From the back of a pick-up
Bochi ball played with flying flip flops;
A toothless man advertising the joys and perils of his sugarcane for sale;
Caged roosters on the roof cocka-begging-yoouu to set them free;
All sizes of pigs, cows, goats, chickens, ducks, dogs, and children scattering from the road as we arrive, sometimes needing encouragement from a meek “Meep, Meep;”
Wearing, blinking, eating dust, one step away from spitting it out the windows like the locals.
Chilly air, green mountains, driving through clouds;
Hands weaving, waving, chopping, warming by fires;
Laos in stocking caps, coats, wrapped in towels, buying bananas, fish on sticks, bamboo filled with caterpillars, always generous with their smiles and greetings;
Filling the truck with “Asian stripe bags,” feed sacks, bodies upon bodies;
Always watched, simple movements, objects taken from our bags likely weighed for similarities or oddities. Mostly similarities—shivering, snacking, smiling, shifting, mind-over-bladder, sneezing out dust, we in our “songthiew” share very human sensations and thought.
Our last few days have been very pleasant ones characterized by long (7+ hour) rides in the back of a converted pick-up, viewing incredible little villages on the hillsides, sleeping in towns that I can’t pronounce or find in my guidebook. Definitely one of those “pleasure’s in the journey” experiences. Yesterday was Lao National Day. Unsuspectingly, we continually stumbled across “party pods” that tried to lure us in with their English: “Hellllooo, come here.” “You drink alcohol?” “I luhv yuu.” We sat for a brief celebration—accepting one round of Lao whiskey and pig hind–before walking back to the noodle soup and Carebear sheets that waited for us.
Tomorrow, cave trip to Viangxay (close to Vietnam border), then heading south toward Plain of Jars, Vientienne, and, maybe, Vang Vieng. And maybe we just don’t know for sure. : )
“Few can foresee whither their road will lead them till they come to its end.” J.R.R. Tolkien
Tags: Laos
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