My Final Week in Laos

I have begun writing this entry and the ones that will follow in my mind a thousand times (not surprising since I finished my trip and left SE Asia over two years ago now), but something has always stopped me. Initially, I was simply too tired. Travelling away from home for three straight months can be rather draining regardless of how wonderful and exciting your trip. I had been living out of a backpack for three months, eating out for every meal, and constantly trying to adapt to new and very different cultures. I was, frankly, exhausted by the end of my trip. Additionally, returning home was more than slightly depressing. Going back to the same old routine of school – without pause from my travel – and trying to reintegrate into American culture brought on a serious case of the blues, preventing me from even considering finishing my blog for some time. Eventually, however, I realized that I needed to provide a conclusion to my trip and give my time in SE Asia its final pages. And so, here we are – the final stories of this bookworm’s adventures in SE Asia.

My last week in Laos was understandably nostalgic and more than a little sad. I had been living in this remarkable country for two full months now, had made friends in the local community, and learned the streets of Vientiane almost by heart. Zenia and I were putting the finishing touches on all our projects at work during the day and we spent each evening making the rounds of the city, saying goodbye to our favorite places and our new friends.

So Long, Noy’s Fruit Heaven

One of our first and most important goodbyes was made to our friends at Noy’s Fruit Heaven. You will all recall that Noy’s became one of our favorite spots in all of Vientiane, home to the most delicious pineapple-apple smoothies in the entire world. In fact, Zenia and I stopped there every single day after work to enjoy a fresh and refreshing drink. Over the course of our two months of daily visits we had come to know the two girls who ran the stand very well. Neither girl spoke any English and my Lao was extremely limited (basically: hello, how are you, I’m well, counting to ten, and “no egg” in that language, but that was the extent), so our friendship was built on the unique form of communication that crops up when people don’t speak the same language, but really want to communicate.

Each evening Zenia and I would ride our bikes up to the stand and begin our ritual. We would each look briefly at the stand to see which fruits were available that day and then would point to the fruit that caught our eye. Upon saying the names in English, the two girls would look at the fruit to which we were pointing and would then say the name back to us in Lao. After two months we had learned most of the names and could order our drinks in Lao, my favorite being a combo of mac-nat and mac-apun (“mac” is the word for fruit, while “nat” or “apun” describes the type of fruit), or pineapple and apple. Zenia and I would then sit at one of the tables outside and wait for our drinks. Once the girls finished, they would bring over the smoothies and sit at the table next to us and our conversation for the evening would begin. First, the girls would say something in Lao, pointing emphatically to us, our bikes, or random objects and making hand gestures in order to explain their comments or questions. Next, Zenia and I would attempt to discern what they were talking about and would respond in English, using similar gestures and pointing motions. This would continue until it became clear that we were talking about the same thing or not, usually with a 50/50 rate of correct guessing. After our conversation was concluded, Zenia and I would take our leave with much smiling and waving on all sides and assurances, in both languages, that we would return the next day.

And so, over time, we developed a friendship with these two young girls. (Names were never successfully exchanged as Lauren was too hard for most Lao people to say – the l’s and the r’s were problematic, so problematic in fact that one man I worked with at VFI called me Flower – and Zenia was equally confusing. Thus, as we couldn’t really understand what their names were either, Zenia and I referred to them as “the Noy’s girls” and I assume we were “the bike girls”.)  Zenia and I managed to explain that we were visiting from America and Canada for the summer and working in the city and they managed to tell us that they were from southern Laos, but had moved to Vientiane and were now working and living in the city. We all looked forward to our visits each evening and it was with heavy hearts that Zenia and I contemplated saying goodbye. We both realized that something more was needed than our customary communication process to properly say goodbye to these girls and so we wrote out a note in English saying how much we appreciated their friendship, how we were returning home in just one week, and how much we would miss them both. I then asked Chinda to translate the note into Lao for me and that evening we took it to our favorite place in all of Laos.

We arrived at the stand at our customary time, but were surprised to see only one of our friends there. We produced the note, however, to the one remaining and, with the help of some Lao men sitting at one of the tables, the note was read aloud and we finally held a more usual conversation with our Noy’s friend. One of the Lao men spoke some English and was able to translate. It turns out the other girl was called away home to southern Laos, but we were assured she would be read our note as well. We all exchanged hugs, well wishes for the future, and assured each other we would always remember our time and friendship. And thus, we said goodbye to our friends at Noy’s Fruit Heaven.

Farwell, VFI.

Our last week in Laos was also our last week at VFI. Naturally we had become good friends with all of the people there, making friends with nearly all of the staff and the locals who came by each day for English lessons in the afternoon. In the middle of our last week at VFI we were told that the we would be ending early on Wednesday for a lunch and party in the seating  and coffee area in front of the VFI office. Mid-morning a group of the women of the office and I went out to buy some traditional Laos food for our party. We went to some local stands just a few blocks away from the office and bought bags and bags of various meats, laap, kebabs, chicken-foot soup (ew!), and sticky rice. We set up a buffet table of food, the men brought out two cases of Singha Thai beer and everyone was invited outside to enjoy the festivities.

Before we began gorging ourselves on the bounty of Laos food spread before us, my supervisor, Na, gave a brief speech about the important work we had all accomplished at VFI during our summer and what it meant to them all to have us there. It was extremely touching to hear her speak about us in such glowing terms and how much they enjoyed our time at VFI. However, upon her conclusion, she clearly expected one of our group to give a similar speech about our feelings on our time in Laos and at VFI. The six of us looked at each other and waited for someone to step up to the plate and give a speech that we clearly had not prepared for. As I looked around, I could see the hesitancy on each face and as I had become the closest with our Lao friends of the entire group, I took it upon myself to say a few words. My speech went a little something like this:

Thank you all for this wonderful party. I have had the best time of my life here in Laos. Thank you for welcoming us all to VFI, into your country and into your lives. We have all made friendships here that will last us our lifetime and we will never forget you or the time we have spent in Laos. We have learned so much from all of you and you have made our lives better by being in them. I can’t speak for everyone, but I know I speak for both Zenia and myself when I say that we wouldn’t have wanted to be placed anywhere but Laos. Zenia and I have been doing a lot of travelling around SE Asia in the past three months and have visited Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam and I can tell you that Laos is by far our favorite. Not only in terms of food and sights to see, but also in terms of people. The Laos people are the friendliest and nicest people in all of SE Asia and it has been a privilege getting to know you all and becoming friends with you all. So thank you. We will miss you all terribly.

It was a speech given from the heart and I meant every word. I was hugged by all my new friends and then we began feasting and it was clear how well my new Laos friends had gotten to know me as they each drank Singha Thai beer, but gave me my very own large bottle of Orange Mirinda (orange soda) to drink instead. (Of course, they were all laughing at my distaste for alcoholic beverages during that time, but I chose to take that as a little friendly ribbing.)

Alveterzane, Vientiane.

Each evening of our last week in Vientiane was spent riding our bikes around the city and eating at our favorite restaurants. We also made time to visit some of the sites we had yet to see, stopping at a local temple and receiving a fortune (I still have it, but have no idea what it says), and simply riding around streets we had yet to see.

On one of these outings Zenia and I came across a strange rock creation we had never seen before. A simple spire built from old stone, it stood in the center of the street and had been simply built around, creating a roundabout on the road. Grass was growing up the sides and when we consulted our maps of Vientiane, we realized it was not even labeled. The structure seemed noteworthy, however, and as we found it terribly amusing that we had managed to miss this fairly massive structure during our two months of living in and riding around the city, we stopped our bikes to take some pictures. We were standing a good deal away from the structure and alternating poses in front of it when a man with a very large rifle came out of an entryway to our house and began to yell at us in Lao and motion us to leave with his gun. Zenia and I froze on the spot, unsure what we had done wrong, but as he continued toward us with the very daunting weapon, we decided that retreating was our best option. We put our cameras away, got on our bikes, and continued toward the structure and away from the guard. As we rode past the man, we saw a sign on the wall surrounding the house in front of which the guard was standing and realized it was an ambassador’s residence. Evidently, two foreigners taking photos in front of an ambassador’s home was a little suspicious and the guard had simply been ensuring we were not taking photos of the house, but it was a fairly terrifying event nonetheless.

The rest of our goodbye to Vientiane and Laos was less eventful. Our time in Laos was wonderful, but after returning our bikes and saying our final goodbyes, we were ready to leave for the last leg of our SE Asia journey, a quick trip to Phuket, an island in southern Thailand, and then a final week of de-orientation in Thailand with BABSEA.

Goodbye, Laos.

Having said goodbye to all of our new friends and favorite haunts in Vientiane, we were ready to actually take our leave. But that is the beginning of our Phuket story…