As soon as we arrived at our resort last night, I dashed into the darkness and waded in the East China Sea. I let the water splash over my Chacos for a few minutes before heading back to our room to unpack. What is it about the salty air, the pounding surf, the spongy wet sand that trumps all the frustrations and little annoyances in life?
This morning, Tony and I enjoyed an early breakfast outside, overlooking the ridiculously long pool and the crashing waves of the sea, followed by a walk up the beach. We sauntered for about an hour, trying to decide which sand we preferred: the hard wet sand where the cold water doused our feet and legs, the mushy aerated sand that gave way under each step, or the dry powdery sand that worked our toes and calves. Mmmm … can’t decide. I love every inch of the beach.
During our walk, we encountered these round basket-boats. We watched two fishermen drag their basket-boats down the beach and into the water, where they each stood precariously on a little platform inside the boat and used an oar to paddle. They bobbed on the waves for a bit, eventually anchoring and tossing their nets.
“We totally need one of those for our lake house,” Tony said. Then we had a good laugh picturing ourselves paddling around Lake Orion, Michigan, in our basket-boat. We figured we’d be too stupid to work the thing, so it would just spin around like the teacup ride at Disney.
It’s a little overcast, but the temperature is perfect.
The water here is colder than Thailand but warmer than New Jersey. Nice on your legs, but I’m not sure I’ll immerse my whole body. That’s why God made swimming pools. We stepped off the beach and right up to our hotel’s pool. They even have a little coconut-shell scoop for washing sand off your feet.
I can’t believe I forgot to blog about this recent energy workshop! It took place on the same day that our high school girls won the basketball championship and my Lao friend Johnny got married. So I guess my brain was full. Anyway, here it is.
The workshop took place in my village at Healing Mudras and was led by visiting energy guru, Guy, who lives in Chiang Mai, Thailand. It alternated between uber-cheesy and nice. We did an awkward group dance to get the energy flowing, and the owner of Healing Mudras offered some fluffy words about our power to transform the world with energy.
But then we made an energy ball, which I loved. I’ve done this before in yoga. You sit on the floor and inhale your arms up with your hands facing each other. Visualize a big ball of energy pulsating against your hands. It really works! Sometimes I like to squeeze the energy ball and imagine all the energy dripping down over my whole body.
We also participated in a group meditation: First, some of us sat in a circle while people took turns hovering their hands above our heads. I really tried to absorb their energy, but the only person who really zapped me was my friend Whetu. I honestly felt a heavy warm vibe when she energized me. Cool. Next, I joined the standing circle and returned the favor to those sitting down. I hope I didn’t kill the collective buzz when I paused to snap some photos.
Here’s a link to Guy’s website – Lanna Yoga, where he posted a video from the energy workshop.
Energy duck duck goose.
I skipped out of the workshop early to watch the girls’ basketball championship game. I gave the team my energy ball, which clearly gave them to boost they needed to win the game!
Floral shirts, silver pots of perfumed water, marigold garlands, mounds of sand, wet hair and a general spirit of excitement can only mean one thing here in Vientiane: Pii Mai Lao!
Lao New Year takes places April 14-16, and the celebrations are just getting started. Friday was our last day of school before a two-week vacation, so we held a special Pii Mai assembly. First, children strung garlands of marigolds and frangipani, the Lao national flower. Primary and secondary kids worked together with the assistance of Lao staff members.
That’s Tony in the blue shirt helping them thread needles.
Then secondary students explained the legend behind some of the Pii Mai traditions, followed by a skit about the annual Miss Pii Mai contest and a water blessing ceremony.
The flower-clad crowd.
The Miss Pii Mai skit.
One of the “contestants” played this beautiful Lao xylophone.
The water blessing.
We sat in a row, and a group of students knelt in front of us, taking turns pouring perfumed water full of flower petals on our hands. We poured a little water back on their shoulders to return the blessing. Beautiful!
I was honored to be one of the teachers chosen for the blessing ceremony. My friend Eric and I commiserated about how we must be pretty special to get selected. Ha! Turns out they picked us to represent the departing staff. (Unfortunately I hadn’t told my students yet that Tony and I are moving to India, so some of the kids were quite confused and thought I was leaving that day.)
After the water blessing demonstration, classes met to bless their teachers. This is one of my favorite experiences of the school year in Laos. The children offer such heartfelt appreciation for their teachers. Very touching.
Water plays a big role in the Pii Mai holiday, so people inevitably get wet (whether they want to or not). In that spirit, our assembly wrapped up with water games on the soccer field.
Other random shots from the day…
Earlier in the day, the Early Years classes (3- and 4-years-old) had made these sand stupas.
Detail from the flower arrangement hanging over the entrance to the assembly.
Tony and me. Yes, he got a new shirt so we didn’t have to look like twinkies in orange again. (See last year’s blog post for a good laugh.)
Carol prepares for her advisory class blessings. (The secondary kids were not nearly as respectful and gentle with the water as the little kids were.)
Pa is a lovely guy who works in the PE department.
I don’t know this little girl, but she’s stinkin’ cute.
Nikki, Carol and me.
Want to know more?
The Lao American Coalition in San Diego has a nice website with a summary of the Pii Mai legend. My blog post from last year’s assembly also includes details about the Pii Mai traditions.
I’ve been a bit hard up for quality teaching materials here in Laos. Fortunately, I have crates of stuff collected over the years: flashcards, games, activities, books, posters, learning centers, and so on. The problem – and it’s a common one at international schools – is that teachers move on and take all their loot with them. When Tony and I head to India next year, I will leave behind a nearly naked English as an Additional Language classroom. With that in mind, my principal recently picked up a few toys and games at the closest thing we have to a department store, Home Ideal.
My favorite new toy is ABC Domino. Although its name implies a single domino, it actually includes many rough-cut wooden people-shaped dominos, each with one letter of the English alphabet sloppily stenciled on its belly. Young students will enjoy setting up the dominos to spell simple words before toppling them over. But more importantly, I get a big kick out of the packaging. Made in China, the toy features the complicated Chinglish that kept us smiling for four years in Shanghai.
All of the superfluous capital letters and random punctuation are true to the original:
The world how many people want to create a world record, even fake a more beautiful and better quality of enjoyment. You try it out, let the Body show Come, let Art Exhibition Now you and your friends in front of us, so we feel that the United States is more than good!
So what is the goal of this game? Isn’t it obvious? It’s all about ABILITY, apparently:
Educational purposes: to foster the children’s hands and the ability to organize and coordinate the ability to enhance your baby’s ability to think and develop your baby a cool head, good psychological quality, persistent determination; all babies to have a domino effect emotional awareness.
OK, I’m sold! However, children learning the English language need very clear instructions for playing a new game. Good thing ABC Domino comes with an explanation.
Games: Let the baby in a box appearance, is through with the building blocks of the place, arranged and combined with the role of outside force formed under a different shape; arbitrary overturned a wood chip, all the wood all collapsed; can also let your baby Arbitrary who fight and give full play to your baby’s imagination.
How can a child NOT learn English with a toy like this? The box says it all: “Let your baby in the game understand the English alphabetical.”
As I sat at my dining room table one recent evening, a flurry of activity outside the window caught my eye. Thousands of mayflies swarmed around the exterior light, and a huge gecko skittered across the window frame for the smorgasbord. I took some photos and videos from inside, but Tony insisted I would get better shots if I ventured outdoors.
I opened the kitchen door to find another mayfly mob swirling around the carport light. Many little geckos vied for the treats while trying to avoid their oversized cannibalistic cousin. Wearing flip-flops, I tentatively walked into our dark backyard to shoot the dining room window action. When something wet touched my leg, I froze momentarily but then soldiered on.
As I approached the window, I spotted several more massive geckos, which are incredibly cool but more than a little intimidating. (Lao people believe that if one bites you, it won’t let go until there’s thunder. You have to go to a doctor to get it removed.) Sitting under the window was a toad as big as my head, and a variety of other reptilian and amphibian visitors paraded toward the mayfly buffet.
I am not too proud to admit that I beat a hasty retreat without shooting a single photo. Pathetic, I know. Here’s the movie I made from my indoor shots. I apologize for my cowardice that lead to such poor footage.
Remember Bill Nye the Science Guy? We thought his passion for science was unparalleled until we met the new chemistry teacher at VIS this year, who we have affectionately dubbed Carol Seymour the Science Whore.
Carol and I were at a restaurant recently when she pointed to a Coke can and said she could crush it with water. “Whatever,” I said. “That would take, like, a whole swimming pool.”
There’s nothing like a wedding to offer foreigners a glimpse into the local culture. Despite lots of begging, none of my Lao girlfriends seemed inclined to get hitched just to ensure I could attend a wedding before leaving for India. I was getting concerned. Then Johnny, our primary school Lao teacher, secretly announced her engagement (although she waited till about 10 days out to distribute the invitations).
The wedding reception was last night, and here are some highlights:
Wedding Crashers
I caught a ride with my friend Eric and his two kids, Jasmine and Ty. Their mom had coached basketball all day and was too tired come. Eric picked me up and drove the short distance to the reception hall. As we approached our destination, the road was clogged with wedding-goers in search of parking. We finally found a spot but had to walk for awhile (which was unpleasant in my awesome party shoes).
We walked toward the entrance, where a large portrait of the bride and groom stood on display. Family members posed proudly, ready to greet us. As we prepared to enter, I took another look at the portrait and said, “Hey, that’s not Johnny!” Lao brides get a serious makeover on wedding day, so sometimes they are hard to recognize. Eric perused the picture for quite a while before he believed that we were at the wrong wedding. We all cracked up and then saw another wedding portrait at another entrance, so we wandered over to that one. Again, wrong couple. By then, we were in hysterics.
Finally, we walked around the corner and found a portrait of Johnny and her new husband, Kaisone, so we knew we were at the right wedding.
Wrong wedding #1.
Wrong wedding #2.
Right wedding!
An Impromptu Toast
Last week in the staffroom, Johnny asked if I would speak at her wedding, which was in TWO DAYS. Thanks for the advance notice! She explained that a man would give a long blessing in Lao, and then I would explain what he said in English.
“Johnny, I can’t do that!” I said, pointing out that my Lao language was limited to buying mangoes at the street stalls. There was no way I could translate a wedding speech. “If you write out what you want me to say, then I could do it.” She said she would “try” to write it down for me.
When I got to the reception last night, she and her new husband were greeting everyone at the door. Johnny grabbed my hand. “I didn’t write it down,” she said.
Aaaaarrrrgggghhh!
“Just give a blessing to the bride and groom, thank everyone for coming, and then tell them to eat dinner and enjoy the dancing,” she said.
I asked how I would know when to do the announcement, but she brushed off my concern.
Not one to shirk from the spotlight, I was happy to take the stage, but I felt nervous about when to do it. When the wedding party lined up in front of the stage and a man started a very long speech, I grabbed a Lao friend named Not and made her accompany me to the front of the room. She waited till the man’s speech was wrapping up, and then she sent me up on the stage.
I thanked Not for helping me, and she said, “I’m your bodyguard!” We had a big laugh over that because she is the tiniest bodyguard you ever saw.
My bodyguard and me.
I gave a quick little toast and then received cheers and looks of adulation from the crowd as I wove my way back to my table.
The happy couple.
Dancing Queens
For my Lao friends, the highlight of any wedding seems to be the dancing. They don’t just get down and funky like we westerners do. It’s very structured. “Phon” is like a line dance with the same steps repeated over and over. There seem to be a jillion different “phons,” which the Lao people learn by watching DVDs or practicing with their friends. I was truly way too stupid to figure it out. My friend Mai gave me a quick lesson during one “phon,” so I managed to do the simple kick-kick-step-step-turn.
Carol had the moves, but she couldn’t resist cutting loose occasionally.
The Couple’s First Dance
Johnny and Kaisone took the floor for their first dance, but they looked like awkward eighth graders at homecoming. My friend Addie told me to push them together, which seemed inappropriate, but of course I did it anyway.
Family Night a couple weeks ago had it all: mystery, humor, plot twists and even a celebrity guest!
Nikki had chosen a local restaurant but couldn’t really tell us what or where it was. And if that wasn’t exciting enough, we had invited Yoga Lily, who was back in town on a Thai visa run. As usual, we all met at our house and formed a motorbike convoy to dinner, with Nikki leading the way.
At the small shady restaurant, we were greeted by the ubiquitous beer server. To our surprise, (a) the Beer Lao girl was actually a CARLSBERG girl, and (b) she spoke some English. “Do you want Beer Lao or Carlsberg?” she asked, gesturing toward a cooler stocked with green bottles.
Nikki confidently whipped out a translated list of our usual requests. Something to the effect of, “Please bring us five of your best dishes. No bones, blood or faces and no coriander.” The Carlsberg girl explained that they didn’t have an actual menu, per se. They only served a collection of Lao snacks. Hmmm… if we ate enough snacks, that would constitute dinner, right? Tempting … for about 5 seconds. Then we saw what the snacks were: grilled pig ears, grilled pig intestines and large salted fish.
After finishing our beers, we motored to a previous Family Night haunt – Pinky Beef Pot. I think Lily was sufficiently impressed.
Many Southeast Asian tourist destinations offer cooking classes as a way to experience local culture and sample authentic dishes. Despite my aversion to everything culinary, I do enjoy shopping in the wet markets for fresh ingredients, playing with unfamiliar kitchen tools, and eating my creations. Over the years, I have “learned” to cook in Chiang Mai, Thailand; Luang Prabang, Laos; and Bali, Indonesia. Most of the time, I get distracted with my camera, fail to follow directions and botch the dishes. (In Bali, I didn’t even bother paying for the course; I just showed up for part of the day to snap a few shots on Tony in action.)
And now I can add Vientiane, Laos, to my list of places where I halfheartedly learned to cook.
Morven Smith, a teacher at our school, recently started a business on the side – Lao Experiences. The first “experience” she’s offering is a cooking class at her home on the banks of the Mekong River. As she trains the staff and tweaks the process, she invited a few of us to be guinea pigs. I warned her about my lackluster cooking history, but she kindly allowed me to participate.
The class met in an open-air cooking area next to Morven’s home.
Morven, Carol and Nikki discuss the cool wooden cutting boards.
Morven watches as Catherine and Anna collect their ingredients.
Smashing up the ingredients with a mortar and pestle – exhausting!
I wrapped the smashed herbs, rice and fish in a banana leaf and secured it for steaming.
Our banana leaf-wrapped fish concoctions went in the bamboo steamer while one of the friendly helpers prepared the grills for our kebabs.
We grilled tomatoes, garlic, shallots, chilies and small eggplants for making dipping sauces. I made a spicy eggplant dip, which nearly melted my nasal passages.
Ms. Sang brushes marinade on chicken clipped in bamboo stalks on the grill.
Carol opens the steamer to check on our fish packets.
The last dish we made could possibly be my favorite food on the planet – sticky rice with mango and coconut milk.
Finally, we all carried our dishes to a table in the garden for a little feast. Shaded by mango, passionfruit and tamarind trees, we listened to the monks chanting in the temple next door, rolled sticky rice in our fingers and sipped Beer Lao to cool our fiery tongues. Butterflies skimmed around our heads and the occasional long-tailed boat puttered by as we savored a leisurely Lao lunch.
For more information about Morven’s lovely Lao Experiences, visit her website: www.lao-experiences.com.
I have spent the last hour scouring the internet for information about the insect order Coleoptera, aka beetles, and specifically trying to identify this big guy. He was hanging out on our outdoor shoe rack this morning, ironically draping his antenna over a bottle of Off insect repellent.
In my quest, I learned that beetles:
* constitute almost 25 percent of all life forms,
* live in every habitat except the open sea,
* comprise more species than any other order in the animal kingdom, and
* roamed the earth up to 318 million years ago!
People who study beetles are called coleopterists, which I have been for the last hour. Fascinating stuff. But really I just wanted to know what was lurking on my shoe rack and whether he would bite my face off if I got too close. There are several beetles with similar markings, but I think I can safely say this guy is a Batocera davidis. I couldn’t find any information about his inclination to attack or spray poisonous venom, so I’ll take that as a good sign.
