I hate when

I'm drinking a late afternoon coffee on the veranda overlooking the Mekong and trying to write, and then a kid walks by blaring "I Got a Feeling." Thanks, Westernization.

Update:

I have a really bad tan from my Tevas, and I keep accidentally eating ants.

a millionaire, I'm a young money millionaire

I'm currently in the possession of 2 million kip. WADDUP.

blogging is SO HARD

But seriously.

Finally got bikes today. My bike is nowhere near as sleek & pink & pretty as my baby at home (which is chillin in the garage, neglected and lonely, with its leaky tube/flat tire), but it has more durability/tread. I sacrificed aesthetics for practicality because I intend on ridinnnn out on many a rocky dirt road. Alex and I are trying to outfit our bikes with boomboxes so we can blare da gangsta beatz, NBD. (Parents: you will be pleased to know that I did not get a motorbike, which is what 95% of people drive hurr). Anyway, it'll be nice to ride the 5 km into central Vientiane without having to hail a tuk-tuk. Slowly but surely decreasing our falang status.../nope, as long as Alex carts around about 40 pounds of camera equipment everywhere we go, we'll be straight falanging. Also, the fact that we're obviously white...


Lao version of Arc D'Triomphe. Waddup, colonialism.

So, apparently "winter" (mid-70s) is still a while off, because it's been in the low-mid 90s the past couple of days and my nose is now the proud owner of a truly flattering sunburn. I PINE FOR YOU, COLD WEATHER/SNOW/UNPLEASANT SLEET-RAIN-ICE MIX (I'm talking to you, Prov). Mmmm, coated in sweat by 10 AM. It's really lovely in the evenings though. As soon as the sun goes down at 6, it cools down really fast and the nights are breezy and wonderful. Not autumnal, but as good as it's gonna get for now. Speaking of autumn, I was worried I would miss all my favourite fall customs (Halloween, hayrides, leaves changing, apple picking, etc.), and, for the most part I am...except for pumpkins. No pumpkin patches or carving, but lots and lots of delicious soup made from them. Mmmmmmm. Def makin a pumpkin pie 4 thnxgiving.



All right, the sun is going down in and lightning is flashing over Thailand (what? how weird is it to say that!) and I want to get a little nap in before we meet up with our new friend--our first friend!--later this evening. Hope everyone is doing something for Day of Action! Oh, and check out this organization; we're doing some volunteer work with them and they're super!

Banana Girl

There are over 500 varieties of bananas in Laos, each of them more glorious than the last. For the first time in my life, I believe in God.

Nam Ngum Reservoir

Not a bad place to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Too bad the creation of this paradise was a side effect of the construction of the Nam Ngum hydroelectric dam, which destroyed the lives of thousands of villagers living along this river. The Chinese now want to build seven more dams along the Mekong. Thanks, but no thanks.

baw pit farang

I thought I was going to get a parasite/tapeworm here, but so far, chances are I'm just gonna get fat. The food is not only FANTASTIC, but also so inexpensive. Take, for example, our dinner yesterday. We went out--my first meal out in Laos--to enjoy some noodles before a traditional malang concert (which, as it were, we never made it to, but more on that later). The tables around us were crowded with young men and in the back of the restaurant a male trio was jamming away with some light Thai, Vietnamese, and English tunes. I ordered the Lao pad thai, which, though similar to the popular Thai pad thai, had very skinny noodles and, in my opinion, much more flavahhh. We also indulged in some Beerlao, the beverage of choice in Laos, and lemonade. Lao lemons are much sweeter so the Lao make lemonade the right way--no sugar added. Deliciously tart. I plan on drinking it like water (especially considering you're generally not supposed to drink the water). Anyway, the bill came and we split the check: about $3 each. Yup, 3 bucks for a heaping plate of noodles that I couldn't even finish + drannnnks. I could really get used to this. Just as John, our new Scottish friend, divulged to us tonight: once you get used to living in Southeast Asia for a few months, you may never make it back. He's been here for fifteen years. So if you all don't see me until I'm 35, you'll know what happened.

After lingering to enjoy the band a bit longer ( "It's your god forsaken right to be ruv ruv ruved..." Jason Mraz cover: CHECK), we rolled out. We never made it to the concert, however, because we got held up by the po-po. Yeah, just bein' BAMFs. Nope though, not for opium possession or something remotely cool. Jacqui, ready to make a U-turn, passed the white line and out of nowhere a young policeman trotted over. Ain't no thang, because Jacqui proceeded to school the young man in Lao and then bffl out with his boss. Jacqui's got 99 problems, but a traffic ticket ain't one.

The past couple of days San, my new main girl, has been teaching us how to cook and, perhaps more importantly, how to speak Lao. As we "helped" chop veggies, San pointed to each of the foods and told us the Lao word for it, which we then echoed like silly parrots and I jotted down phonetically. I am now pretty fluent in Lao, as long as I don't stray from the kitchen. My favorite Lao LOL so far is that the word for "pork" is VERY similar to the word for "friend." Also, this word is basically "moo," which adds another layer of irony. Over lunch, Jacqui shared with us an amusing anecdote about confusing the two words and asking a confused girl whether she went to school with her pigs over and over again. BTW, San has culinary SKILLZ. not only can she wield knives like I've never seen before, but she can slice a toothpick in half. LENGTHWISE. Damn, girl.





Now, on to the matter of "pit PITTTT!" A lot of Lao dishes are rather spicy, which I think I'm handling pretty well, if I do say so myself. But San is sensitive to those of us living here who are not so into da spicez and makes dishes baw pit (not spicy). It's hard to really explain, but the expression "pit PITTT!" is yelped by raising your inflection on the repetition of the word, mimicking the agitation the chile sparks. The exclamation has become a favorite of ours. Alex and San like to mock me by saying baw pit farang or "no spiciness for the dumb Westerner." Farang too has become a staple of our limited vocabulary; whenever we do something touristy or just plain stupid, a little "Look at this foolish farang" self-deprecation is in store.



I've come to terms with the fact that I don't have the time or discipline to update this daily, but let me just say, the first four days here have been jam-packed with incredibleness. Just settling into a whole new way of life is really thrilling and exhausting. Last night, after feasting and imbibing down by the river, we ambled around in the temperate late evening, a cooler wind meandering through the lazy town and it felt so natural. It seems forever ago that I woke up from a nap into the fiery sun melting into the Mekong, our first afternoon here, asking myself, "Is this a dream?" Nope, this is just my life now. And I can dig it.

Some travel pics (I think if you click on them, you can view them bigger):



entering immigration in Bangkok, sporting my last flannel for a while...



learning Lao over breakfast at the Bangkok airport



tarmac, Vientiane