Hello World!




Jen & Joe in the Sonoran Desert, Arizona

 Hello world!
When last we met, Jen and I were bidding adieu to Laos and all of the wonderful people and places we experienced in that peaceful and beautiful Southeast Asian country. We returned to the US at the end of June, relocating back to our base in lovely New Mexico, and have spent the last six months regrouping for our next international adventure. Well, that new and exciting foray to the literal “ends of the Earth” begins in less than a month, so we figured it was high time to fire up this blog…

Wherearetheherrins is back!



Canadian geese at Bosque del Apache, New Mexico



Looking back, 2010 has been a very eventful year for us, but let it suffice to say we are looking forward to 2011 with tremendous anticipation and excitement. We love our corner of the southwestern United States, and we try to take advantage of its wonders when we are here (see photos of Bosque del Apache on the Rio Grande in central New Mexico and the Sonoran desert outside Tucson, Arizona), but nothing gets our blood pumping like a new challenge and a new adventure in a new corner of the globe. Today, Christmas is in our rearview mirror, the New Year is directly ahead of us, and we are psyched, baby! In my journeys, I have been to every continent except one – and we are moving our traveling roadshow to that very continent in exactly 4 weeks…

Let’s get ready to rumble!!! (Hmmm…how do I say that in Spanish?)


Goodbye, Lao

Our Lao adventure has come to an end.

Tomorrow we’ll get on a plane in Vientiane, fly to Bangkok where we’ll overnite, then fly Saturday morning to Tokyo, Salt Lake City and finally, Albuquerque. A long, long trip.

I really hate goodbyes, but they are inevitable when you have 65 students who are losing their teacher in the middle of the semester. The past couple of days, Jen has gone with me up to the university in Dong Dok to be the official photographer documenting the "final classes". Lots of photo ops, gifts, songs, speeches…

I love my students, but I hate goodbyes.

But it’s goodbye to Lao. Ten months in the calmest, friendliest, hottest country we’ve ever lived in. Goodbye to eating in restaurants twice a day (farewell, sticky rice!), to gliding monks swathed in orange, to packs of howling dogs, to five people on a motorbike, to gorgeous flame-colored trees and graceful palms and rice paddies, to bouncing along in tuk-tuks and songthaews crammed with fifteen people…

Goodbye to the gang of neighborhood tuk-tuk drivers we’ve come to know. Schumann (so-named because he repairs shoes when he’s not driving), Chiclets, Mittens, Bon Jovi…
We gifted Schumann with a ton of good stuff this week (including some pairs of shoes). He must think we’re crazy to be giving him sacks of clothes and kitchen goods.

Goodbye to sweating gallons every day and to worshipping air-conditioners. Goodbye to dust and dirt and fumes and giant ants falling from trees. Finally, goodbye to Beer Lao – I’m really going to miss you!

It’s been a good ten months for us. We experienced Lao culture and Lao people and have been greatly enriched by them. We saw some beautiful sights and ate great food and stayed relatively healthy.

I’m going to try not to freak out when I get back to the States. Laos, even living here in the capital city, is incredibly understimulating in terms of Western-style “excitement”. Outside of an occasional festival, little ever “happens”. There is no shopping mall. There is no movie theater. People drive slowly. There is no road rage. People don’t act out in public. My God, I’m going to miss the complete lack of public aggression and bad behavior. Time to steel myself for the inevitable return to “Western values” and the accompanying stress levels. Sigh.

And so, goodbye, Lao.

Our own backyard

It's "high time" that I produce another entry for this blog! Joe has been doing more trainings at the US Embassy and at the National University. The teachers are always responsive to his style and get a big kick out of practicing the teaching techniques with each other. His last week is coming up in which his students will be giving presentations; they are all looking forward to that.

Joe and I were recently treated with a visit from one of my friends (some of you know her!), Krissy. She is volunteering in Thailand for the summer and took a break to see the sights in Laos. Her first stop was Vientiane where we spent two days seeing as much as we could: Patuxay (a tall cement structure that has stairs to a birds eye view of the capital), Talat Sao (the morning market), and our favorite restaurants Joma and Makphet. We squeezed in some temples too: Wat Sisangvone, Wat Phonxaysetthathirath (really!) , That Luang, and Wat Ha Phra Keo. It was a sweaty endeavor, but we managed to keep hydrated and even shop silk weavings till we found the most beautiful one in town which will be hanging on Krissy's living room wall later this summer :)

Unfortunately, Joe was laid up with a badly banged ankle; he slipped getting out of the tuk-tuk on the way to work, and a tender part of his ankle met metal with force. A lot of greenish blusish swelling came out of it, but we don't think it's broken as it has been improving. That being said, he was off the hook for the aforemtnetioned intense trekking excursion.

It's great to have visitors so that you can see the sights! Although Joe and I have seen many together, sometimes the ones right under your nose go unnoticed because they are so familiar. Everywhere we went, in classic Lao style, the people were very friendly. The monks at the temples practiced their English with us, the kids posed for pictures, the vendors smiled at us even when we didn't buy anything, and the sun occasionally cooperated by going behind a cloud (or was it the clouds that covered the sun?). Thank you Krissy for getting me out and about to see some new things, taste some new fruits, find new ATMs, and for teaching me more about Buddhism all in my own backyard!

Reunited . . .

. . . and it feels so good! Yes, I'm back in Laos again with my 'muzh' (that's husband in Russian). I don't think I ever mentioned how many people I run into in Laos who know Russian . . . most of them studied in the former Soviet Union. Laos had tight connections with the Soviets and the Russians still maintain an active embassy here that has it's own Russian school. Just the other day I was attending one of Joe's workshops; after chatting with the Lao counterpart from the US Embassy, I found that he had studied Russian. I whipped out my language book and he started reading the cyrillic out loud. He admitted that it had been a while since he had used it.

So, I made it back to Laos without a glitch except that the first leg of my flight from Dnipropetrovsk to Vienna was canceled when I got to the airport. Apparently, the "owner of the airport refuses to let Austrian Air land on his airstrip due to political reasons" according to an Austrian Airlines representative. So, after quickly downing a Kwell's (motion sickness pill), I boarded a mini-bus for Zaparozhye, the place I had visited with the students and teachers the weekend before. After quick goodbyes to my new friends Irina and Natalie, the mini-bus kicked into gear to shuttle to the airport where the flight was really taking off from. I had some good conversation with my bus companions, engineers from Washington, DC who were contracting the manufacture of rockets in Dnipropetrovsk (DP). DP had been completely closed until only 15 years ago due to it's nuclear, weapons, and space research and manufacture. Now the US Government contractors are getting much of their design and assembly done here due to the long-standing Ukrainian expertise and low prices. The guys I met were manufacturing rockets to be sent to repair space shuttles (you scientists out there, please correct me if I got that wrong!). Anyhow, it was interesting to hear about something totally foreign to my usual topics of conversation.

Now back in Laos, where Beer Lao is the most successful product manufactured, we are still waiting for the big rains. We are due to go back to the US in less than a month, and as it always happens, the "signs" are starting to pop up that our stay is coming to an end: our favorite restaurant, Vong's, has mysteriously closed a day after raising their prices, someone helped themselves to our bicycles that were sitting on our front porch one Sunday afternoon, my Russian conversation partner has gone back to Uzbekistan for the summer, the fan in our house exploded, and the aircondioner keeps flipping the breaker because it's too hot outside. But the upside is that we got tickets on the same dates on the same flights which is a whole other drawn out story! AND . . . my friend Krissy is coming in a couple of weeks to do some volunteer teaching. I hope to go on a photographic mission with her to get an album of parting shots of Laos.  In the meantime, we are trying to sort, donate, and organize the stuff we're taking back home. It's amazing what you can collect in less than a year!

Monsoon? What Monsoon?

In this part of the world, the monsoon rains mean everything. This is an agrarian culture, and the seasonal rains provide the sustenance for the rice crop and everything else that renews life in Laos . I'm not scientist enough to play the global warming card in this instance, but the monsoon is late this year, the heat is oppressive, and people are suffering from it.

It has been over 100 degrees pretty much every day for weeks and weeks. It's hotter than hell with no respite. I was talking to one of my students this week about the situation.We were sitting outside and chatting before class at 7:50 in the morning...I was mopping my face like Brother Love after a Salvation Show, and beads of sweat stood out on Bounleuam's forehead.

"My parent are farmers. It's terrible for them. Without rain there is nothing."

I can only imagine. Working in a rice field or herding buffalo, I'd be clinically dead in 90 minutes, tops. The humidity climbs each day without any corresponding drop in temperature. Han lai...freaking hot, dude.

Today it rained a bit in the afternoon and when I went down the street to eat dinner this evening, it was sprinkling gently, and the air was remarkably cool and fresh.
Hallelujah! I was taking in huge gulps of air and waving my arms joyfully - it felt wonderful.

The monsoon is not here yet because we haven't had a kickass, barnburning, streetflooding storm yet - not even close. I ask the locals, "When is it going to start raining?"

"June", they muse.

"July, maybe".

I really hope it's tomorrow.

How I passed “Feis control”

 

 

 

Feis kontrol: a Russian klub colloquialism of the English words "face control." Your "face" is your level of wealth, beauty, power, social standing, and overall desirability. Feis kontrol is the power of the velvet rope, originally referring to the surly bouncers at the most exclusive Moscow klubs. It can literally refer to club door personnel, or it can be used figuratively to refer to some ideal social arbiter. (http://www.urbandictionary.com/)

 

From Laos to Ukraine is a pretty big jump . . . and although I’ve been here before, I find that the leap from the mellow land of smiles to the fast-paced oblasts of growing consumerism . . . well, “a leap”. Don’t get me wrong, it is great to be able to be here in Dnipropetrovsk (what some call Ukraine's second city next to Kyiv), go into a cosmetics store, supermarket, or clothing store and buy what you want (or at least approximately). Ironically, I am teaching university economics and management students – we are watching Michael Moore’s “Capitalism – A Love Story” as part of the course. In the three years since I’ve been here, I think Ukraine’s own love affair has become more passionate. Frequenting the 2 new-fangled malls, McDonald's, and "ahem" nightclubs is everpopular. The upside is that customer service has really improved, the post office has an English option on the automated take-a-number machine, the pizza restaurant is entirely non-smoking, and public drinking has been banned in the city center.

 

 

I’m here working on teacher development and content-based instruction at a university, but due to May holidays, I’ve been able to get out a lot. I have to admit that the teachers and students have seen to it that every moment of my time is spoken for. In the last 2 1/2 weeks I think I have done more than during any entire year of my life. It could be that my “little” Russian is going a “long” way. People open up to me, help me, and take care of me. I am amazed. For instance, I have:

 

• played tennis
• gone to the gym
• been to the art museum (where an elderly woman who worked there talked my ear off for 40 minutes before opening time - all in Russian!) and two galleries
• played air hockey (how did that fun a game ever go out of fashion?)
• taken a ride on a paddle boat (or a “pedal” boat)
• been on two walking tours (even one at 5:30 in the morning back to my dorm room)
• played Russian billiards (very small pockets!)
• gone bowling
• spent time at a "dacha" (country home)
• played basketball ("horse" - remember that one?)
• played chess (the 12-year-old kicked my butt twice)
• been ice skating (only fell once and it wasn't my fault)
• given food to a beggar
• had visitors from Kyiv take the 6 hour train ride to see me
• sketched in the park
• purchased collections of old Soviet movies (I love them!)
• seen a concert at the Philharmonic Theater (the conductor was something to see)
• had Russian lessons
• gotten locked out of my dorm room
• been stopped by the police (I’m sure it’s because I looked like a Lithuanian/Slovak Unabomber in my red hooded jacket and dark glasses)
• seen a guy sprayed with mace get arrested outside my window
• shot a BB gun
• eaten cotton candy
• bought a jacket with a fur collar (I didn’t realize it till after I paid; It dawned on me to ask the woman if the collar was real . . . she said, “Da, krolik (rabbit)” – I looked disappointed – she chuckled and said, “You greenpeace?” – I said, “Da”).
• been to a disco (oh yeah, I guess they are called “night clubs” now)

 

Which brings me to my story about getting into the club, or as much as I hate to say it: face control. They say you should "face" your fears . . . confront them. I guess I should be happy that I immediately passed "age control", i.e. they agreed I was over 18. When Katia (my friend from Kyiv) and I approached the door last Saturday night, the bouncer told us that we couldn't enter as we had worn "krossovki", a.k.a. tennis shoes. I could see that most women who were being allowed the privilege of entering were wearing metallic spandex and spiked heels; our striped Adidas were a giveaway that we hadn't thought ahead. So, as the students who had accompanied us all were "approved", Katia and I headed back to my "dorm room" to change into two pairs of "teacher shoes" (hey, it's all I had!). My brown pair was a roomy fit for Katia, but we wanted to get into this darn club and show them who's boss.

 

We taxied back to the club where our friends were waiting for us. The bouncer decided that the entrance was now closed to women. What the $%@*#!? Aren't nightclubs eager to get as many broads in the door as possible. Hey, Katia is like 21 or something - let her and her "mom" in, would you? So, needless to say, some spindle-y waifs traipsed to the "velvet rope" and were allowed admittance. Time to practice your Russian Jen: Pachemu? (Why?) Ya dumala shto eta vhod bila zakrita dlya devushki? (I thought this entrance was closed to women?) . . . no response, just an effort to fix his view somewhere in the distance to denote surliness as per the urbandictionary definition. Our exasperated friends phoned to the "inside". Contact was made with . . . behold a student who had been at my Friday workshop was a cocktail waitress . . . her chair had collapsed during the seminar and I had helped her back up. Yes - she was our ticket! Ina then called her contact: Mr. Security Man who somehow contacted the thugs at the "rope" and suddenly a heavily accented voice said: You are welcome. After I got over my fit of "that's not fair" . . . I enjoyed a bit of dancing, talking, and drinking a magically appearing free drink from Ina. Thanks Ina for getting me in and allowing me to announce that: I passed "Feis control"!

The B-Word

To a teacher, or to any creative person or performer (and I would put “teacher” in that category), the most dreaded word, when applied to your work, is “boring”. When Jen and I taught in Indonesia many years ago, the privileged rich kids we had as students had been allowed to get into the habit of spitting out the word “boring” whenever something didn’t suit them. Well, a few whacks with a bamboo rod fixed that problem (just kidding - it wasn’t like we were in Singapore!). Ever since then, I am loathe to use that word in connection with my own life, and I try never to describe myself as being “bored”.

Well, as we have shared our experiences here in Vientiane, I think we’ve managed to convey the peaceful, slow-paced, easy-going nature of the place and its people. Therein lies its charm and attractiveness to someone seeking a life of tranquility. Once you’ve settled in, seen the sights, and established a workaday routine, however, this town probably ranks in the lower percentiles on the urban “thrill-o-meter”, the occasional festival notwithstanding. This is not a problem as long as I am accompanied by my trusty sidekick, Jennie, who, as some of you may be aware, is a one-woman action sequence of non-stop chills, spills, and thrills. Boring, this girl ain’t.

Eleven days ago, I said a tearful (OK, I didn’t really cry) good-bye to my mitad de naranja at Vientiane’s Wattay Airport. Jennifer had places to go, things to do, and people to see in the former Soviet Union (watch for the next installment on this blog: Jen Does Dnipropetrovsk!) Almost immediately, a feeling of ennui began to seep into my consciousness. According to Wikipedia, ennui can be defined as “general lack of interest…it may also refer to oppressive boredom”. Within hours, I was wandering around our apartment talking to myself. It’s a good thing I’m a scintillating conversationalist.

I don’t want to beat this buffalo too hard, but suffice it to say that the excitement level in my day to day life has taken a precipitous drop. When before I looked forward to going out to dinner every night, now it’s just too much trouble to put on some clothes and walk down the street. I have started eating scrambled eggs and tunafish rather than dine out alone. I’m spending hours in front of the A/C reading detective novels (did I ever mention how hot it is here?). I’ve watched several crappy movies (sorry Clive Owen, but you suck). It’s just kind of b*ring going through the ol’ daily routines without a fun & funny partner to share them with.

However, as the disco diva once sang, I will survive. I am compensating by exercising more and eating less, resulting in a svelter (“It’s sveltering in here! Turn on the fan!”) profile. I’m spending less money on restaurants. I’m catching up on my correspondence (slowly). So "it’s all good", as they say. This Skype thing is very cool. I get to have conversations with my girlie frequently (I can see her, but she can’t see me, haha). I’m not sad or lonely. Things are just a little, you know...the b-word.

Sabaidee Pi Mai Lao!

"Happy Lao New Year"! The Lao calendar puts new year celebrations on April 14, 15, and 16 this year . . . with the festivities spilling over into the weekend. We went back to Luang Prabang in the northern part of Laos (Joe had given workshops up there in November). Luang Prabang is famous for their "Pi Mai" madness . . . which involves a whole lotta water!

We arrived on the 10th so everything seemed pretty normal on the town front - morning fruit and veg market, evening craft market, French colonial architecture, manicures, pedicures, massages, happy Lao people, and a few tourists. On the 11th, we decided to head for a deluxe resort just outside the town for a relaxing day at the pool (Lao water experience #1 - heretoforth to be blogged as LWE). It was a beautiful setting with jungle plants all around. We were able to get there for free by hitching a ride with the sister resort's shuttle bus in town. However, we had to shell down about 7 bucks each for the actual pool privilege.

Our second LWE was on the 12th - we paid the 17 bucks to hire a "song teuw" - kinda like a big tuk-tuk to take us to the Kouangsi waterfall, wait for us, then bring us back. The scenery was pretty, but very smoky, on the 30 km ride. This time of year is prime time for burning debris for some reason. On the way we saw the coolest looking water buffalo - pink! I guess they were albinos . . . I would've loved to take a picture of them standing in the midst of their more traditional-looking buddies. However, we just marveled from our vehicle.

The waterfall was amazing with pool after pool of water safe for swimming. It was lovely and a little less hot due to the jungle canopy. Also, near the waterfall was a bear sanctuary - which my friend Melissa in England told us about! There were numerous, active, rescued Asiatic Black Bears that all seemed pretty comfortable in their Australian-sponsored compounds. Too bad we couldn't pet them :)

LWE #3 started on the 13th, when at 1pm locals started placing large plastic tubs near the side of the road and filling them with water. No one was spared. If you just wanted to walk down to the Internet cafe - splash-ola they got you! It was especially cute when the little kids tried to do it  . . . . so we just walked by them really slowly to be intentional easy targets. They were thrilled when they got a "falang" - and we were pleasantly cooled off! Joe's students had told him that the kids are told that they must ask before they pour water on "older people". We were happy to see that no one asked our permission!

LWE #4 - Well the 14th was really the radical first day when all the giant plastic water guns came out - not to mention so did all the tourists. International tourists as well as local villagers made their way to this little town to take place in the most creative and peaceful water fights ever (it was the "falang" who occasionally resorted to squirting directly in the face, heckling each other, and eventually using the f-word loudly in public . . . it's hard being one of them sometimes!). The water works started early - so the camera was left in the guest house along with the cell phone and anything that couldn't get soaked. Truckloads of teenagers playing loud music went round and round the city loaded with huge tubs of water, bowls for "flinging" the water at those on the sides of the street and at each other. Those standing on the street, also playing loud music, fought right back scooping and flinging at the passing vehicles. Tuk tuk drivers seemed to be the most fun as it often caused their carburetors to get wet, their vehicles to die, and the people to swarm and "dump" buckets of water on driver and anyone in the back!

LWE #5 - We escaped in our soaking clothes to sit on a short wall near the Mekong - which ironically is way lower than usual due to drought right now. A family of 4 villagers walked over and sat a bit further down the wall. Joe and I were slurping from our big bottle of mineral water. They smiled at us - we smiled at them - their kids were very cute. Then out of nowhere the man started talking to me . . . asking me something . . . pointing at our bottle of water . . . then pointing to his little boy. I said, "OK - here you go." How could we deny them a drink or two. Well, after the bottle made its way round the family unit - I indicated the he could keep it. He smiled, said Kup Chai, tipped the bottle down, and started filling his water gun.

Our flight was scheduled for 1 pm which was to be the time of the grand parade with the winner of Miss Luang Prabang riding "an animal" - at least that's what I was told. However, the melee was a bit too crazy for us and we decided not to postpone our departure. We got back to Vientiane where we had LWE #6 and #7  - revelers here splashed our taxi from the side of the road and then later nailed Joe hard as he left the house to buy some . . . water.

The reason all this water is a part of the celebration is because 1. In the buddhist religion water blesses you bringing long life and peace, 2. It's frickin' hot outside, 3. The new year marks the end of the dry season and the coming of the monsoons. So, like clockwork, last night we had a big rain storm, lightning, and thunder. LWE #8.

When You're Hot, You're Hot!

Hot.
Real hot.
How hot?
“Hotter than snake shit on the desert floor”, my friend used to say.

More like being inside a pizza oven when the crust is burning.

We are in the tongue-lolling dog days of Lao summer, which comes with startling speed right at the tail end of Lao winter (Lao spring? No existe, amigo!). North Americans and Europeans would be surprised to learn that March and April are the hottest months in these tropical regions around 10-15 degrees latitude. We have had several weeks of flirtation with the 100 degree Fahrenheit mark and have recently crashed straight through it. Sunday, it was 103 with a heat index of 113. A sudden and violent thunder storm that night had me thinking that maybe the temperatures were going to slacken…it was back to 100 on Monday - but with more humidity!

We have lived in the tropics before and I normally tolerate it quite well, but this place is really freakin’ hot. I taught my normal Tuesday class this morning at 8:00 AM. I was boiling with sweat at the outset, mopping my face like Louis Armstrong, and by 8:15 had soaked my t-shirt, short-sleeve shirt, and trousers all the way through. My students, worried about me, went and fetched me ice water. Bless ‘em.

I don’t think I mentioned the case of prickly heat I came down with last September when it was only 95 degrees with 80% humidity (Lao autumn!). Yes, folks. Prickly heat is real, and it sucks wildly. Having learned my lesson, I never go anywhere without my umbrella, and I take at least two showers a day (unfortunately, “cold” water this time of year, you could make Cup o’ Soup with). Thank God we have air-conditioners and fans in every room of the house.

Now if we could only keep the electricity from going out every day! Yikes!

You Got Me Floatin'

Last weekend we got invited to a friend's birthday bash. He's a Canadian gent whose wife is Uzbeki. He is, apparently, the "condom king" of Laos. His company manufactures and distributes millions of condoms in an attempt to encourage safe sex practices amongst the locals. There were about 40 guests at the party and everyone received a nice box of condoms as a party favor. Whoopee!

The party was held mid-afternoon on a barge/restaurant floating down the scenic Nam Ngum River north of Vientiane. The riverside restaurant complex was huge, with large groups of mostly Lao people either dining on terra firma or opting to do the float 'n' eat thang. We all assembled aboard the barge, watched the feast being laid out on the long low table, and when everything was ready, shoved off down the river.

The food was great (even though we had already eaten and ended up just nibbling), and I broke one of my rules by consuming alcoholic beverages before 6 PM. Sipping a glass of Beer Lao seemed appropriate to the occasion somehow. Maybe it was the realization that karaoke was just around the proverbial bend! Yes, it was a karaoke boat and soon the Abba, Journey, and especially Bryan Adams was ablastin' (did I mention the birthday boy was Canadian?). After a few glasses of beer, I felt compelled to grab the mike when I heard some strains of Always Something There to Remind Me come thru the speakers (does everyone know how much I love Burt Bacharach?).

We floated downstream for a couple of hours, turned around and motored back. It was fun. I wish I had been hungrier 'cause the food was really tasty. I wish I hadn't had so many glasses of beer 'cause I was ready for bed at 6:30. Oh, we met some really nice people who gave us a ride out to the gig. The guy is a retired Mountie - talk about a serious Canadian!

Dusty Roads

Dusty Roads was a name read at the end of each church service back when I was a kid (and a churchgoer). It was read from a long list of names of those we needed to pray for. The name was intriguing. Now, I find I can actually weave it into one of our blog entries about our trip down to The South. So "Dusty Roads" (not sure if that was the spelling) . . . here's to you!

Last weekend Joe and I traveled to Pakse in the very Southern Province of Champasak. The reason I say "traveled" was that it was a combination of taxi, plane, and car. The Pakse airport is closed for construction, so we took a plane to Savannakhet. A driver met us there and drove us the 3-4 hours to Pakse. The drive was pleasant . . . much dry territory, numerous farm animals leisurely walking alongside and occasionally into and across the paved road. Dogs, chickens, pigs, goats, cows, calves, water buffalo  and their calves . . . it seemed to be baby season. Luckily, all that came into harm's way were spared - thank goodness for slow and careful Lao drivers! The landscape was very dusty with plains that might make you  think of Africa a common sight as we neared Pakse.

Upon arrival, we ate at a restaurant called "Pizza Boy". The most memorable thing about our experience was not the pizza, but a gigantic centipede that ran under a nearby table causing two western tourists to spring from their chairs. Not thinking about the potential poison factor, I jumped into photojournalism mode and snapped a pic. You can just barely tell by comparing him/her to the table legs that he/she was about a foot long. No joke! One of the restaurant workers took matters into his hands and whacked it with a broom, breaking it in two. Only one half continued to flip around long after we finished our meal.

Joe's workshops were a hit in spite of the heat that ensued after lunch. Temperatures reached about 100 degrees that day, so heading to the market to take photos lasted only about 30 minutes for me. I ended up spending the rest of the afternoon in the deluxe new Chinese hotel enjoying the A/C. A highlight was a side trip to Wat Phou an ancient Hindu temple - unique to this area. It was hot there too and involved a long bumpy dust-inducing car ride on an unpaved road and a wait for what looked like a home-made car ferry - however, the adventure was well worth it! Looking at the photos afterwards reminded us how exotic it truly was.

The next day we were driven back to Savannakhet where we were to catch the plane back to Vientiane. We decided to stay a night and check out the town. Awfully hard to do, again, when it is so hot. However, at dusk and the next morning at dawn, we meandered around the town checking out the remains of the French Colonial architechture. It is a crumbly town, but with so much potential. Hopefully, one day the government will help rennovate some of the buildings and facilities to make it the next Luang Prabang. But for now, the infrastructure of hotels and restaurants is pretty much non-existant. We did however make it to the Dinosaur Museum with a very enthusiastic guide who took us to the back room where some finds were still encased in dirt and dust - still needing to be cleaned up for display.

Ummm...What Do You Plan on Doing with That Handkerchief?

Every culture, every society has its taboos. There are also behaviors that, while not rising to the level of taboo, could be considered violations of basic societal norms or maybe just poor form. When we lived in Indonesia, any intimate contact, like kissing, was strictly forbidden in public or in the media. (Oddly, any gross verbal obscenity was perfectly all right, as long as it was in English). In Bulgaria, polite people just did not talk about Gypsies (Roma), or even acknowledge their presence. One day in Ukraine, I started absentmindedly whistling a tune to myself (Do You Know the Way to San Jose?) when the person next to me whirled, horror etched on her face. It wasn't bacharachophobia. I learned you cannot whistle indoors without incurring the certainty of losing every kopeck of your hard earned money. In my own country, I guess it’s pretty much anything goes – with the exception of running for public office as an avowed atheist, or expressing remorse over becoming a parent.

Here in Laos, people have their own “dos and don’ts”. Here is a partial list:

DO
eat anything that moves
take off your shoes when entering a home
use any excuse to have a holiday or a party
smile, laugh, and say “sabaidee” a lot
ride an entire family of 5 on a motorbike
eat all day and stay skinny
wear high top sneakers with a long skirt
listen to the same half-dozen songs over and over for months (years)

DON’T

act angry or aggressive in public
ever touch a monk if you’re female
ever touch a female if you’re a monk
blow your nose in public
stay out past 11:00 PM
hug or kiss in public
use your car’s horn excessively
hold your head higher than the Buddha
touch someone’s head (unless you’re a hair stylist)

As you can see, it’s pretty easy to live within the limits of society, provided you’re not a bellicose, sex-crazed, night owl with a bad head cold.

I'm in the Army Now . . .

  . . . or so to speak. I have been working with Lao army English teachers for the last month teaching a special short course. The group of 15 is composed of teachers from the Southern Province of Champasak, the Northern Provinces of Luang Prabang and Xianghoang, and Vientiane Province. They are a wonderful group that we (4 other teachers and I) are teaching intensively in order to help them improve their English and at the same time teach them something about English language methodology. It is a challenge, but a welcome one as I love working with international teachers :)

Although they are at different levels of English language proficiency, one in particular is quite low, they have all improved. I showed them how to use verb "flashcards" and a present tense "boardgame" last week, most of them never having played a board game before. They were thrilled and eager to know where I bought the ABC, 123, and phonetic sound flashcards I also showed them. I had actually picked them up at Target for 99 cents per pack. Unfortunately, items like that are very hard to find here - Vietnam and Thailand are much better places to go. However, most of these teachers live in rural areas, don't have email, don't have computers, don't have CD players, don't have books for the students, don't have photocopy machines, and teach up to 55 students in a class. Some academies don't even have textbooks for the teachers!

One of the benefits of this course, funded by the Australian Army, is that each academy (4 are represented in the class) will get a CD player, a textbook series designed for Australian immigrants, accompanying CDs, and a set of all the materials we 5 teachers have given them over the 4 weeks.

Next week will be our last week. I can already see that they are responding to the "communicative language teaching" that we have been demonstrating. A few have come to me at the break and said things like: "I don't want my classes to be boring - I want to wake up the students! My teaching will be different when I get back; my students will be surprised!" This is what we want to hear from teachers that come from a system of education in which the English instructor stands at the board, writes down lots of words, and the students pretend to copy all of them . . . all the while speaking Lao (teacher and students).

The teachers did mini-demo lessons last week in which I saw them use gestures, their voice, the board, and props and walk around the room to make sure "we students" were on task. And all the while the instructions and feed back to "us students" was in English. I wish the course could go on, but Friday will be the day when they go back to their respective provinces and try out their new "teaching chops". I will miss them.

"Are You Now, or Have You Ever Been, a Calm-munist?"

Jen and I have lived in three different countries that were, at one time, located “behind the Iron Curtain” - communist/socialist states that were identified in no uncertain terms as “the enemy” in the Cold War of my youth, right up to the fall of the Berlin Wall and the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. Bulgaria, Slovenia, and the former Soviet republic, now independent nation, of Ukraine all share certain similar characteristics that identify them as former socialist states. Suffice it to say that vestiges of the former system make up a recognizable part of the current “capitalist” versions.

It is really fascinating to us that, given the years we’ve spent in the former communist world, we are now living in an actual “communist country”, one of only five remaining in the world (China, Vietnam, Cuba, and North Korea being the other four). It’s fascinating because it’s so hard to jibe the rhetoric and propaganda of the Cold War and Vietnam era with the reality that surrounds us here. Outside the ubiquitous “hammer and sickle” banners of the Lao People’s Revolutionary Party, it’s hard to discern any of what Cold Warriors might see as “communist” activity in these environs.

There is very little police or military presence here in the capital, outside of a few guys in uniform lazing about in traffic boxes at roundabouts. We haven’t seen or heard a parade yet featuring political posturing, shows of military might, or Young Pioneers marching in step with photos of Lenin or Marx. The boss at my school has a picture of Lenin on his wall, but I think he’s forgotten it’s there. The last time I saw him was at a cocktail party sipping red wine with a bunch of Americans. There is a bookstore downtown where you can buy communist swag, but business seems a little slow. I haven’t heard a single political utterance from a Lao person in six months, outside of a strong admiration for President Obama.

What we do have, however, are flags. The Party has distributed red and yellow hammer and sickle banners to every business in town – they are everywhere. They are generally flown with the more sedate Lao national flag and decorate banks, hotels, restaurants, girlie bars, repair shops, you name it. It is a reminder that Laos is a one-party state — only members of the Lao People’s Revolutionary Party are allowed to contest “elections”.

Laos is very much a Buddhist country. Buddhism is the belief system that instructs the behavior of the Lao people. After the Communists came to power in 1975, half-hearted attempts at establishing collective farms were rebuffed by the populace. This is not Cambodia, or even Vietnam. I’ve coined the term “calm-munism” to describe the social/political system we have here in Lao.

BTW, in a June memorandum, President Obama wrote, “I hereby determine that the Lao People’s Democratic Republic has ceased to be a Marxist-Leninist country.” The memo includes a reference to the US Export-Import Bank’s definition of Marxist economies. Only North Korea and Cuba remain on the list of true “communist countries”.

Coping with the past

UXO stands for "unexploded ordnance" - in other words, "unexploded bomb". Between 1964 and 1973, over 260 MILLION cluster bombs were dropped on Laos making it the most bombed country in the world. At the time, only two-thirds of the bombs exploded.

"US bombers dropped more ordnance on Laos in this period than was dropped during the whole of the second world war." (from an article in The Guardian, 2008). To fight against communism and North Vietnam, the U.S. recruited the ethnic Hmong tribe here in Laos. They trained them, paid them, and provided military weapons to them. I found this picture on the web of some of the "boy soldiers" who were enlisted. (source: http://www.everestinfo.org/laos2/index.php?page=Boy_Soldiers)

About 350,000 people died in this "Secret War" that not many Americans knew about at the time or recognize now.

Today, the bombs are still haunting people.  Over 13,000 people have been killed or maimed by working in the fields or searching for scrap metal. Many of the victims are young boys who fall prey to the "bomblets"  - about the size of a tennis balls - also known as "bombies."

I have to say, it was a real education for me to go to the Visitor Center at COPE.(Cooperative Orthotic and Prosthetic Enterprise), an organization that provides prosthetic arms and legs to Lao people in need. At the little museum at the visitor center, I was amazed at the number of cluster bombs that had been dropped on Laos.  The museum had pieces of the shell casings with the "U.S.A." label still intact. They also showed how nowadays, the poverty-stricken people of the villages collect whatever scrap metal they can to sell and/or make things out of. In their searches, they often discover bombs that inadvertantly explode if they are dropped or hit against something. One video showed an interview with a village couple who had lost their little boy who, along with his friends, had picked up some unexploded bombs and banged them together. It was a heart-wrenching story as they explained how he had not died right away. They couldn't get him oxygen or blood in time to save him.

Other children and adults have lost legs and/or arms. There was one man who lost both arms and an eye who now speaks to educate the youth about the dangers of discovering the bombs. The t-shirt he's wearing in this photo is quite ironic. The COPE organization accepts donations to provide new limbs and rehabilitation for these people. Fifty dollars can buy a new leg, so that's what my family will be getting for Valentine's Day: donations made in their names in increments of $50. Here's the organization's website: http://www.copelaos.org/. They make it really easy to donate via PayPal - and they have a great website.

The Visitor Center also showed actual samples of things the villagers still make out of the bomb casings they find: flower planters, kitchen utensils, roofs, sidings, tools, and even make-shift artificial legs. Talk about ironic . . .

So, our stay at the museum was enlightening and intense. I felt strong emotion and still do when I think about the whole situation.

P.S. Here's another good website to learn more about this topic: http://www.legaciesofwar.org/node/113

Nero, Caligula,...Rascal?

My friend Paul, a bright gent with impeccable taste, was admiring our blog recently. “I’d love to have a blog, but Jeez, it seems like so much work to keep it up!” he said (a rough paraphrase). I assured him that it was a breeze for me because Jen does most of the work. She and I more or less split the writing, and she is responsible for 95% of the photographs and the layout. No sweat!

You’re probably wondering where this is going. Well, as a matter of fact, I just don’t have time to write much this week, but it happens to be my turn to contribute an entry, so I’m hacking out a couple of paragraphs so the blog stays "fresh" (insert smiley face). After coming back from vacation, I started back to work at the Faculty of Education and have been swamped with (shudder) paperwork. Mid-term exams were put off until January this semester, so I have had to create, then administer, and then grade 64 examinations. I know what you're thinking...
“Call a waaaaambulance!”

I’m not complaining, I’m explaining (insert another smiley face). In addition, my exhaustive, multi-paged report to the "bigwigs" was due last week instead of the end of the month as I had somehow dreamed.

So that’s my story. As for lovely Jen, she went back to work today. She likes it.

Oh. There have been a series of uproarious canine orgies (the kind all but stamped out in America) on our block this week that rival anything seen in ancient Rome. The main culprit is a rakish mutt we call “Rascal” who sports a little doggie beard to go with his devil-may-care attitude, and his…

Jeez (slaps forehead)! I could have written the whole damn entry about this!

The things we do for fun . . .

Well the new year is upon us. Joe has already started teaching again, and I'll be back at work in little over a week. But "fun" is a big part of Lao culture, and although there aren't any of the conventional "fun places" for westerners to go to: fast food restaurants (no McDonald's, KFC, etc.), malls, movie theaters (OK, there is one and it shows only movies in Thai or dubbed into Thai or Lao), not even a supermarket. What is an expat to do? Well, I'll run through a couple of the things that I do for fun . . .

There are two great coffee shops with delicious French-style pastries (I never get tired of them!). They even have big green salads too - yes, no problem eating them. One of the cafes is Canadian-run and the other Swedish. The Greek Salad (baw sai pak bua - without onions) is my favorite. And of course, there is the Aussie-managed pub in town that hosts the quiz nights on which Joe led our team to victory two months in a row. The next one will be the 30th of this month.

I have also found a German and English woman who love to dabble in art . . . we met at a gallery to see a watercolor show once. After talking with the gallery manager - a very nice Lao gentleman who speaks great English - we agreed to hold painting sessions once a week. It's not a class, but we all just "do our own thing". I will post pictures of the wonderful traditional Lao building/gallery that we paint "under" - yes, it's cool and pretty much mosquito free. Local artists breeze in and out of the gallery during our sessions and usually stop to give us a tip, a thumbs up, or a smile. Art supplies are very limited here, so I was able to pick up some mediums while in Thailand. Sabine, the German artist, is in Australia now and just emailed us to ask if we needed more stuff. I, of course, thought of more ways she could weigh down her check in luggage!

And . . . as I will be going to Ukraine this spring (yay!), I have to practice my Russian skills. I'll be spending a month in a city where almost everyone speaks it. Through a lot of trial and error - I posted a sign, and bugged my international friends - I have found a great conversation partner from Uzbekistan. We do a 50/50 exchange in English for 30 minutes and Russian for 30 minutes. I think we may be on similar levels "linguistically", so it works out great. She has a 6-year-old daughter that is intrigued with our arrangement and chimes in with her bits of Russian and English to help us out :) My homework assignment is to watch "Madagascar" in Russian. I am looking forward to that! Really - I think cartoons are magic language learning tools . . . all over the world I have met so many kids who speak great English with hardly any accent. I ask: Did you learn English in school? and they answer: Oh no! I learned English from the Cartoon Network! So, I'm giving the old Language through Cartoons methodology a go.

Hmmm.... other fun - well we can get almost any movie or TV show on DVD here. So we have finished the lastest season of Dexter (yes, Season 4) and Curb Your Enthusiasm (yes, Season 6). Now we are making our way through the very first season of Columbo. Gosh - TV was so great in the 70's. Not only are the outfits amazing and colorful, but the actors are really interesting to watch. I'm totally serious. So we are kind of in a time warp these days.

Oh, yes, there is the exercise challenge. How can you work out when it is so hot and humid? Well, you can get up at the crack of dawn - about 6am these days - and walk for an hour. And you can do exercise DVDs - thank god for the DVD player! Mom sent me my resistance bands, I found weights in Chinatown here, and I brought my DVDs from home. There is a gym about a 10 minute bike ride from here, but with no AC (or not the kind of gym AC I like!). So, hey, our electric bill may be high, but we can turn up the AC to an obscene degree if we want to.

OK - can we call this the rambling blog entry? I could go on and tell you what fun "cleaning day" is - but I gotta go mop downstairs - this is what we get for opting out of the expat tradition of getting a maid.