TrekShare,Crashing,Laos,Weddin travel,insurance TrekShare - Crashing a Laos Wedding - Part 2

Like any American, traveling occasionally is just what I love doing and I bet you share the same stuff with me. But traveling does not mean that you would be safe. Escaping from our job and other stressful activities is just something that w Torres del Paine is among the biggest of Chile’s national parks, occupying almost 600,000 acres (242,000 ha) of land in the south on the border with Argentina. It is also among the most important, receiving a significant proportion of domes

Public Service Announcement: Drinking and driving is bad.  With that said I’ve drank and drove a few times in my dayand have puked in the back of cars while someone drunkerthan me was at the wheel.  My question wasn’t meant to bejudgmental but rather compassionate.  They were drunk; thestreets were dark and littered in potholes.  When all issaid and done I know I would have jumped on the back ofeither of their scooters.  I just needed assurance that weweren’t going to take some drunken steroid infested crotchrocket ride reminiscent of high school.  You’ve got to hatecrap like that.  The next portion of our conversation seemed to flow likethere was no language barrier at all.  Ton explained that hewas careful to make the necessary judgements to drivesafely.  This wasn’t one of those times when someonedrinking shouldn’t drive.  This was one of those times aperson uses his judgement correctly.  The idea of harminghimself or another person was foreign to him.  This appearsto be the norm in a society built upon few enforceable lawsbut harsh penalties for living.  His outlook wasrefreshingly unique.  Most of us live in a world where wearen’t trusted to make our own judgements.  He has nochoice.I soon discovered upon exiting the gala that it had neverbeen their intention to drive.  The party was just down thestreet.  The energy reached a fevered pitch as we roundedthe corner and entered the rear of the bride’s house.  Iwalked stoically onto the back patio with my head held low.I do this for a variety of reasons.  The primary reason I dothis is in my everyday life is because I find if I look upthe craziest wacko will undoubtebly engage me in aconversation.  I did it in Laos as a sign of respect.  Bowing is anintegral aspect of the salutation and this way I was halfway there.  The depth at to which you bow and the durationall reflect your position in life relative to the person youare addressing.  The corresponding hand positions aredifficult if not impossible to master by anyone except forthe natives so I don’t suggest trying.  Just keep your headlow and don’t look someone in the eyes unless you are givenindication that it’s appropriate to do so.  Two more reasons to keep your chin low.  Let’s just say thatwalking into a communist country like a goddamn red, whiteand blue peacock perpetuates certain stereotypes that affectour relationships with other countries.  The second reasonis simpler.  People taller than the mean height of 5’3" willultimately take a roof of the house to the noggin sometimeduring their stay in this vertically challenged land. About 40 people were comfortably dispersed in 4 primarygroups.  One group was inside the house and used the backpatio door to supply food, drink and a constant flow of newpeople to the party.  One of the people in this group wasPond’s wife who we unfortunately didn’t get to meet.  Shewas too busy working behind the scenes.  I assume it’s atraditional bonding time for the mother, bride and hergirls.The second group was dancing around a tree just brought outby a woman from inside the house.  It was the Lamvong dance,except they were all circling the tree together.  It was asmall space so I can see why.  The third group was a table of primarily older men drinkingand a rare 2 smokers.  Not many people smoke in Laos andthis was the first time I saw anyone smoking in such apublic space.  I greeted what to me looked like the oldestguy at the table.  I would say he was about 48.  This is oldin a country with an average life expectancy is 54 yearsold.  He was also one of the smokers.  Yeah right…. Smokingkills.  We grabbed two seats at the ends of the "old-guys"table and spurted out  "kop chi li li" another 30 or sotimes.  A fourth group congregated along a makeshift bar situatedbehind us on the perimeter of the lawn and street.  This iswhere the guys who brought us to the party set up camp.Within about 6 seconds of sitting down a 1/3 full glass ofBeerLao was between my eyes.  I took a drink and watched myfriend Paul try to explain that he would prefer soda water.It was basically a long-running joke at this point into our5-day Laotian trek. I can’t explain how foreign the conceptof abstaining from drinking is to the Laotian people.Laotians don’t have any concept of not drinking because ofpersonal choices.  Many people don’t drink often because itdoesn’t bode well with their health, but this wasn’t thecase. Let’s just say it wasn’t the first time people wouldbe brought into hysterics upon a toast from Paul’s sodawater.  It only got funnier each of the 25 additional timeshe declined a drink. Being able to consume and abuse almost anything at ourdiscretion is not the situation in Laos.  There isn’t thesame kind of access to external factors. Their gentlepersonalities and suspicious nature is a reflection of theirlack and oftentimes desire of material goods.  This isideologically different than western capitalism principalsthat are slowly being adopted since 1990.  Not to mentionthe U.S. did conduct a secret war in 1973 that left it themost bombed country of the Vietnam War.  I know you probablydon’t want a history lesson, but the rational was to cut offthe northern trade routes of the Ho Chi Min Trail in orderto curtain the spread of communism.  There I said it.A few short minutes later a sharply dressed Pond walked intothe party.  He wore a purplish blue iridescent silk oxfordwith the sleeves rolled up.  Both his wrists were tightlywrapped in a white cloth rope – traditional Lao boxingstyle.  He looked like a bad ass as he sat down between meand Paul.  Pond quickly got offered a drink from one of the4 people who were circling the table like vultures lookingfor sober victims.  A variety of drinks were being served.Variety, however, is a relative word in Laos.  No applemartinis or cosmos - just whiskey and beer.   Up until this point I had only drank Whiskey Lao and Tigerwhiskey, which appear to be the two competing, brands.  At8000 kip ($.80) per bottle I was happy to see the partyupgraded to a bottle each of Johnny Walker Red and Black.One woman also carried around a pitcher of diluted whiskeyand water.  This is what you drank when you wanted to stopdrinking.   The great aspect of drinking in Laos is the oneglass rule or in this case one glass and one-shot glassrule.  This ensures that when you are given a drink youpound it immediately.  In general when drinking beer in Laosthe person who buys the 40’s-esqe glass bottle pours a drinkfor himself before offering the glass to the surroundingpeople.  This is brilliant for 2 main reasons.  The beerstays cool and fewer dishes are made for our bride throwingthe party.  Pond, myself and the rest of the people at the partycontinued to drink and speak in whatever means we possiblycould.  A lot of time was just spent laughing enjoying thecollective moment we were sharing together.  Paul excusedhimself after the party turned into an alternative versionof the century club.  One drink per minute for 100 minutes.   It was probably during the 58th minute when the food came tothe table.  Traditional Lao drinking food.  Rather thanpretzels and buffalo wings the Lao people make extraordinaryhot mango salads to entice drinking.  I’d eaten a super hotmango salad in Thailand just days before so I was aware whatI was in for.   The dish was passed immediately to me andthe elder at the table began aggressively coaxing me to takea bite.  I grabbed the spoon and took a small bite hoping toovert their attention.  This really didn’t work.  Now I wasbeing ostracized for my lack of bite.  The elder took the large Chinese soupspoon and startedburying it deep in the salad.  His eyes and the 12 otherleering pairs made it apparent I needed to bring my game tothe table.  I grabbed back the large spoon and made a singleaggressive swoop into the salad.  The spoonful of salad Ipulled out was about as much as the spoon was designed tohold.  Unfortunately it is nearly impossible to dump out anyoverabundance from the deep metal spoon because of theirhigh vertical edges.  Not much else to do but take the bite.  I don’t remember what happened for the next 3 minutes.  I doremember about 3 minutes later feeling like my head wasgoing to spontaneously combust and that I had probably notbeen breathing for the three minutes prior.  Once my eyesrolled back around to the front of my head I noticed a veryconcerned elder offering me a shot of whiskey.  This is onlythe second time in the evening I refused a drink.  Instead Iopted for an outstretched glass of BeerLao.  After a quickshot of beer I lunged for the shot of whiskey and then aglass of diluted whiskey.  It’s a pretty amazing situationwhen a shot of whiskey is smoother than a hot mango salad.In retrospect I should have taken the shot first.  Theseguys knew what they were doing.I’m pretty sure Paul had returned by this point to witnessmy hiccuping frenzy caused by the ridiculouslly hot food.  The guesthouse was locked and instead of waking up the owners twice he opted to come back to the party.  What a considerate guy!  The night progressed in this standard fashion for a while until Pond excused himself from the table.  Much of the rest of the table cleared at this point and headed in separate directions.Group #4 hanging out by the back bar was still in fullstride.  It was time for the friends and youngsters to takethe reigns of the party.  One of the 10 or so twenty yearolds was strumming a guitar and a variety of other guys wereintermittently interjecting lyrics.  We weren’t going toleave the party without listening to some tunes.  After thefirst few songs the guitar was extended our way.  Paul wasalways up for hacking out some obscure song that no one inLaos had ever heard of.  To be honest unless you knewBetterman by Robbie Williams, a little N’sync or the "it’s ahip - a hop - a hip"  song they probably would have no clue.Paul broke out a funky upbeat song that got the crowdclapping - although at a very different beat than the songsuggested.  Next we broke out Creep and some of the guysjoined us in singing the melancholy mumbling of Radiohead.It was probably the loudest we ever sang that song.Pretty soon DJ Jacky Joe was at the stereo plugging in burntCD’s from Malaysia and Thailand.  Most of the music wascompletely unfamiliar to me, but there was a couple ofcompilation CD’s that caught my eye.  I recognized 2 songs.The Final Countdown by Europe was the first track and Ihadn’t passed this song by since 1985; so why start now?  Thecrowd seemed to like my selection based on the amount of airguitar I saw being played.  Next up was a little "Beat It"by Michael Jackson.  Unfortunately this was the worstkaraoke version of "Beat It" I’ve ever heard.  In retrospectthe complete lack of knowledge of Michael Jackson has got tobe a good thing for any society.  The party slowly unwound into a sparing match between a4-foot tall Bruce Lee fanatic and myself.  After a fewtornado kicks, a mock punch to my nuts and a lot ofposturing it was time to go.  This experience opened my eyes to a country that first started allowing Westerners to enter in 1989.  Our knowledge and experiences are skewed by the boundaries and institutions we place ourselves.  It was wonderful to escape to a place where those boundaries are outside any field I have ever walked.  ©2003 TrekShare LLC - Reprint with Permission.