Vietnam War memorial in Phonsavan, Laos, showing North Vietnamese and Pathet Lao soldiers.

Vietnam’s literary works on Laos are valuable assets that help strengthen the two countries’ friendship and cooperation.

Lao Deputy Prime Minister Asang Laoly made this affirmation while receiving a Vietnam Writers’ Association delegation, led by Chairman Huu Thinh, in Vientiane on December 27.

He thanked Vietnamese writers for their investigations and explorations of the past struggles for national independence and freedom as well as for their documentation of Laos’ new lifestyle development process. He said the writings encourage the peoples of both countries to extend their contributions to national development.

Writer Huu Thinh highlighted the special solidarity and traditional friendship between Vietnam and Laos. He noted a number of his association’s members were comrades of the Lao people in the past revolutionary war, stressing the veracity of their varied accounts.

Thinh said that in 2013 the Vietnam Writers’ Association will cooperate with its Lao partners to compile a collection of writings focused on Laos’ land and people. A number of Vietnamese writers were also officially honoured with prizes during their visit.

Source

Committee representatives of the Lao People’s Revolutionary Youth Union.

The Lao People’s Revolutionary Youth Union (LPRYU) last Thursday held a nationwide review meeting on the implementation of the union and its affiliated organisations in Vientiane Capital.

“The meeting is also aimed at celebrating the 57th anniversary of the LPRYU (Dec 2, 1955-2012), materializing the 4-breakthrough steps of the LPRYU, the resolution of the 9th Party Congress, and the 6th General Meeting of the Lao People’s Revolutionary Youth Union (LPRYU),” said Deputy Secretary of the LPRYU Executive Committee, Mr. Khampha Phimmasone.

“So far this year, relevant committees of provinces have attached attention to the education of political ideology and dissemination of the resolution of the 6th General Meeting of the Lao People’s Revolutionary Youth Union (LPRYU), rules of youths and young pioneers and they have been taught national patriotism,” said Head of the Youth and Young Pioneers Department, Mrs Somsanith Keodaungdy.

“The plan for next year focuses on enhancing the education of political ideology, and promote the three-good and four-development campaign and ensure that this campaign is implemented by at least 50 per cent,” said Mrs Somsanith. The meeting was chaired by Secretary General of the LPRYU Executive Committee, Mr. Vilaivong Boutdakham.

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Deputy Prime Minister Asang Laoly declares the Asean University Games closed.

As the flaming cauldron dimmed yesterday it signified the end of the 10-day 16th Asean University Games, and smiling athletes raised their hands in farewell after a joyous time in the Land of a Million Elephants.

The 10 days of competition were packed with emotion – the ecstasy of winning and the pain of losing. But the most important aspect of the event was the sense of friendship and peace that prevailed under the games’ slogan ‘We are Asean Family’.

The goodbyes that take place today need not mean that we are far apart. We will all carry in our hearts the special memories of these past 10 days in the Lao capital Vientiane and remain close to one another forever. Although it may be goodbye to Vientiane, we will all meet again in Indonesia in two years’ time.

Last night we watched enthralled as the delegates and athletes representing 11 countries from Southeast Asia gathered again at the main stadium of the National Sports Complex in Vientiane. But the atmosphere was different compared to the opening ceremony because some competitors had tears in their eyes at the thought of having to part with their friends.

Performers put on a spectacular show at the games’ closing ceremony.

Every participant in the games has benefited from the experience and improved their skills, bringing closer the dream of one day playing for their national team at a higher level.

The student teams from the National University of Laos improved upon their ranking at the previous Asean University Games held in Chiang Mai, Thailand, in 2010 when they came sixth. This year their hard work paid off and they moved up to fifth place.

This year’s games saw 240 gold, 240 silver and 320 bronze medals awarded for 240 events in 17 sports.

The Lao teams won 32 gold, 35 silver and 46 bronze medals, placing fifth behind Malaysia, Vietnam, Thailand and Indonesia. In 2010, Lao managed only 2 gold, 9 silver and 30 bronze medals and placed sixth out of 11 participating countries.

Malaysia topped the medal tally with a haul of 60 gold, 48 silver and 72 bronze, while in second place was Vietnam with 56 gold, 35 silver and 28 bronze medals.

Thailand came third with 45 gold, 52 silver and 56 bronze medals, while Indonesia placed fourth with 41 gold, 52 silver and 61 bronze medals.

The official closing ceremony began at 5:30pm with the parading of the Asean University Games flag followed by a grand procession of all the athletes from the 11 countries taking part.

After the opening parade, the Vice Chairman of the Organising Committee, Prof. Dr Soukkongseng Saignaleuth, who is President of the National University of Laos, summarised the results of the games and thanked all supporters and sponsors.

Then the Organising Committee Chairman, Dr Phankham Viphavanh, who is Minister of Education and Sports, talked about how the competitions had cemented bonds of friendship and peace between the athletes and officials from participating countries. At the same time, he said, the various sports had raised the bar for the students of Asean universities.

The games’ organising committee then thanked all the sub-committees for their hard work, as well as Lao people all around the country, and local and overseas sponsors who had helped to make the games a success. They also thanked the 2,533 delegates, including the 1,625 athletes, for sharing in the games and wished them a safe journey home.

The games were officially closed by Deputy Prime Minister of the Lao PDR, Asang Laoly.

Before the final performances, Indonesian Ambassador to Laos, Kria Fahmi Pasaribu, on behalf of the Indonesian government, received the Asean University Games flag. He also gave a speech to welcome everyone present to Indonesia in two years’ time.

A troupe of Indonesian dancers then gave a colourful performance as a foretaste of their welcome at the 17th Asean University Games in 2014.

This was followed by more presentations from young Lao performers and the ceremony then proceeded to the impressive grand finale as fireworks erupted into the night sky.

And so everyone bid farewell to Vientiane, the capital of Laos, but with their sights firmly set on the next Asean student games in Indonesia.

Source

Mr. Nouchanh Chanthaphong, District Party Committee, Champasack District Governor, the shared man of running races and organizer committee of human trafficking day opening the running ceremony at Wat phu site.

To honor Anti-Human trafficking Day in Lao PDR, on 15 December 2012 the Information, Culture and Tourist Department of Champasak Province joined hands with District authorities, Village Focus International, United Nations Inter-Agency on Human Trafficking Project, UNODC and other international partners to organize a one day event to speak out the key message of human trafficking to the people in Champasak, which reached more than 700 people locally and internationally.

The event included 47 kilometer bike races early in the morning from Pakse’ to Wat Phu, follow up with 6 kilometer running races around the Wat Phu, which more than 200 people participated on the racing session.

The information booth of human trafficking, stage of the drama performance, traditional dance and singing human trafficking and child protection song from school volunteers also consists in to the event, which is aiming to raise awareness about the form and impact of human trafficking and engaging youth, community and local authorities to take action and combat human trafficking in their own community by speeding the key messages and knowledge that they learned and entertain from the event, as well as take an initiative to protect their children.

Along side with performances 1000 brochures, posters and booklets were handed out, and some audience enjoyed receiving t-shirts, ball pens and note books as memorable of human trafficking day and learn the messages.

Mr. Buathong Souvannasan, Provincial Party Committee, the Director of Information, Culture and Tourist Department of Champasak, and the shared man of organizer committee speaks at the event that “the government of Lao and provincial authorities give attention in combating human trafficking in person. We are in the process of developing legislation and measures to fight human trafficking, but we have relevant legal framework to protect Lao people, victims of human trafficking, and punishing an offender.”

In addition he also encouraged all the people to take an ownership to prevent and fight all forms of human trafficking which bring a negative impact to our country and exploit our people. He said “we should join hands and take an ownership, which start from us individually, our family, community, village, district, provincial and nation. The ownership of this should join, we must cooperate to educate our people and take an initiative to protect our family and community members as well as report of suspects of human trafficking network movement in the areas as slogan “Together we can stop human trafficking!”

Human Trafficking means the recruitment, moving, transfer, harbouring, or receipt of any person within or across national borders by means of deception, threats, use of force, debt bondage or any other means and using such person in forced labour, prostitution, pornography, or anything that is against the fine traditions of the nation, or removing various body organs of such person, or for other unlawful purposes. Penal law article 134, and on the Promulgation of the Law on Development and Protection of Women articles 24 to 28.

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So after the bus ride full of puking and beautiful scenery we arrived in Luang Namtha, found a guest house to drop our stuff and walked around town to explore a bit and find out what the activities are? what prices are like? what do they eat? etc.

This whole time I’m with the French couple and the Australian students. They figured out everything for me, that’s usually how it goes, you don’t have to do anything, if people around you are more stressed out about being in a new environment they’ll go figure out everything for you, where to eat cheap, where to find cheap accommodation, what the activities are, you just gotta lay back and enjoy the scenery, breath the new air and smile at life.

When I started my trip I was carrying a few Lonely Planet travel guides with me, they were quite heavy. After the first month I got rid of them, not that they’re useless, they just don’t suit my traveling lifestyle. I don’t like itineraries, I don’t like to go where everybody is going, I like to improvise on the spot. Plus, many people I come across along the way have those travel guides and if you’re lost, they’ll point you in the right direction.

When worse comes to worst, I go online and go to Wikitravel, on the spot and it usually gives me the info I need, I can even print out a wikitravel article, one sheet, I throw it away once I’m done, instead of carrying those heavy travel guides full of info when I’m only going to use 2% of it. I’m not saying travel guides are bad, that’s just my style

Back to what I was saying, my travel buddies figured out everything for me.  I often like to be on the passenger seat and see where life takes me. They booked a 3 day trekk in the jungle, so I joined. The next morning we were off to one of the best treks of my life. We walked between 5 and 7 hours a day through tropical jungles and bamboo jungles, came across giant trees, indescribable waterfalls, we visited tribes that lived deep inside the jungle and shared lunch and diner with them. It was an amazing experience.

Here are some pictures of this trek.

To make the story short, 3 day trekk, camping in the middle of the jungle, the guides even had to go fishing in a small river so we could eat diner. It was an amazing experience.

After we got back, the next day I was just walking on the main street, hanging out and I came across one of the guides from the trek. This guy was my smoking buddy during the trek, we’d take brakes and share cigarettes, so when I bumped into him on the street he had the reflex to offer me a cigarette and I accepted. It turned out he was with a couple of his friends and they also invited me to join them for beer. So there I was, smoking and drinking with locals, just chatting about everything and nothing. That’s when I brought up what I had in mind….I told them I wanted to volunteer. I actually wanted to teach english at the local school. That’s when one of the guys told me “you can help me with my business”. I’ll name him Sing. Sing had like a travel agency, a small shop where you can book a trek, go kayaking, take cooking lessons, visit the tribes or book a bus ticket. He told me I could help him with his shop and also teach english to his younger siblings. All I asked him in return was to provide me with food and accomodation…and some pocket change for cigarettes and beer. “Come to my shop tomorrow morning” he told me, and that’s how it got started.

In this picture we’re celebrating the signing of this unwritten agreement.

I stayed at Sing’s house, with his family, helped them cook, ate with them and lived like them for a whole month. In the morning I would teach english to his younger siblings and after lunch I’d come to the shop, help him find customers, I helped him with his brochures, I translated them in french and spanish as well, I was going on trekks for free as a guide, meeting amazing people, sharing amazing experiences….for free.

In the end I spent less than 100$ that month, made a bunch of new friends, discovered new cultures, tried new foods, enjoyed beautiful nature and more….

Because the best things in life are free

The baci is more usually called the su-kwan in Laos, an older name meaning the calling of the soul. Baci is a corruption of a Cambodian phrase bha sri meaning ‘the rice of prosperity’ and is the proper term for a ceremony involving royalty or high statesmen.

The Su-kwan has its roots in animist pre-history and means the calling or welcoming of the ‘kwan’. Traditionally, Laotians believe that the body is made up of thirty two ‘parts’ or ‘organs’ and that thirty two kwan protect each one of these parts.  The kwan constitute one’s spiritual essence and are part of the body from birth.  It is difficult to illustrate exactly what they are, as they are intrinsic to the body and life force, yet separate.  These kwan have a wandering nature and are only too glad to abscond from the body without warning, causing illness and distress until they return. They can be led astray by other bad spirits, and must be reminded to come home as often as possible by this ceremony.  When someone dies they fly off and join with others to be reincarnated into someone else. 

The su-kwani is a ritual binding of the kwan to their owner and is a way of conveying good luck and goodwill to all the others present. It is an extremely warm-hearted ceremony and epitomises the generosity of spirit of the Lao people.

In Laos, the ceremony is conducted by a learned priest who chants all the words from memory.   Here is London a respected elder, the president of the Lao Association, Mr Mouongphene, led the ceremony by calling the spirits to cease wandering and return to the body.  He asked the kwan to come and share in the feast and bring well being to those gathered. After this everyone joined in the ceremony taking string from the centre and passing them over the hands of their neighbours to flick away bad luck. The action was repeated towards the wrist to bring in good luck, the strings were then  tied on to bind the spirits while saying blessings.

“We do this when someone comes to visit, or a member of the family goes away or at a wedding, when someone is sick, at New Year, even as a ‘treat’ for a child who is causing a problem. It’s very affectionate, like a warm welcome,” my friend Khamtoune explained last week,  “Like when you open a bottle of champagne to celebrate an old friend who has come to visit.”

This is the first travel-blog post I’m writing on here. It feels funny to just recount my travel experience, but I think it was worth recounting, so here it goes.

Term 1, 2012 ended just as it began: quickly and quietly. After a day of rest, Maggie and I headed down to Bangkok for her birthday celebration and my first trip to the big city.

My first impression was that it seemed like an overgrown Chicago with some balmy weather and really good street food thrown in for good measure. It’s amazing how an hour flight south changes the temperature, but as soon as we got there I started sweating and I didn’t stop until I got back here over a week later.

Despite that, I love Bangkok.

I love the mix of people and the wide boulevards and the sound of traffic and the BTS (Metro/Skytrain). I love that they have a Dean + Deluca next to a classy 7/11 downstairs from a Mac store and across the street from the best Jazz bar in town. I love being able to visit half a dozen malls in a day and find shoes that are actually my size.

So after a marvelous weekend getting my culture fix with my girl and spending a whole lot of money in the malls, Maggie shipped out to Hong Kong and I went the other direction to Siem Reap and Angkor Wat.

I’d read many “warnings” on the internet about taking the bus and what a scam it is and even how dangerous it could be to be an uniformed tourist taking that route. So armed with a “best-chance guide” and crossed fingers, I set out to the bus station where I took an all-Thai bus to the border. Since I’d left so early (5:15!), I was the only person in the non-Thai line at the border and had absolutely no difficulty crossing over. I splurged on a taxi on the other side (Poipet rhymes with toilet, but I found it slightly nicer) and found myself in Siem Reap in time for a delicious dinner at cheaper-than-Thai prices.

The next two days, I temple hopped, with my personal guide and driver. I’d gotten the Lonely Planet back in Vientiane, so I had some idea of the history of the temples and the itinerary that I wanted to follow (“little” temples on the first day, “major” ones on the second day). My guide took care of the rest, and we visited more temples than names I can remember. I was able to take several hundred photos and have a great not-too-touristey experience, thanks to my guide who specialized in both of those things. The highlight was probably coming upon Preah Khan (my favorite) from behind, after trekking several kilometers through the jungle – even though there were tourists up front, from the way we entered, it was really easy to feel the same sort of wonder the first re-explorers must have felt when they came across these incredible temples in the 19th century.

What else…

I loved my experience of Khmer/Cambodian people. After the highly-professional-keep-to-themselves attitude of the Thais I met in Bangkok, it was great to be back in a warm and playful society. The guys I met in the hotel and in town reminded me a lot of some of my favorite Lao folks: very kind and helpful with a wicked little playful streak and a deep-rooted love of smiling and laughter. Something about being a tourist and being alone pushed me into my extra-extroverted mood, and wiped away the anxiety I sometimes have about interacting with people in Laos. The result was a whole lot of fun and not a lot of worry, which was nice for a change.

After a third solo-day photographing the bas-reliefs at Angkor Wat and the Bayon (the two castle-temples built by the Khmer kings), I headed back to Bangkok for some last-minute shopping and a cinema fix. I stayed at a lovely hostel where, thanks to my 4 days of solitary travel, I made a nice group of friends very quickly. They went to see The Hunger Games with me and, again, made me feel comfortable and relaxed looking like an idiot not knowing where to go rather than stressed out and annoyed (as I would normally have felt if I’d done it alone). The next day, I met up with Maggie back at the airport and we flew home together, to our cats who probably didn’t miss us as much as we missed them (they have each other now, after all).

It’s hard to believe that my one-year anniversary is coming up in just a few short weeks. Term 2 has just started and we’ve got (my first!) Lao New Year in a few weeks. Over the break, I had many chances to explain what I’m doing here to all sorts of strangers. It felt good, saying that I live here and have been here for a year with another year and a half ahead of me. I love my job and my house and my cats and my girl… Things are going pretty well.

Laos is basically Thailand, Vietnam and Cambodia’s poor, landlocked relation.  Less developed, less travelled but no less spectacular and what it lacks in wealth, it more than makes up for in natural beauty.

And when I say poor, I mean poor.  Most families (including grandparents) live hand-to-mouth in nothing more than a simple bamboo hut with one room, no electricity and a fire outside to cook with.  That’s pretty much it and it’s very humbling to see how simple their lives are and yet how content they seem.  Maybe it’s got something to do with the ubiquitous Laos Laos whiskey (made from fermented sticky rice), but it’s probably more likely that they don’t know any different – most Lao people have never even left their provinces so have nothing to compare their lives to.

Despite having very little compared to our relative western comforts, there is still a lot that can be learned from the Lao lifestyle.  There is a very strong focus on family and being together.  It’s said that a Laos person never eats alone and this is evident everywhere you go with families and friends gathered around the fire, all sharing food, making balls of sticky rice, singing, playing music (oddly through enormous PA speakers), joking and of course, drinking Laos Laos. The elderly are especially well cared for and are an integral part of the family – the concept of a grandparent living in sheltered accommodation would be met with horror and dismay in Laos.

There is also a very strong work ethic and everyone in the family does their bit, including children – with no moaning or complaints.  We regularly saw young kids shovelling piles of stone or helping to build huts or carrying food to the market and all of them seemed perfectly happy to help contribute to the household and daily workload.  I don’t think ‘whinging’ or ‘tantrum’ are words that have a Laos translation.  Everyone just gets on with it with no fuss.

Overall, there is a feeling of overwhelming unity here that it’s difficult not to be a little envious of.  You can’t help but feel that although we would clearly not want to swap places with people living in wooden huts, our modern western culture has encouraged us to always want more (the best cars, the best houses, the best partners, the best careers etc) and to put such a focus on our own happiness that traditional family values can often become forgotten in our own quest for self-fulfilment.

So here’s to the Lao people – who have very little, need very little but can still teach us a lot.

- I’ve reached a point at which I’m totally comfortable on my motorbike. One of my favorite things about driving (a car, back home) is the sort of hypnotic state you reach when you’re relaxed with your vehicle and surroundings. Until recently, I was constantly on edge while driving my bike, but I’ve become more familiar with it and this town so that I can now reach that comfortable driving place pretty regularly.

- The tiniest shows of gratitude and enjoyment from my students are incredibly rewarding. After working with the customs group yesterday, one of my students grinningly took a picture of the white board (with a paragraph we’d written about me as a class using new vocabulary) – later, a quiet student from an elementary class gave me a tourist notebook from her hometown, explaining that she gets to go home in a few weeks. Even just a “have a good weekend, teacher” at the end of the class has a tendency to brighten my day quite a bit.

- I’d forgotten until now that I have a background in phonics. Most of my  Lao students have expansive and frankly impressive vocabularies, especially considering that all the words they can read, they’ve learned to read as sight words. That is, they know that the letters “b-o-y” say “boy”, but they have little to no concept of what the individual letters say. I’m making it my personal vendetta with my private lessons (and also my class lessons, to an extent) to integrate phonics as much as possible so that when I’m gone, the students will be able to read new words on their own.

- As the crazy kitten chemicals have left Bill’s body, he has become the most sweet and docile cat I’ve met. He is still loud, but usually, it’s only to demand that he be picked up and allowed to flop in our arms. His rituals are both comforting and so quintessentially him – the places he sleeps, the way he “hunts” our hands, the times he wants to drink from which sink. I remember after his operation, it was these rituals re-emerging that assured me he was OK.

- Maggie and I made the most spectacular changes to our apartment over the course of the last two weeks. Two Sundays running, we’ve gotten ourselves up and engaged and have moved all the furniture in our apartment, hung all the art we’d had framed months ago, and re-designed our “Bill-free” spare bedroom to incorporate all of our non-kitty-friendly weavings and tapestries. It’s amazing what a bit of grunt work and some fabric can do to completely reinvigorate a space.

- It’s the That Luang festival this week and, as much as I’d like to attend the festivities, I’m seriously wary of the gigantic crowds and increased police presence. We’ve been on guard all week since Vientiane College is located on the street leading up to the stupa – they told us we’d have to show our IDs and prove we were going to VC in order to get past the police checkpoints. I think I’ll be staying home tomorrow morning and relying on my friends photographs to show me how it went.

- Speaking of police, here’s an 8-second snapshot of my commute. The police direct traffic (you can hear one blowing a whistle) and occasionally intone traffic rules and regulations through a megaphone for commuters to hear as they wait and drive past.

- I’ve gone sinh crazy lately. The sinh is the skirt worn by most women here, especially in work or other formal settings. I’ve had a few made before, but they were poor quality and so I rarely (see: never) wore them. Since getting the job at the customs department (where it’s 100% necessary to wear one), I’ve had several others made and, lo and behold, they’re extremely comfortable. So now I’m wearing them almost every day – besides being comfortable they’re quite pretty and never fail to get a reaction out of just about every Lao person I meet.

The Rugby World Cup is finally winding down and for the first time in 5 weeks, this weekend won’t be sunup-to-sundown rugby Friday thru Sunday. Overall, the RWC has been an awesome experience – I’ve gotten to know both national teams much better and, as a sort of French-language-liaison, I’ve gotten to know a bit of the French community here as well.

Last weekend was one of the best experiences I’ve had in Laos so far; after the two Sunday rugby games, Maggie and I hung out for 6 hours or so with the men’s and women’s national teams (plus a good portion of the club teams, as well). After the final whistle, most of the falangs cleared out of the bar, but the Lao folks stayed behind, and we stayed with them. The result was good-old-fashioned Lao Beer-halling, which, as one of my new friends told me, is always “bor tang gaan” or off-the-record. In my experience, Lao people love to play at just about anything; the beer hall is an excellent forum for their playful natures to have free reign, laughing, talking, and everything in between. All to be forgotten the next morning, of course.

The cool part for me, though, was that they didn’t bat an eyelash at the fact that I was participating. It made me feel confident in my Lao that I could follow a decent amount of the conversation, and it was such a welcoming atmosphere that I felt more at ease with a large group of folks speaking my non-native language than I have probably ever felt. I was even separated from Maggie for most of the night, but it really didn’t matter.

Speaking of Lao, I’ve been making great strides with my classes both at VC and CF. The in-between language at ChildFund continues to develop and flourish; I know that I’m catching subtleties in the Lao and translations that I would have completely missed a few months ago. Stringing together whole sentences along the lines of “She should try that shirt on first, I’m not sure it’s going to fit” actually come easily now and we’re all happier for it.

At Vientiane College, I’ve started a new term and my unquestionably favorite class is Elementary 1. Elementary classes don’t have a good rap at VC, so anybody willing to teach them is usually well-accepted. Thanks to my Teaching Assistant, communication is a breeze. And as an added bonus, my level of Lao is approximately at the level of English that I’m teaching them, so I’m able to follow along with the translation and learn quite a lot of Lao myself. As for the actual content, I think I gravitate towards the small victories as a teacher – I would so much rather congratulate a student for finally mastering the present simple form of “to be” than for writing a good 3-paragraph essay.

So now that I’ve got Lao down (hah…) I’m starting to pick up Thai. I’ve got no interest in the language itself, but the writing system is so ubiquitous here that I figured I could use my visit to Thailand two weeks ago as an opportunity to pick up some learning materials. Well-made flashcards are actually fun for me, so hopefully, that will go well.

The trip itself was lovely – I went to Chiang Mai by way of Udon Thani  and while the latter wasn’t good for much but shopping, the former was very beautiful indeed. Here are some photos and video:

(click the photos for the full albums)

Alright, that’s enough for now. I’ve got more to say, but I’ll save it for another day, which will hopefully be less than 6 weeks from now!

• Thai is a first language here. Among the generation young enough to have had Thai TV on all the time and Thai products flowing freely in and out of the country, it was acquired in the same way as Lao: through immersion. Almost all of my students can freely converse and read in the similar-but-definitely-different language, and some hardly think of or notice the switch. One of my students at ChildFund was amazed that I could know so many words in English, until I pointed out that she was native-speaker-fluent in two languages. That made her feel a little better.
• My Lao is getting so much better. For the first few months that I worked with my group of three support staff at ChildFund, I was all but lost when they tried to translate what I said back into Lao. I did a lot of nodding and smiling when they would re-translate and probably led them down the wrong path of understanding more than once. Now, though, we’ve somehow reached the same level in our respective new languages. They know enough words in English and I know enough in Lao that we can both cover the same material and never have a major gap of understanding. Meeting in the middle makes everyone feel great and it reminds me why language learning and teaching is one of my favorite things.
• My young learners are some of the greatest kids ever. Aged 10-19, they don’t have as many reservations when it comes to language learning, and they haven’t been jaded into “forgetting” the basics; they’re sharp as tacks and eager to learn more. So when they genuinely don’t understand something, it’s quite evident and sometimes hilarious. Explaining “take the dog for a walk” for example, didn’t go very well. In Laos, dogs are mostly “village dogs” – they may get their food from one family, sleep under another’s porch and generally wander around as they please. They’re fond of taking their afternoon naps in the middle of roads, no matter how busy — which is just further proof of how accommodating Lao traffic is. So trying to explain a leash to these kids as a device meant to harness a dog so it doesn’t get away and take it around the neighborhood so it gets some exercise… was understandably quite confusing.
• That same class helped me realize that English is a tonal language. I guess the thought had crossed my mind before while listening to monotone presentations or non-native speakers that, despite their perfect grammar and decent pronunciation, just didn’t sound right. But it was during a pronunciation exercise about stress that the analogy hit me – for as many times as I asked the class to repeat after me and to copy my emphasis, they were still collectively using the same monotone. When I drew the words on the board, though, and drew tone markers like I’d seen in my Lao text books, it suddenly Clicked. Teacher and students alike were amazed and amused that it had worked so well; we spent more time than was probably necessary trying it out on all sorts of different phrases.
• I saw a Detroit Tigers hat the other day. I am in love with the city of Detroit and baseball is one of those only-in-America kind of hometown activities that will pull at the heartstrings of most people who have been away from the US for nearly a year. My dad loves baseball and I’ve been convinced to cultivate an appreciation for it over the years; the year I spent in Detroit, however, turned me into a Tigers fan for life. Very little beats the feeling of walking into a stadium on a warm summer afternoon packed to the rafters with people cheering for Your Town, wearing T-shirts and flip flops and face-paint proving their support. Rich, poor, black, white, everybody comes out to support Our Tigers and that feeling just gets into your blood and stays there. That said, you can imagine my excitement when I saw one of my students (who probably can’t locate Detroit on a map) wearing a baseball cap with my team name on it. He bought it (which was, upon further inspection, a “copy” of the official insignia) from a street market in Korea. I hope I didn’t scare him too much with my enthusiasm.

Expat and traveling bloggers who find themselves in Laos are always quick to pick up on the idea of “bor bpen nyang” or “bo pen yang” or “baw ben nyang” — literally, “it’s nothing.” It extends further than the French “de rien” though, acting as a kind of “chill out” mantra. Late for work? Bor bpen nyang. Forgot your homework? Bor bpen nyang. Motorbike broke down? Bor bpen nyang. The path of least resistance is pretty much the only path around here. It’s refreshing.

And that leads to flow. You see it in the way the traffic moves, the way the herds of motorbikes flow around one another, not honking as they weave in an out, merely moving aside. You can see it in the way people walk, so utterly relaxed – not quick and stressed like an American or assertive like a Frenchman – but slowly, enjoyably, shoulders comfortably forward and no trace of tension. Folks around here have the tendency of lightly scuffing their feet on the ground as they walk, not dragging them like a petulant child, but not fully lifting them either. It reminds me of a certain breed of girl at my high school, the type that couldn’t be bothered.

Time, too, flows differently here. As a lifelong Michigander, I’m used to four distinct seasons. Warming in April, cooling in September, peaks in January and July. Here, though, I realize that I’ve somehow ended up at nearly the end of the Michigan summer, with no memory of the beginning or middle. It doesn’t feel like August. It doesn’t feel like I’ve been here 3 months, going on 4. The lack of delineated seasons isn’t a result of the culture, of course, but it makes me wonder if the culture responds to it. Then again, there are seasons here, too — dry and cool from September to December, dry and hot from January to April, and wet from May to August. The wet season is a sleepy season, with most Lao preferring to sit in front of the TV with family to going out with friends or, if at all possible, going to work or school. The staff room at VC always buzzes with absentee predictions if there’s a particularly heavy downpour 20-30 minutes before our students are due to arrive.

So I apologize for being so absent lately, and I apologize if I continue to be scarce. Maybe once it gets cold out (or “cold” for those of you who think the upper 60s are warm), I’ll be around and aware more. For now, though, I’m just going to slip back into the flow of things.

As a foreigner, there are certain accepted behaviors. Especially in Vientiane, there are certain restaurants, certain grocery stores, certain nail salons, spas, banks, travel agencies — all catering specifically to backpackers, falangs, rich out-of-towners who are expected to act a certain way. To have the “Lao Experience” you should do x, y and z — and you’ll be greeted with a smile and a nop and then sent along your way.

I’m definitely guilty of falling into a lot of these traps. I eat at nice restaurants on a regular basis, I can’t help but shop at the “foreigner” grocery stores, and I’ve gotten several mani/pedis since my arrival and just had a 4-hour spa treatment for my birthday. To the Lao I encounter in these places, I’m probably no different from any of the penny-pinching pajama-wearing backpackers, trying to fit as much off-the-beaten-track adventure as possible into her 3 days in Laos. So what if I speak a little Lao? So what if I nop back, or say thank you, or handle the money correctly?

But then there are people like Maggie who spend as much time with Lao folks as with foreigners and more time speaking Lao than English. I can’t count the number of times when we’ve been on her motorbike stopped at a red light and she has struck up conversation with the girl on the bike next to us, saying hello, how are you, where are you going. The girls are invariably amused, and always answer with a smile. People remember her, too – or us, I should say, though I rarely contribute to the conversations. Being an anomaly works well for her; even though she enjoys the same aspects of the falang culture as I do, she makes a continuous effort to participate in Lao culture as well. In her year here, she has found a pretty perfect balance between the two and, as I continue to settle and lay down my roots here, I want to adopt that same balance.

In the end, I think we’re all clichés. Writing this blog is cliché. Taking a VIP bus to Vang Vieng (as we’re doing tomorrow) is cliché. Ordering Beer Lao by the river, wearing a Western-built motorbike helmet, asking for the Wifi password while eating a muffin in the falang-owned coffee shop are all cliché. Taking part in certain aspects of life here is inevitable to a degree, but ultimately, we always have a choice. For now, I’m happy living the way I’m living, and that’s what actually matters.

Maggie being away was harder than I thought it would be. Or, rather, it was just as hard as being apart from her for 10 months except worse because I don’t speak too much Lao and I can’t get around too easily. Except both of these things are a result of the self-defeating logic I sometimes adapt when I’m feeling in the mood for self-pity, which is to say much of the time when I’m apart from my better half, which is to say most of the past 3 weeks.

Anyway, she came home yesterday and left again today, so my batteries have been recharged a little.

On the topic of Lao: one of the best things that has happened to me since Maggie left is my new-found title of “regular” at the Thai-Irish bar around the corner, aptly named “O’Corner.” It’s always empty at lunch time (it’s quite the destination in the evenings; karaoke there is apparently fun), so I go with my e-book and read while they make me delicious food for not much money at all. They have several dozen lunch specials for €1.20 to €1.50. Great and affordable food, but best of all, forced language practice. The first time I went in, it was a struggle to say “this one please” – the second time, I read the Lao title of the food I was eating – and since then, I’ve been trying to talk to at least one waitress every time I go in, if only to update her on when Maggie will be back or ask how her day is going. They think my Lao is quaint. And, typically, they’re endlessly amused by a falang who knows how to say more than just “one Beer Lao please.”

The thing that has kept me going most, though, is my work. I am extremely grateful that both of my jobs here are so wonderful. My classes at Vientiane College continue to brighten my evenings with their playful antics and surprising vocabularies. Last night, my “quiet” class shocked me by being wholly invested (even the “tough guys” and “adult students”) in an activity about re-designing a café. My favorite class continually amuses me with their collective “whoops”: In a close-knit group of Lao people, it’s not unlikely that they will all suddenly erupt in noise for seemingly no reason at all. Once, I found my entire class nearly rolling on the floor with laughter; I asked a student what they were doing and he said “just laughing!” – I asked him why and he said “I don’t know!”

My other job, which I’ll call KidTrust for sake of not breaching my contract, has really started to amaze me. I have 3 different groups of students: two solo students who are focusing on mid-to-upper level grammar/writing and a third group of three who are learning the bare basics. Thankfully, I have a great bilingual Lao-English set of textbooks that helped me get through the most basic lessons (“I don’t understand” “Thank you” “See you Wednesday”) but now that we’ve gotten past those, it’s fascinating to see where my students are leading me. Best of all, unlike VC, Lao isn’t banned in the classroom (how can it be at such a low level?), so my classes at KT are teaching me all sorts of Lao, too.

The language we speak in class is probably best called Laoglish or Englao – it’s very much a lexis caught in between the two languages, with a large heaping of sign language mixed in. It was very difficult at first, but now that my Lao has gotten a little better and their English has gotten a little better, it’s much easier to meet in the middle of our languages.

And the best part, by far, is when they step out of their comfort zone and ask a question that they suddenly have the vocabulary to formulate. Today, a student said to me: “Excuse me. Today, Chris no is here. Telephone call; what say?” It reminded me of how I would sit in wonder at one of my favorite students at Lindamood-Bell who had come to us as a 4-year-old with a vocabulary of about 50 words and who left a very chatty and mischievous nearly-normally-functioning 5-year-old. With her, I would just sit and listen to her talk even though I knew I should be trying to get her to do the lesson tasks instead; with my student today, I couldn’t help but continue to ask and answer her questions, just to see how much she had learned to say, and what’s more, how to apply it to real situations in her life.

It’s a pretty amazing feeling, knowing you played a role in helping her (either her) achieve that. It reminds me that I can help my Lao teachers (be it Maggie or the girls at the restaurant or the house cleaner I talk to periodically) feel the same way if I just get up the courage to speak up and spit out whatever it is I’m trying to say.

I think one of the problems with that book (and this post so far) is that it asks a whole lot of cliche, open-ended questions and sometimes forgets to answer them.

The other day, a friend read me an essay from one of his students about the Lao and their relationship to things like the communist government. There aren’t many freedoms in their constitution, he said, but yet there aren’t many restrictions, either. To him, it exemplifies the collective attitude of the residents of this country: people will stare and talk if you run through the market naked, but nobody is going to try to stop you. The government has exclusive and all-encompassing control over its own functions and things like the state-run media, but they won’t prevent Thai TV or bootlegged DVDs from China from entering the country (provided the right people are spoken to and slipped a few million kip).

So what does this mean for me, coming from France, which, to me, exemplifies the opposite in both these categories? The French, bless them, seem to me to be defiantly unhappy, unsatisfied with their careers, children, houses and (to a degree) even food. It’s perfectionism with a bitter aftertaste, on a national level. The government is never doing the right thing, even though it does more things and does them more efficiently than many other first-world governments. The health system is nearly perfect: a well-oiled machine serving millions at low cost and with high quality, and yet so many French are constantly complaining about it. And the government, though it is effectively semi-socialist and not communist, seems to reach its documents and letters and justificatifs into every corner of even a short-term resident’s life (of course signed and translated proof of a volunteer job in a country 7,000 miles away isn’t sufficient justification to cancel a cell phone contract!).

It’s a typical question, I suppose, for a person in my shoes. The best I can do at this point is take notice of it, for example: in a situation like a motorbike crash, the police’s attitude can be described as “well, this is kind of unfortunate, but it’s kind of interesting, too, and it sure beats sitting around doing nothing.” I’m lucky to never have encountered a similar situation in France, but the in closest situation I experienced – standing outside a ferry station in Calais in the middle of the night in winter – the police’s attitude was much closer to “there are so many better things I could be doing right now (watching paint dry, for example, or eating). Let’s just get this over with so I can go back to being slightly less annoyed.”

Reading back over this post, I see that the French attitude has rubbed off on me. Ironically, I suppose, I seem to be complaining about the French habit of complaining. Maybe a good remedy to this is to do as the Romans do and focus on the best parts of days, hours and situations. Like just now, for example, eating a sandwich (I know… not very good for doing as the Romans do), listening to Thai music videos and VC student-chatter; or earlier today, having an actual conversation with the housekeeper and before that, my class – in Lao. Or yesterday, the way I managed to go from one girl alone in a scary situation (motorbike crash, yes I’m ok, yes I’m wearing my helmet and staying off my bike for a while) to a large group of people, Lao and Anglophone, crowding the sidewalk and street. Thinking like this is not that hard; life is pretty good here. It’s definitely a shift in mindset, but I can already tell I prefer it.

Let me say that it is a pleasure to read this well written, smartly plotted series. The series has everything I enjoy: an exotic setting, well developed characters, political intrigue, suspense, complex cases with the added touch of rituals, mysticism and dark magic.

The novel begins with Dr. Siri and his assistant, Nurse Dtui traveling from the Vientiane capital to the northeast to Vieng Xai (Pathet Lao Caves). It’s a town known for sheltering PL officers. There’s an entombed body that’s been found on the President’s compound and Dr. Siri is asked to lead the murder inquiry. Meanwhile, Dr. Siri’s assistant back home, Mr. Geung, has been dispatched off by the judge to some work detail. Mr. Gueng has a mild case of Down’s syndrome but he’s an invaluable asset to Dr. Siri in the autopsy room. Dr. Siri, Nurse Dtui and Mr. Geung work as a tight unit. Unfortunately, Party officials view Mr. Gueng as useless and no sooner than Dr. Siri’s out of sight, they try to get rid of him.

Tracking the identity of the mummified body, Dr. Siri runs into former Cuban colleague, Dr. Santiago, who works at Killometere 8 hospital. Dr. Santiago has an idea who the entombed body might belong to and as they investigate, they learn some disturbing details that involves a forbidden relationship and the use of dark arts, sacrifices and ritualistic killings. The spirit world is very much apart of this series and this culture and it is so well done. Dr. Siri himself is a shaman, hosting the spirit of an ancient Hmong shaman- Yeh Ming. He has visions or visits from the dead whose souls are restless or who died an unnatural death. He wears an amulet under his shirt to ward off bad spirits due to the outcome of a previous case that involved an exorcism.

I love this series. LOVE IT. The writing, the setting and humor are just wonderful. I love stories like this that are rich in political intrigue and suspense. The protagonist is in his 70′s and finding life rather busy for him after the royalists are relieved of power. Being the only coroner for the nation, Dr. Siri has been kept busy doing autopsies in high profile cases. Much of the stories are set outside the autopsy room (so far) but if graphic violence is a problem then this series is not for you. Often Dr. Siri is asked to investigate cases that are politically sensitive. Sometimes involving high ranking officials.

What is gripping is the novel’s constant return to the spiritual realm. I despise stories with paranormal elements to them but this series is the exception. Visions and ghostly visitations are apart of this culture. I enjoy the elaborate rituals and myths. With Dr. Siri as shaman, he’s able to gain insight into his cases by his being able to see events unfold before him, as a silent spectator. He sometimes has vivid, symbolic dreams that aid him in his new role as amateur sleuth. While black magic and ghosts and spirits are prevalent, the novel’s roots are steeped in reality. Meaning that most of the answers to some of the fantastic happenings have a logical explanation. However, some things cannot be explained. There’s even a sense of humor about the spiritual world. It’s like while fantastical things do happen, it is still seen as having a logical explanation.

While the royalists are stripped of power and in hiding, we are treated to a scene or two with one of them cropping up unexpectedly. I enjoy those scenes. The author tends to not let on that who Dr. Siri is speaking with is an ousted royalist until the scene is just about over. The Lao people in general are depicted as a friendly people. Most of the educated classes have left to Thailand. A lot of the government offices are ill-equipped to handle the day to day business and often have to make due. Most times it is understaffed and without many resources. Dr. Siri has often had to come up with creative ways to obtain his results in the autopsy room.

Wrapping this up, I am just in love with this author’s writing and this series. A big thank you to Trisha for telling me about him. So far, the three books I’ve read in this series are excellent. It’s like going from strength to strength. When I pick up the next book (which I am doing), I just know it’s going to be good. In fact, I am anxious to know what new case Dr. Siri has to solve next and what spirits he has to do battle with. This was an B+ read. I’m sure there are flaws and such but damned if I stopped to notice them. There is a lot I left out because this post is already too long. I hope you all will read him. The first book in the series is The Coroner’s Lunch.

camp in Thailand

The United Nations refugee agency today asked the Government of Laos for access to some 4,000 ethnic Hmong Laotians who were deported from Thailand yesterday although many had been there for over 30 years and some were recognized as being in need of international protection.The UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) has no formal presence in Laos. Many Hmong living in the highlands of Laos took part in the conflict that engulfed the country in the 1960s and 1970s. When the Pathet Lao came to power in 1975, tens of thousands fled to Thailand in search of asylum, while others were resettled in Western countries such as the United States.Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon today voiced his concern that the deportations had taken place despite appeals from the UNHCR and the availability of third country resettlement solutions for those recognized as refugees. “He urges the Governments of Thailand and the Lao People’s Democratic Republic to take all necessary steps to respect the rights of those concerned and to facilitate humane solutions,” he said in a statement issued by his spokesman.

Yesterday, High Commissioner António Guterres called on the Thai Government to halt the forced returns, but to no avail.Despite its long history as a country of asylum, Thailand deported the Hmong from two camps, one in the northern province of Petchabun and another in Nong Khai in the northeast. UNHCR was given no access to people in the first camp, while those in Nong Khai were all recognized by the agency as refugees.“UNHCR is also calling on the Government of Thailand to provide details of assurances received from the Government of the Lao People’s Democratic Republic within the framework of a bilateral agreement between the two governments concerning the treatment of the returned Lao Hmong,” the agency said in a news release today.

“UNHCR has asked to be informed of steps taken by the Government of Thailand to ensure that commitments made under this framework are effectively honoured.”The agency said it has long maintained that the process of repatriation should be transparent and that no one with a valid protection claim should be forcibly returned to Laos.

"Pra Ya noo Noi" at Wat Lao, Washington D.C

Grand mother sitting having conversation with me.

Lum Vong before Basi, my second aunt on the right, grand mother with the white shirt, and bunch of my mom friends.

Relatives and friends made basi for us wishing us happiness, good health, prosperity, and a safe trip back home.

These are the children visiting the clinic while I was there. These children are my inspiration to work hard and keep going no matter how difficult it is.

Friends; I met during my many trips back to Laos. Four of the men own "MASK Gallery" in Vientiane. Marc Leguay House's used to lived and worked.

My mother is constantly in the kitchen, followed by my sisters, me I stay away from the kitchen as far as possible.  I have absolutely no skill in the kitchen.

Nam wun "Kao la Song" with palm seeds, melon, fresh coconut juice and cane syrup YUMMMM.......

The best part about  holidays are spending time with families and friends.  I made a trip back to my family as much as I can.

 I want to wish people whose visit my blog’s the best Thanksgiving.