls all freshly washed, with talc still visible on their necks; the boys looking handsome in their school uniforms or their clean clothing; the earnestness of each student as we struggled together to communicate effectively and learn a language which will hopefully be helpful to them in some way. Their greetings are coming along and I think they will be able to conduct class themselves by the end of November. Singing is still our favorite thing.
I have learned why there is a bucket of clean water with a dipper in the bathroom,
I have learned to put the toilet paper in the trash,
I have learned everything in the bathroom gets wet,
I have learned there is very little kleenex and there are very few trash cans in Laos,
I have learned that Ban Nagao lies between Ban Nongneo and Ban ThongPong,
I have learned the line in the middle of the road is mostly for decoration,
I have learned it's possible to do things you thought you couldn't,
I have learned there are wonderful people everywhere.
Po (my host) is traveling and his secretary is practicing for the SEA Games. I am enjoying the fans in the office and the computer (including internet!) all to myself. Po's secretary has an older brother who is getting married on Monday and her family wishes to be there for the wedding. However, it was a rush decision so there has very little time to prepare. It seems the bride's parents died recently, so she lives alone in a farming village down south with her elderly grandmother. This is not a good thing, so the groom is marrying her before their original date in order to protect her social standing. The secretary's family is poor and they are stretched to deliver the 3,000,000k (about $350) for his dowry as he will take over her house. That plus traveling expenses to get there make it all a dicey situation. We here at the office each chipped in and hopefully the wedding will be attended by all who wish to go. It's been a time of community.
As for the SEA (Southeast Asia) Games, they begin in December. As I understand it, they are a kind of mini-Olympics held somewhere in Southeast Asia every four years. Vientiane scored them this year, which is a great coup for the city and country. There will hopefully be much traffic and tourism as the athletes and interested citizens flock to the festivities. The office secretary auditioned and was chosen for the Opening Ceremonies. Each Saturday the participants practice so they can look splendid on national television and beyond! The schools, the offices, the restaurants, everything is getting spruced up and everyone is getting excited.
Reflecting back on the first week of ESL class, I was touched by the little girls all freshly washed, with talc still visible on their necks; the boys looking handsome in their school uniforms or their clean clothing; the earnestness of each student as we struggled together to communicate effectively and learn a language which will hopefully be helpful to them in some way. Their greetings are coming along and I think they will be able to conduct class themselves by the end of November. Singing is still our favorite thing.
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