La Kohn!!

“Wow. Just… Wow.” These words were all I could utter right after waving goodbye to my family, friends, and boss to check my luggage at the Vientiane airport (which is what they called it. I would call it a quaint office building with a small plane attached that the sons of Orville Wright probably handmade). Though obviously profound, these were not the words I had imagined two months before that I would say under my breath while searching for my passport, about to leave Laos. I also hadn’t imagined my host mother crying or my host father hugging me tightly while advising me to take care, succeed, and stop losing things. I would “lose” clothes, toiletries, medicine while in the house and ask everyone to search their drawers for the things, only to find them moments later right under my nose. Well, everything except my cell phone, watch, and favorite mechanical pen, which hopefully someone in the village is enjoying using right now. And my Paw would always say the same thing: “next week we’re buying super glue, for two reasons. One, to fix your two pairs of sandals that broke, and two, to glue all of your belongings to your body.” So on the day I left Vientiane, I finally bought the glue, ironically a two-for-one deal for 5,000 kip (55 cents) and gave one to my family. I guess on May 20, while boarding my flight to Laos, I thought I would come away with a checklist of feelings. Accomplished, enthused, changed, empowered, moved. All of those buzzwords that service programs use for advertising. I DID feel changed, moved, etc., but I had skipped over the biggest one, the fact that I was humbled almost to embarrassment. These months were not full of me-help-you activities and benefactor-beneficiary relationships, but rather personal and emotional growth, sharing of quirky habits, and scolding when the other did not listen carefully enough.

This past week was a blur. I took the 1.5 hour bus ride to Vientiane on Wednesday to receive non-existent mail (thanks, Boss) and pick up little diplomas for my top 20 students, only to find that I needed to write the last names of the children on the diplomas. So I decided, instead of typing their names, to write their Lao names (with English transliteration) with a ballpoint pen. When I got back to Ban Phao, I tried to jump this hurdle. But do you know how hard it is to say in fractured Lao “My boss wants me to write last names on diplomas. Does everyone have a last name? What is little Endah’s last name? No, I will not write that your last name is Poop. What is that boy’s name over there? Yes, the Asian one with black hair.”? It’s hard. On graduation day, Friday, my boss (and my new coworkers) came to Ban Phao. The coworkers are quite nice (re: the week before, Sunday night), yet my boss was hopping mad to see that her seal was on fake diplomas WITHOUT LAST NAMES!!! The horror! How to make it up to her? The principal invited us all to his house to drink BeerLao and eat rambutan after the ceremony. So Lao. Which brings me to my next segment, titled Top Ten Reasons Why Ban Phao is “So Lao”

The first three are in comparison to my habits.

1. Many people know that, as a Thomason, I can, and will, eat whenever, wherever, whatever. Which incurred a problem in the village, not because they are lacking food, but because everyone shares the same food, family style. No one has their own plate or cup. It’s a free-for-all. At the Thomason home, it is ALSO a free-for-all. But that means eat as fast as you can so that Steven won’t take the seconds and the thirds again. Eating quickly has no benefit at home in Laos, because everyone takes their time, and there is no “finish your plate.”

2. I have a reputation of running late. Not horribly late, but enough for people to notice. I have noticed this about the Lao people as well. “Meet you at 6:00pm” means “I’ll walk to your house once I’m done feeding the ducks and herding the cows,” and more relevant to me, “School starts at 8:00 sharp” means “Come to school about an hour and a half after you wake up. If you had a rough morning, make it 2 hours.”

3. Though I run late, I have a habit of becoming impatient. Hypocritical, I know, but I’m working on it. And have had to work on it A TON here. Because that is probably the worst thing someone could do, to harp on someone else for being late. It’s a way of life.

4. When it rains too much, people do nothing but sleep.

5. When it’s too hot and sunny, people do nothing but sleep.

6. After work there is a daily ritual every man in the village must follow. Go to the store, buy 2 big bottles of BeerLao, and drink them with friends.

7. The cows chill out in the middle of the road, even when a car is speeding towards them. It is a game of “Chicken”, and the cow always wins.

8. Waterbuffalo, with huge, sharp horns and the ability to trample anything in their path, walk beside you with disinterest, and you walk by him in a likewise manner. I know if I saw one anywhere else, I would freak out and call the police ASAP.

9. They abbreviate everything, but not like in the US, where people do it to be trendy. They do it because it gives them more time to not speak, aka rest and do nothing.

10. The #1 thing to do on a Saturday night, whether you are 15 or 50: sit in a circle, drink BeerLao, and, well, just be.


Thursday was the day I got to go to the big Buddhist temple, and I was able to talk to the #1 monk, who wanted to practice his English. He showed me countless pictures of him at the birthplace, death place, and tree of Buddha in India. I even got his cell phone number. This is the equivalent of getting the governor’s cell phone number. Needless to say, my entire family was ecstatic to see the bracelet on my wrist, a cool symbol that people all around the world are kind. On Saturday morning they hosted a thank-you-good-luck ceremony for me, which a student named Zachary at UMass, who lived with the family for about a week last summer, came to. It was cool to talk to him, because although his accent was terribly different than mine, at that day we knew enough about each other, and we were able to share in the knowledge and understanding that only those who have an experience like we have had can. It was full of people and smiles, with many pictures, and I even sang a little.

Sunday, the day of departure, we toured Vientiane. I didn’t realize until looking at other villages on the way to the big VTE that Ban Phao is interesting. Though fairly big, no one knows about it. There is nothing extremely special about it. Except its name. As a review, “Ban” means “village” in English. To get from Ban Phao to Vientiane, you have to go through cities with creative names such as Ban AlotofPeople and Ban Km. 36, which incidentally is 36 km from Vientiane. The village extends for exactly 1km, hence, the name. But Ban Phao means “village of the coconuts.” On the first day of school I wrote this on the board and told the students to write and memorize their village name in English, and then asked about the history of the name. They then said, word-for-word, none of which I understood “Stupid Westerner, it’s because our village is full of coconuts.” After asking them to repeat those words 20 times, writing them down, then frantically looking in my $9 dictionary/phrasebook, I understood. For the first week, much of my free time was spent looking around the village, especially for this multitude of coconut trees. And though I am not extremely knowledgeable about the difference between coconut trees and other trees, I did not see many coconuts. During the second week, I asked one student to show me this abundance of coconut, or “Phao” trees, to which she responded with hysterical laughter and much pointing. You see, Ban Phao has exactly 2 coconut trees, which produce exactly 2 coconuts each. It must be named for the same reason why Greenland was named; to confuse foreigners into thinking there is plenty when there is in fact very few. But I enjoy the village nonetheless, with its stubborn cows and easygoing people.

During the day (my flight was at night), we did the Lao version of a US history tour. The Prime Minister’s Mansion (White House), the big expensive structure (Empire State Building), the victory Arc (Statue of Liberty), and the Peace Gong (Liberty Bell). Leaving, though sad, was hopeful, with telephone numbers in hand. Maybe I will be able to go back sometime in the future. Either way, the people won’t be forgotten. Wow.

Now at an airport in Detroit, I see around me: 1 Starbucks, 1 Caribou coffee. People in clothes too tight for them. 3 wide-screen TVs. One-third of us typing frantically on our laptops. Another third talking/yelling on their cell phones. And the last third listening to their I-Pod in one ear, talking to a friend via webcam, and texting another on their BlackBerry.

So American.

Dii, Sua, Baw Ngaam

This week (from July 5-12) has been up, down, and all around, full of Dii, Sua, Baw Ngaam (the good, the bad, and the ugly). I have been quite busy preparing for my last week, so this week will just be a list and less of a story; once I get home, the last e-mail will cover in more detail this past week as well.
Good: Saw an elephant, got a partial tan, had more fun teaching, touched a camel, went to Buddha Park (pix to come) and saw awesome statues; ate 6 cent icecream (half off at school), made friends and went out with some people, got to go running, I'm now able to read Lao (equivalent to an 8-year-old).
Bad: The elephant was far away, didn't get to ride it because we went late in the day, got sunburned (and rained on A LOT), lost phone numbers of the friends I made, and my "mom" wouldn't let me run far because she was scared I would be too tired.
Ugly: The teachers just pick random classes for me to teach, instead of giving me a schedule; the pictures and diplomas here are QUITE expensive because they are all expensive, which means I don't have enough money in my budget for EVERYTHING I want, people now get mad when I make a mistake, since I should know better (aka when I stepped over a peice of food; it is AWFUL to do that because feet are so dirty/ritually and religously unclean.
More to come soon, Hope life is grand!!!!!!!!!!
-Will

Moo Lai

These past 2 weeks have gone by quickly, (though admittedly some of the days went by slowly), and the Lao word to describe these weeks either means "alot of friends" or "alot of pigs," depending on which tone you use (I mix up these tones often). I have come in contact with people who know about North Carolina, and have even lived there, and I even came across a UNC grad! It’s comforting to know that these people know where I’m coming from and share in some of my excitement, while understanding my frustrations.

The week of June 21-27 was largely uneventful, except for key events which helped both me and the community understand each other better. On that Tuesday, it rained, and because we are in monsoon season right now, when it rains, IT POURS, to the point where we have to yell to understand each other, and constant leakage into my room. And when it pours, no one does anything. One of my newfound friends has coined the term “so Lao” to refer to anything that had Lao tendencies, aka laid back, even lazy at times. And the tradition of doing nothing when it rains is so Lao. I barely had any students that day, but for those who came, we had a "meu muan," a fun day. As a treat, the majority of the day was spent doing the three things they ALWAYS want to do: sing, color, and talk quickly in Lao to me, expecting me to understand every word. That is the curse of finally being able to pick up the basics of the language; if I ask a somewhat complicated question, I am given a response that is 10 times faster and more complicated. Even worse, I can’t fake it, because there is no Lao word for yes. Instead, they respond by repeating the verb. For instance, if I say “Will you go to school?” They say “Go.” So when trying to understand others, I simply pick one of the words they said, hope it’s a verb, and either get a smile or laughter (the majority of the time).

That week I also bought my first Lao music video DVD (they don’t have CD players, just DVD), not because I necessarily enjoy the music, but because every morning after the rooster crows at 5:15, the music is turned on, which can be heard from about a 90-foot radius. And it is the same music, every day. I “generously” let them use my DVD to mix things up, because if I had heard the Lao girl sing about her lovely hairless boyfriend one more time, I might have had to break something. Local ice cream was another first time for me, because before I had gotten the packaged stuff. But this ice cream, probably made from rice like everything else, had a bitter taste, and for 1000 kip (12 cents) I could get 2 scoops. Expensive, I know.

Last weekend was packed with research. I forgot to mention, but I edited the English and gave input on the structure of a bilingual Lao-English children’s book that SEDA is sponsoring and distributing, and met with some people to finalize the words, pictures, and design. I also contacted representatives from Room to Read, started by the Microsoft CEO. These people are the ones who set up the Library which I gladly organized. Their goal is to encourage the locals to write, edit, translate, produce, and distribute books to students, as well as hiring locals to teach English, but the English is not correct, with an uninteresting, sporadic storyline. I found that the HR director graduated from UNC, and because I did not have her direct e-mail, I did the next best thing – I Facebooked her. Hopefully, we can improve this program to distribute better, more correctly written books.

This week school started, which I was unaware of until 8am on Wednesday, when I came in my checkered-shorts, only to find everyone in white uniforms and black slacks/skirts. I had a hunch when the first two days they had seemingly random people running around at the school, preparing for the school year. I was sent to the principal’s office to sleep (what they would gladly do for the majority of the day, and talk about often), but, itching to do something, opened a closet to find heaps of old, torn, unorganized books, papers, and other materials. So without asking, I organized the closet as well. This took 2 days, considering book repair and trying to find which book had a picture of a pig on page 27, because that was the first page of the torn book I would be holding. With that out of the way, I was ready to start teaching again. The government decided last week to start school on July 1 this year because Vientiane is hosting the SouthEast Asia (SEA) Games, a mini-Olympics, in December. Everyone is pumped, because this is the first time they have hosted it, and it hopefully can be a boost to the economy, which is one of the lowest in all of Asia. I have found this frustrating, because after making leaps and bounds with my summer students during the first 5 weeks, I had to start all over with “Repeat: ‘What is your name?’” and counting from one to ten. Now I have structure classes, teaching 2 classes of older students in the morning (supposedly from 8-9:45 and 10:15-11:30, but actually from 8:15-9:40 and 10:30-11:30… so Lao) and one class of younger students, from 1:30-3:30, with a break in between. This schedule was settled yesterday. From 5-7pm I teach my cousin (Mom’s sister’s daughter), not because I want to, but because she was brought to the house at 5, and my mom said “teach.”

While going on the bus (aka pick-up truck with a bench) to Vientiane yesterday, I met a foreigner from Australia who does Eco-work in a government building near my village, through a program similar to the Peace Corps. After talking for a while, she invited me to her and her friends’ house; we ate pizza, and discussed everything from Australian football to the Lao language. I was invited to a July 4th/housewarming/birthday/I-just-want-to-party party tonight, which should be exciting. I think I’ll go over to the American Ambassador’s Residence today – apparently he is having an open house for people with an American passport. Hopefully I can get in without a personal invite!

Hope everyone is tanning, cooking out, and preparing for fireworks today!

Stayin’ busy (and hot),

Will