V for Vanity

Having checked out of the guest house, I had an hour or so to get dinner. I linger a minute, then feel a strong urging to go down French cafe lane. As fate would have it, I ran into the same Farang that I stood in line next to at the Thai embassy. An older gentleman, half-Swiss half-Greek, born in Thailand, and after finishing the University in Switzerland, has lived in Thailand for 40 years. With him was his son (half-Thai). Having learned my lessons from the Indian gentleman on the way into Laos, I agreed to go with him to the embassy in a taxi (which turned out to be cheaper than a tuk-tuk, especially after the gentleman insisted on paying). After, of course, we sat down for a meal at Via Via. (V is not a sound that Thais can naturally make. It sounds like Wia Wia. Don’t know about Laos, though).

I even got to have some coke in this pepsi town (the glass it was poured in read pepsi). We sit down, and he can really get to talking. Talking about how the French are the worst tourists, Swiss are penultimate (both due to arrogance – who’d've thunk?), and that’s why he travels with his Greek passport. Anyhow, he also got to talking to about Thailand – the people, the government, the army, the banned book, and even the royal family (now, speaking against the royal family is a grave offense. The author of the banned book cannot return to Thailand without immediate prosecution, because the book speaks out against the royal family). Seems to be fairly disgruntled, though intelligent, and did give interesting conversation. But I won’t repeat his words, as I don’t agree with many of them, and I don’t want to say anything in an open forum I might regret.

It will certainly be a turbulent time when the King passes - he is over eighty, and has reigned over 60 years – basically since the end of The War. It will be up to his heir to maintain the balance (between monarchy, government, and army). The government is known for its corruption, though has little power to do much without the support of the army. The army certainly has the power to remove the government if it desires, though supreme executive power is in the hand of the King, assuming the army is obedient. And these in some way relate to the support of the populous, but I’m not sure how yet. Anyhow, I would prefer to not see a revolution here. Long live the King!

So we finish lunch and head out, grab our papers without trouble – and my 60 day visa! – and the taxi drops me off at the bus station around 1:15 pm. I quickly buy a bus ticket to Udonthani, which leaves at 2:00, as well as a half kilo of Dr. Seuss fruit. Sat down, with a constant barrage of drivers soliciting “tuk-tuk”. I can’t just sit and wait for a bus. A number of monks (four, I believe) sat down by me, smiled, and started talking to me. Practicing his english, which was actually quite good. Two of his comrades were also very interested in our conversation, and would often smile and make eye contact. A lot of eye contact. Is that blue eyeliner. Yes, Yes, it is.

Keep talking. The one I’m talking to informs me with a smile that his “two friends would like to ask me for ‘my info’ “, but they can’t speak English good enough. He laughs. They blush. Perhaps they didn’t have much time left before they were done being monks. Or perhaps they weren’texactly fulfilling their vows. Anyhow, the one I’m talking to wants to send me an email to keep practicing english. I am amused, so I acquiesce. I have a feeling I’m going to get three emails, though. Moments later, nearer to where my bus arrives, another guy starts hitting on me, and his English was decent. Either that, or he was just really friendly, and wanted to look at my sunglasses. Well, the cute British girls next to me assured me I didn’t look gay. Of course, that could be an insult, meaning that I don’t look good or take care of myself. “Doesn’t Own A Toothbrush!” or “Doesn’t Let My Scabs Heal” or “Not A People Person” or “Lacks Personal Hygiene” [ref. to Chris Farley - Motivational Speaker] Which at that point, would have been very true. Unshaven, dirty fingernails, but on the other hand I did have clean, pressed clothes and a sweet hat. I wasn’t yet the decrepit thing that emerged from the overnight VIP bus 18 hours later.

Enough travel for a little while – back to calm, normal, Thailand.

In a few hours time, I should be on my way back to Chiang Mai, by whatever means possible. Hopefully with a 60 day visa, but that is not necessary. Police playing in the coffee house here. Okay, time for some adventure metal. Over the hills and far away will I go.

So apparently the malaria meds that I was taking (Deoxycycline), which apparently I didn’t have to take because Vientiane is not actually a malaria risk area, give me rather horrible sun sensitivity (which I think gets worse the longer you take it – yesterday I could feel myself starting to burn after being in the sun less than a minute). Now I know what it’s like to be a ginger. I mean, I have often wanted to have a mane of golden red hair – I mean ginger affectionately, not pejoratively. But is that glory worth sun being kryptonite? Add that to spending a number of days walking around Vientiane in the sun, leads to a couple of days a bit on the demented side of the brain.

Well, that made Crime and Punishment all the more poignant. I definitely identified with Raskolnikov in a lot of ways (minus the whole murder bit), with my ridiculously hot, dark, stifling room (no AC, no windows to the outside). The general heat of the city. Walking around without having shaved in quite some time, not in quite the level of rags that he wore, but nonetheless generally sloppy dress. Even occasionally feelings of anger directed at the world in general, whether due to my annoyance at not having my plans work out perfectly (always disheartening for me), or just to the quantity and quality of injustice around the world. I don’t understand how he makes the jump to murder from there, but I am sure that his extreme loneliness plays a significant part. It is good to be alone for a little while, so that you can rest and recover, and be thankful for the friends and blessings you have. But to be alone for too long is probably the greatest evil I can think of. Whip me with chains, but please don’t leave me in a hole to rot.

The whole Raskolnikov murder bit could have been avoided (except for it being a novel, and therefore the characters being controlled by the powers of destiny) if he just had a Bro. I don’t mean just some Dude. There are a lot of Dudes around, but not many Bros. Be a Bro!

Okay, well I have forgotten everything else that I was going to write about here, especially after blitzkrieging my blog yesterday (I think I spent over 8 hours in True Coffee, reading and blogging and Bollywood-ing). So let me return to the initial moral. Smile! (I will insert that the Christian response is to trust God and smile, and I feel it is worth reminding my brethren to trust God (because of his faithfulness), which I hope that they do. That said, I am sure that they have heard it many times before, and to appeal to a broader audience, I will focus on the second part, which is smiling. Yet we must not forget why we smile )

Smile! It is the Thai way. It is the Lao way. They use it in greeting, they use it to show embarrassment, they apologize with it, they show amusement with it. And it really does make everything run a little smoother. Not to mention that when you smile, (forgive me if the science is not completely right – and feel free to comment and correct) positive endorphins are released into your brain, actually making you happier. Try it sometime. Right now – just smile for like 20 seconds, and see if your outlook has improved.  Smiling communicates a certain receptiveness, putting others at ease. So smile, be gracious, and relax.

Oh, and enjoy yourself. And your food. Especially if it is fresh croissants in the morning. (I keep going on about these, but this one bakery/cafe. Yum. Near-perfect breakfast. Croissant, Coffee, Fresh Orange Juice, Fresh Fruit, Yogurt, and Water. Add an egg, and it is perfect. The croissants are quite good. As good as true French croissants. I know, because I’ve had good croissants in Paris and Cannes, and these are their equal. Oh, and the cafe is always filled with French people. So there.)

Okay, time to finish writing the Thai alphabet so I can practice on the way back, check out of my guest house, go to the embassy, and smile from there. SabaiDee.

So Wednesday night, the night I arrived, I wondered around the central part of town. In the evening I saw that there was a place for tasting Gong Fu tea ceremonies and Oolong tea tasting. So of course I had to wander in. They were also selling a tea that mixed Lao flowers with Taiwanese (the best) Oolong. It was okay. But, they also had five types of quality, pure Taiwanese oolong (I don’t know why I was capitalizing it) tea: Dong Ding, Baozhong, High Mountain, something good (maybe Jade Peak), and Oriental Beauty. This last one intruiged me (for more than it merely being un-PC). I don’t think I’d actually had tried it before. Dubbed Oriental Beauty by Queen Victoria, it is a mix of red, green, and white tea leaves (they are all from the same tea plant – color has to do with what gets picked and how it is processed) which does look quite beautiful. I am unsure what process they use to achieve this, or if they just mix them, but the overall flavor is good, if a bit bitter, and different enough that of course I had to purchase some. So I got 4.4 oz. For $55. Which is about the price I’d probably pay in the states, so expensive, but the also the first high quality oolong I had seen since I arrived in Asia.

Anyways, while talking to the girls serving tea (they have a really cool wooden tea table, like the one at the tea shop Rival took me to), I asked them where I could go to dance. They referred me to Future, which turned out to be a Karaoke bar, but not the lame kind packed with dull Farang. This was the real, local, Laotian awesomeness. (I must insert that I am currently listening to a ska cover of Hotel California) That made me the only Farang. Well, I guess I wasn’t quite to awesomeness yet. I actually went out the back door (there wasn’t a cover, and while it was interesting, it wasn’t as alive as I’d prefer), and went next door to the Highwayman, which did have a cover, so I thought it must be better. I was thinking “Highwayman” as the poem (Alfred Noyes), or at least the Loreena McKennitt song of that poem, not as some shady figure on the highway.

Walking in, a girl at one of the tables near the bar glanced at me and winked. Nice to be noticed. Wait!… That’s definitely a guy, with lipstick. Why me? Is this a gay bar? Ah, the highwayMAN. And I just paid a cover. Wait, there are some girls walking in, and not the male kind of girl either. Okay, It’d like a BeerLao. First, two digressions. The first is about beer. Lao beer is a bit smoother than Thai beer, generally a sweet lager, though without much flavor. They do have a dark version, which is kind of like an amber, and pretty good. Thai beer (well, Chang) hits you in the face a little bit harder, though not with hops. Singha (the expensiver one - forgive the bad word), is pretty good though. In general, though, they just miss the kind of taste that you get with Seattle beer (or German beer). It is possible to have flavour (British spelling again) without the hops. Try a porter or an amber or a weissbier or a German black beer. Mmmmm.

Of course, there is the Bavarian Purity Law. I came across it reading about Germany. Apparently, it was in effect from 1516 until the 1990s, when it was struck down by the EU. Basically, it states that beer can only have three ingredients: water, barley, and hops. Hence, purity. That doesn’t leave much taste variation. However, it does make a good lager. And they ought to know – they drink 170 liters of beer per year, per capita.

Digression 2. There are a lot of prostitues here in Vientiane, walking the streets or biking by, after dark. What I don’t understand is why all of them look like men dressed up like women. The obvious answer is ‘because they are all men dressed up like women.’ But that doesn’t fit the demand curve. There must be a number of so-called “sex tourists” here from the number of prostitutes, as they solely solicit themselves to Farang (also, they sound like men trying to sound like women). I would expect that a lot of such people would also want female companionship. But that would mean that a number of these prostitutes are women dressed up like men dressed up like women, and women sounding like men trying to sound like women. It just baffles me. So, the moral of the story is, don’t hire a prostitute. You literally have no idea what you’re getting into. I’m sorry if that sounded graphic.

Okay, back to the highwayMAN. Well, I got my beer Lao and headed for a table away from the winker and close to the cute Laotian girls, which happened to also have enough space in it for dancing. After 30 minutes or so of sipping beer and listening to Karaoke, they brought up the DJ, who started some good techno and dance music. The table I sat next to was probably the most lively, and a couple of the girls started kind-of dancing (basically, trying to get the guys at their table to dance, and failing), and then started dancing a bit with each other, but in short spurts. Now I was the only Farang in the place, and the only one sitting by myself, and the only one wearing a Tshirt reading “A Revolution without Dancing…”, and then, all of a sudden. I was the only one dancing. Everyone was staring agape at me.

I’ve been the center of attention before – that’s not new. What is new is being that when no one knows me, when I can’t speak their language, and when I really don’t care. I just want to dance. I kept dancing and dancing, mixing Bollywood, Charleston, Hip-hop, Disco, Michael Jackson (minus the crotch grab), and everything else I knew. I even got some cute looks and smiles, though the rest were a combination of awe, jealousy, amusement, mockery, imitation (for a few seconds, before stopping), and possibly disgust. The DJ really liked it. At least, I think he did – I couldn’t tell for sure anything he said except for Farang! But even with all that, it could have been better. By nature I am a social dancer. I want someone to dance with. Not necessarily in a partner sense. But someone to interact with, communicate with, to play off of. One man dancing at a bus stop is an upsurdity (slang, meaning absurdity), but two men dancing in sync (or dancing to N’Sync) is epic. Bunty solo just doesn’t work. (I am referencing a Bollywood film called Bunty aur Babli, which is kind-of like a Bollywood Bonnie and Clyde, only oh so much better). That said, I really enjoyed just dancing my heart out. And was quite exhausted when I left after doing less than an hour of dancing (that Bollywood stuff is strenuous). Exhausted, but fulfilled. That was one of the most delightful moments of my time here in Laos. Sometimes you just have to dance. Like in that scene in Matrix:Reloaded when Zion all breaks out in dancing and celebration (except for Neo and Trinity. Ahem). The coffee house is playing something with a beat. I am dancing while typing. You cannot stop the dance.

It’s time for a revolution!

P.S. Babli!!!

For penning this epic battle, I have decided to listen to Tarja Turunen – In The Picture.

And eat some toast, with peanut butter. The first time I’ve had peanut butter since being here, I believe. I used to eat it by the spoonful (ask Brett, he’ll tell you). Mmmmmmm. Soooo good. Too bad I had to get it with toast. Not that I dislike toast. I just don’t crave it for dessert in the evenings, or ever, really. Sometimes for breakfast, but that’s about it. And certainly not when you can get GOOD, fresh croissants for breakfast. But I’m getting ahead of myself. In both Chiang Mai and Vientiane, they have interesting notions about what constitutes a good dessert. The first that I ran into, I instantly fell in love with: fruit. Plain fruit. Of course, very fresh fruit – pineapple, or watermelon, or Dr. Seuss pom-poms, or Dragonfruit (Sarah – since you asked, dragonfruit is really just okay, in my book. That said, it does go well with other things in smoothies), or wierder stuff. I definitely prefer the fresh pineapple. But beyond the first week, it started becoming other things, as some Thais are just not into fruit, apparently. (In a related matter, some aren’t into tomatoes. Mee said that vegetables should be green (for instance, they eat morning glory shoots). I responded that tomatoes were fruit. She said she didn’t like fruit!) So, for desserts (plural, to emphasize we have it often – remember, Thais (and Laos) love to eat) we fanned out a bit.

One thing that you can find at many cafes, ice cream parlors (I almost wrote parlour), and milk shops, those being the primary places to get desserts, is toast (on the menu it’s called ‘bread with [insert topping]‘). I don’t understand why they are so into it. Maybe bread is something exotic for them. That said, I don’t see Americans craving rice with raisins and coconut milk (which actually doesn’t sound bad). But then, we have quite the sweet tooth. The other thing is milk products: ice cream, certainly, but also just milk blended with things. Anyhow, I would just rather have fruit. Sooooo good. Except when I’m craving peanut butter. Now for how to satisfy cheese cravings…

Moving on – and slightly more back to on topic – I’m currently sitting in True Coffee, paying to use the internet on their PCs, violating rule #1 of internet security: don’t use internet cafes. I have a plan, however. I have not accessed my gmail account (sorry if I haven’t responded), and after I got on facebook, I reset my password, so this remains the only unsecure piece. So, if links to gibberish or banking sites or any sort of nonsense occurs, don’t follow them! The cafe has a nice atmosphere, which is good, since I have spent a considerable amount of time here today and previously, as well as a fair chunk of change. Much nicer than my guest house, though. Much nicer! And they have a good mix of music – mostly vocal jazz, including some standards (Time after Time is playing currently), some of Miriam’s favorites (I think I heard Jamie Cullum earlier), some Michael Buble, and a jazz rendition of Stairway to Heaven, which was quite good. I’ve been avoiding the sun today, for reasons I will go into on a follow-up post (why I am delirious), and have spent at least 5 hours in here so far today.

My goals for things to do in Vientiane: write (I have two pieces of paper left, which I will fill up tomorrow), blog (I wanted to get a significant amount of thoughts down), read (I wanted to finish Crime and Punishment before getting back to Chiang Mai. I think I’ll get through the end of part two (of six)), run (I haven’t done any running here, though it is a possibility. I have averaged about 10-12 km a day walking, though. I might try a run tomorrow morning, if I am up early enough. The streets are asking for it.), study (I wanted to memorize the Thai alphabet, work on pronunciation, and finish my children’s book of learning to write the letters), relax (I have done LOTS of this. So much so that I’m quite done with it. But today I have forced myself to take it easy, as I travel back (hopefully) tomorrow), and eat (Lao food – I have had Larb, fried frog (Monica would love that one), noodly things, and some really good seafood). The amount of time I have to spend here, and the extreme heat during the day (much more so than Chiang Mai), makes for very long breakfasts/lunches/coffee breaks/dinners. (side note – Stairway to Heaven is playing again. I’ve been here a LONG time) So much time do I have that I have actually, seriously slowed down in my eating. No, really! Claire, I’ll probably still beat you, but really, I’ve slowed down a LOT. Nothing else to do, so you just savour (that time, British spelling) every bite. I don’t know if that will continue de facto, but at least I have the capability to do so.

Okay, on to the VS. (Chiang Mai on left, Vientiane on the right)

1) Breakfast: sticky rice and grilled chicken VS fresh croissants and coffee

Seriously, there is no contest here. In the morning, I really don’t feel like rice and chicken. Nothing really beats the ability to walk less than a block to a French bakery and have really, really good, still warm croissants. And good coffee. If the French did anything right in their occupation of Laos, it was this! Advantage – Vientiane.

2) Sidewalks: nonexistent or filled with carts and things VS actual sidewalks

I really enjoy walking. Really, a LOT! I like that I can walk to a French bakery in the morning. I can’t walk anywhere in Chiang Mai, unless driven there first, which is pointless. Also, running is really dangerous, bordering on stupidity, where there are no sidewalks. Unfortunately, … (Advantage – Vientiane.)

3) Weather: 75 to 90, with about 8 in precipitation VS hotter, more humid, with more precipitation

I love the 80s. More than VH1. Temperatures in the 80s are great, at least at the humidity levels of Chiang Mai. Vientiane, with more heat and humidity, can get unbearable at times. Of course it could be that awful Malaria medicine I have to take apparently gives sun sensitivity… (Advantage – Chiang Mai.)

4) Malaria: No Malaria VS No Malaria

I had looked at the CDC map incorrectly, as it has “Vientiane” listed twice. Once near a red dot, meaning Malaria risk, hence the pills. Again near a blue dot, meaning okay. The one near the blue dot is where I am at, it turns out. The red dot is a different city, that happens to lie around the center of the Vientiane district. So I can stop taking this blasted medicine. It’s turned me freakishly insane. Deoxycycline. It’s worth $5 a day to go for the other stuff. Of course, if I go to Myanmar, I will have to start taking it again. Hmmmm. Advantage – Meh.

5) Cost: 100 baht VS 50000 kip

You might guess that since 50000 is bigger than 100, that living in Vientiane would be more expensive than living in Chiang Mai… And you’d be right! It turns out to be about twice as expensive, if you look at food costs, clothing, and tuk-tuk fares. Massage costs are pretty much the same, though (and they are of similar quality). I am thinking about getting some nice leather shoes here, though. Advantage – Chiang Mai

6) Nightlife: Riverside VS Wind West (think cowboy themed)

Vientiane and Chiang Mai, though they are of roughly the same size, have drastically different nightlife characteristics. I found one decent place in Vientiane to dance at – more on that later. The rest are either built for Farangs to hang out, drink, and fraternize (or play pool). Chiang Mai has places to dance, and good local music, and is hands down better. It could be my lack of familiarity with Vientiane, however. Though from what I hear from others, I doubt it. Advantage: Chiang Mai

7) Animals: Dogs VS Cats

One of the classic debates. Which one is better? I see dogs all over Chiang Mai (as they are all outside dogs), and I see mostly cats hanging out in Vientiane. As I’m sure Sayre would agree, this one doesn’t even need discussion, except for perhaps a reiteration of the superiority of cats. Advantage: Vientiane

Drinks: Coca-Cola VS Pepsi

I like the real thing. Period. Occasionally, I’ll go for a root beer (if I’m feeling reminiscent of childhood) or a moutain dew (if I’m feeling really sinful, or playing halo). But, since before Cail and I went on our mission in ‘99 to have pizza and coke in every country we visited (which we did successfully in Britain (in both England and Scotland), in France, and Italy, but were (albeit unintentionally) deceived in Geneva, Switzerland, where they gave us Pepsi. We realized from the first sip that something was off. It’s just not the same. Not the real thing.), we new that coke was superior in both form and substance. Advantage: Chiang Mai

9) Language: blah blah orange blah blah (Thai) VS blah blah blah blah (Lao)

It really gets me excited when I can recognize a word in a sentence. With the tonality of Thai and my un-grasp of it, I could actually be falsely recognizing it, but still, it gets me excited. Whereas Lao I have no idea. Except once, where the Lao word for ‘black’ was the same as the Thai word for ‘black’. There of course is also Northern Thai spoken in Chiang Mai, and French and Hmong spoken in Vientiane, but as I have no grasp of any of those beyond ‘Merci’, we’ll leave them out of the equation. Others (Genevieve?) might prefer to differ. Advantage: Chiang Mai

10) Work: sit around relaxing VS sit around working

Currently, I am enjoying sitting around blogging. In Chiang Mai, I’d be sitting around recovering from work (actually, I’d be in the gym, recovering from work). Two days from now, after being out of things to blog about, out of pictures to take (that was another on my list of things to do that is well accomplished), out of paper to write on, and with far more itchy stuff on my face, I am sure I would swing the other way. But right now, Advantage: Vientiane

Recap:

Chiang Mai: 5, Vientiane: 4, Draw: 1

Chiang Mai wins.

And so does Liverpool. I watched a bit of football (i.e. soccer) today at True Coffee, and was actually quite intruiged by it. It is such a tactical sport, with no margin of error, and really quite intense. Maybe that’s why I enjoyed playing it so many years ago (minus the running – I did not like that part back then, though I somehow enjoy running now). About 5 minutes to go, 0-0, penalty in the goal box, penalty kick wins the game. So interesting, for once. It’s weird what happens when life slows down. A little side note – that game could have been a recording from three seasons ago, and I wouldn’t have known the difference. Or cared.

It involved being a child and visiting the grave of his baby brother, and seeing a bunch of people whipping and beating a horse to death, foreshadowing his brutal murder a few pages later. (For those of you that didn’t know Raskolnikov was going to kill someone, or that he is a character in Crime and Punishment, which is a novel by Fyodor Dostoevsky, who is one of the great Russian authors, I am sorry for spoiling the plot. But really, isn’t only the first act (of six)). For those of you that know of him only through the Greek electronic band Raskolnikov’s Dream, I have no words.

I am currently reading through Crime and Punishment (the Richard Pevear & Larissa Volokhonsky translation, for those interested (Rachael)), and yesterday I put the bookmark in (which is a bookmark that I got at Daniel (Archie) and Kathryn’s wedding, both of who are avid readers, that lists their favorite novels. I don’t think C&P made the list, but on the list I can recall Lord of the Rings, Great Divorce, Autobiography of Malcom X, Animal Farm, and a number of others to make ten.) right after I read that line: “Raskolnikov had a terrible dream.”

Then I laid on my bed with the light on (it was about five in the evening), and fell asleep. I don’t remember all that I dreamt, or what I dreamt then, and what I dreamt later that night (after I had finished the rest of part one), but allow me to sum up. Firstly, I was at some sort of club. I could tell because the lights were generally low, though there were flashes of the likeness of strobe lights, with green and red lasers floating around, and I’m pretty sure Shahrukh Khan was there with his shirt unbuttoned getting splashed in the chest with a bucketfull of water (NO, it wasn’t one of THOSE dreams), or at least dancing. But my attention wasn’t on him, exactly. I was wearing either (or alternating between) black jeans, Irish cap, and red Che Guevara T-shirt; and black button-down shirt with some sort of slacks. I was there talking with one of the leading ladies from Don (the one that tries to Seduce Don (Shahrukh Khan) at the beginning, and winds up dead). I can’t recall her name at the moment – the one that to my eyes looks very Persian. Anyhow, we were discussing whether Khan sings all his own stuff or lip-syncs to someone else singing. I don’t think we ever came to a conclusion, except “It’s Shahrukh Khan!” (i.e. of course he does all his own stuff. He’s Fred Astaire, only not) Okay, wikipedia tells me it’s Kareena Kapoor.

Speaking of Bollywood music, my walking pace in Vientiane alternates between Maahi Ve (when I am walking normally), Dhoom Again (when I am walking briskly), and Dhadak Dhadak (when I feel that I have heard the other two far too often in my mind). Whatever pace I am walking at, my brain starts resonating at that beat, and pretty soon I am walking while singing and dancing in my mind. I just haven’t gotten enough dancing in here. Except once – and that deserves its own post.

Back to dreaming, and dancing, for that matter. I am now outside in the grass, with some people I don’t know – Farang. Trying to convince any of them to dance with me. So I start dancing Bollywood style (which in my dreams is pretty fantastic – even more fantastic that reality, if you can imagine that. It might not be possible for a lot of people – I had a wild imagination). And soon one of the girls there asks me to dance. So we dance, and we’re on a wooden (bamboo, I think) bridge, a bit on the shaky side, and then I wake up. Then it’s 3:00 am (“what did you hope to learn about here?”). More dreaming – this time I’m by my parent’s church. An old man selling swords is there – giant, fantastic swords of epicness! And I overhear two men saying they plan to take two swords and leave with them, by force, if necessary. I’m in the shop, so I also grab a sword to fend them off with. It turns into real combat. I miss the second one, taking off the head of the first one. Then I grab the sword of the second one with my off hand (I think I have a giant flamberge or something in my right), but it has snakelike blades writhing off the end, which stab me. Then he slashes me. I don’t remember if I got a killing blow on him, but I’m definitely a goner. I’m awake again. But not for long. Soon, some solid sleep hits me and I awake later the next morning (this morning).

No fever, no chills, no sickness at all. Just some wierd, feverish dreams. More on that fun later. So much to write – I’m going to have to buy more time… If this blasted Internet will ever work! Success! Now for some youtube (Crazy Kiya Re). Goodnight, and sweet dreams…

I’m not exactly sure why I chose that particular title. I didn’t exactly experience either of them – it sounds a bit melodramatic to my ears. (I did have a couple of interesting experiences, however.)

Anyhow, I am currently in Laos, where I will hopefully be for the remainder of today (Sunday – it’s about tea time, which for you heathens and those unaware of Unix commands, is 4:00 pm), and part of tomorrow. The intial plan was that I was to arrive back in Chiang Mai, Thailand at eight in the morning yesterday, following a 12 hour overnight “VIP” bus. The VIP basically meanst that you get a reasonably sized seat, there is a toilet on the bus, and you don’t stop every few minutes to let more passengers on. At least that was my experience on the journey to Vientiane (capital of Laos). And I had every intention of going back the same way on came, leaving Friday via the VIP ticket I had purchased before leaving. As I said, that was the initial plan. Oh the glory of non-transferrable tickets!

The current plan is to leave Laos tomorrow, once I get my visa and passport back (I applied for 60 days, so I don’t have to do another visa run). Oh yes, that’s the reason for my being here in Laos. That and adventure. Well, adventure certainly found me, though the visa is taking its time. I did not come prepared in any way to get a visa, as I have never actually gotten a visa before (at least with any participation of my own), and I thought it was fairly straightforward. With a little foresight, it would have been.

On the way here, the VIP train has its final stop at Udonthani, which is about two hours from Vientiane. If I had a Lao visa, I could have bought a direct bus ticket from there for 80 Baht ($3). Fully prepared to get one at the border, I had a tuk-tuk take me to the main bus station, where I caught a regional bus to Nongkhai, the city directly across the border from Laos. Basically, the Mekong river (7th longest in Asia) separates them, and you take a bus across the Friendship Bridge to get to Laos. All good so far, except that I had no idea what stop was actually Nongkhai, though the kind Indian man behind me helped me out. Then I got blitzkrieged at the Nongkhai station. The indian guy, who I should’ve listened to, was telling me to buy a bus ticket to get to the Laos border, the tuk-tuk driver (who you should never trust) told me that I couldn’t go there directly by bus (a half-truth) but that he could take me to the border and go across, the Indian guy saying that it would cost 2000 Baht with the tuk-tuk driver, and the tuk-tuk driver saying it would cost 50 Baht. Well, I had decided to go with the Indian guy until I got up to the counter and the lady who was selling tickets started spouting off things in Thai, because of my passport and lack of Lao visa. I took that to mean that I couldn’t get a bus ticket, so I went with the tuk-tuk.

In retrospect, it seems that she was just saying that if I took the bus without a visa, the bus wouldn’t wait for me to pass customs and I would get left at the border. Which would have been perfect, actually. I could have gone straight there, gotten my journey approved, and hired a tuk-tuk to take me to town (for probably 100 Baht). It would have been MUCH faster, too. But I got freaked out and went with the tuk-tuk driver, who drove me off for 50 Baht (his mannerisms, notably smiling and waving triumphantly to his comrades, spoke volumes to the likelihood that I was getting ripped off). On the way, he asked if I had photos for the visa application, which I admitted I didn’t, so he took a ‘detour’ to a ‘photo shop’, which ended up being his final destination.

On arrival, I saw a mass of Farang (white people), most notably Irish (from both parts) and Australian. That was assurance enough that I had made the wrong decision, but the Lord told me to do the Thai thing: i.e. smile. and relax. Turned out to be the best piece of advice I got that day. So, while everyone else was running around, or looking frantic, I sat there smiling and actually enjoying myself, and didn’t mind too much when I ended up having to pay 2000 Baht for services. (It turns out, that I only had to pay about 650 Baht ($18) for services, which included transport to the border, filling out my paperwork, photos, and transport to Vientiane.) Plus, I got to sit around drinking probably the best coffee I’ve had thus far (tasted like Greek coffee, except without the sludge. Good Stuff! Gave the serving boy 10 Baht for that one. He’s going to be a good con artist when he grows up, that one.) while everyone (almost everyone) else was a bit edgy. The Dutch guy (Dutch people are from Holland, yes? Netherlands, if you want to be more technical. Though, he was from Holland.) next to me reminded me with a smile that everyone needs to make a living.

Well, I was good. It was certainly taking a while, but I was not worse for wear by this point. Then more waiting. Got through the border after a little bit of paperwork, and had an amusing chat with a Canadian who is selling his house on Vancouver island to move to Thailand (he is married to a Thai and has a small son, who I also met). Basically, you hand in your paperwork at the window, you wait a predetermined amount of time (while the stack of passports/applications just sits there), and then they stamp them all in rapid succession and give them back. Terribly annoying and inefficient to a Westerner. Anyhow, he told me that I would not be able to get 30 days at the Laos border (which was the whole reason I went to Laos – at Myanmar you can only get 15 days). More panic. Smile! So I would need to go to the embassy and apply there. Maybe that was supposed to be the plan all along for me going here, but I didn’t know that.

He railed against the corruption in the Thai system, but then admitted to having a fairly open wallet when it came time to get things done. For instance, if you want to get somewhere fast, you take the 100 Baht toll lane. Basically, if you stay in the fast lane too long, police will periodically pull you over. If you want to keep going, just pay a 100 Baht “fine” and you’re on your way. It’s always 100 Baht. His wife being Thai, he said that she can do a lot more than that. If they are waiting in a long line to register for something, or to be seen at a doctor’s office, she just goes up, talks to the right people, and suddenly there are at the front of the queue. In and Out.

Maybe it was in light of that ability that he was planning to the embassy that day, apply for and get a long-term visa, and return to Thailand the same day. This thinking must have clouded my judgment, because somehow I got it in my mind that it would only a little while for processing. I was thinking that it would be like getting a stamp at the border. You would wait in line, then you would go up, give them your passport, proof that you have money to spend, and they would either stamp it right then, or they would set it in a pile, where it would sit for a period of time, and then they would stamp it. Well, it turns out that ‘period of time’ is 24 hours. Unless you’re Thai or willing to bribe them, or both (then they place your application on the other pile, and stamp it that day). I was neither, so I had to wait.

I brief note of chronology here. The embassy is open 8:30-12:30 in the morning, and 1:00-3:00 in the afternoon. The morning is for accepting visa applications, and the afternoon is for returning them.  I arrived in Laos around 1:00 pm on Wednesday, so I had to go the next day. Not knowing how the embassy works (the U.S. consulate that I visited said that for most countries they are open 8:00-4:00), I tried to find it later on Thursday. The fact that I would have been to late to apply doesn’t matter, because I didn’t even find the embassy. Because it had moved. And apparently, I had bought an old map, with several inaccuracies and several liberties taken. It had never led me wrong before (to my knowledge).

So, the next morning, quite early, I had breakfast at a Scandinavian bakery, (I think I got photos the day before), and hired a tuk-tuk to take me to the embassy (or consulate, whichever is the one I wanted – they seem to be interchangable in speech), for 40,000 kip (the currency of Laos). Very colorful, with 500 kip being the lowest denomination I have seen. It’s about 9000 kip to the dollar. I kind of feel like I’m playing with Monopoly money. And the markets are very confusing, because they selling things in dollars, baht, and kip. It’s hard to keep them straight. But I digress. More digressions on other posts (I still have 90 minutes left in my internet) – here I’m trying to give a little historical update.

Waited. More Waiting. Hey, you want visa application paperwork? 20000 kip. Smile. Okay. Yes, I have photographs. So, she goes and fills it out. More waiting. I’m not actually in the embassy yet – just at a little lean-to across the street, huddled with about 20 other people to avoid the rain. They finally open the gate and let us in. You go, grab a number, wait. They call you, you go up, give them your documents. They shuttle you to the next room, where you wait. There is a large stack of visa applications now piling up. Okay, you have waited long enough. Stamp, Stamp, … In quick succession, all of the applications are cleared for processing (whatever that means), and you go up and get your receipt: Please come back tomorrow between 13:00 and 15:00. Oh, and by tomorrow, we mean Monday, after the weekend.

Which is tomorrow. I have no tickets bought or anything ready for beyond that. Just sitting and smiling. There were several other times when smiling and relaxing has done wonders. Thanks God. Anyhow, hopefully I’ll get my visa back tomorrow, approved for the full 60 days. If it doesn’t, then I’m going to hurry to the airport and get on the first plane to Bangkok – if I come in by air, I get an automatic 30 days, which will only require that I take a short trip to Myanmar. If I get the visa, then I’ll be on a bus direct to Udonthani (possible only with a visa), followed by an adventure to get back to Chiang Mai. If my visa gets delayed, then oh well, I guess I’ll stay a little longer in Laos.

Moral of the story: Smile.

A little postscript. In reading over the post I completely lost sight of what I was trying to convey, and started expounding all the wrong things, leaving you with a *yawn* (I really did just yawn) long, boring history of the last few days without any funny quips or quirky rabbit trails, or even a clear exposition of why the moral. Clearly, my brain is not functioning well today. But I needed to get that out. Time for some coffee or toast or something to get my brain going, and then I’ll be back penning away. Maybe it’ll actually be interesting this time.

PPS sorry