It's October 28, and I left September 28! and, what a day yesterday!

To-day is October 28-and I left September 28, very early in the morning, with both my daughters rising (note I did not say waking) to take their old mom to the airport, and my newly licensed daughter driving them both back from the airport.

I feel this is a real milestone-another month, and it will almost be time to start packing.

Yesterday was a very eventful day, so I decided to tell you about it while it is still fresh and current (I was going to say current in my mind, but I am not sure sometimes, that I have much of a mind...). BBM was going on a book party, and I decided to go. It was in the opposite direction from the other book party, and about an hour and a half drive, so I decided it would be a great way to see more of the country. Photos will just not capture the remarkable beauty of this place. The mountains look most like those outside Burlington, Vermont, on the way through to New Hampshire, with some startling exceptions (keep reading, folks...). But, of course, the vegetation is very different. The hills/mountains are covered in a wide variety of green things-bamboo, tamarind trees, all sorts of vines and green bushy things, and palm trees, of course. The vegetation is incredibly dense and thick. How the Americans ever thought they could win a war in this terrain is beyond me-however, it does explain the multi-year mass carpet bombing-there was no way, ever, the ground forces could get anywhere. But, I digress. There is one difference with these mountains: in every direction, at least four of the peaks are quite astonishing looking...you know if you are at the beach, and you take wet sand, and make a little mountain as the wet sand goes through your fingers?? well, that is just what a good portion of the peaks look like here..they are limestone, I believe, and have an incredible, craggy majesty to them-the vegetation extends almost to the peak-not idea what grows there,but it is very green and lush. While I am gazing out of the window of the van, so struck by the scenery, the BBM staff are listening to Thai and Lao pop songs...and singing along..of course, I have no idea what the songs were about, but the tunes lead me to believe the standard N.A. themes of pop music are universal-love lost, love won and love gone horribly wrong. All of a sudden, I realize I can understand the words of the music, and recognize the tune. It is Good old Celine, with the theme to Titanic...so, we drive along, grooving to Celine...yup, the Canadian girl truly is an international star. Mock and revile her, if you must, but they love her out here.

So, we drive some more and then we stop at a school, and everyone piles out of the van, and buys food at this little snack bar that is set up outside a school. The BBM staff still gets annoyed/worried about me, cause they buy all these treats, and I rarely want to share. I still have a hard time eating stuff that I can't identify-even remotely. And, I would rather risk offending them than ending up ill-it does happen here, a lot. To date, I have been very lucky, but I am also very cautious (hope I am not dooming myself to tummy troubles by making this assertion). They buy stuff that goes into a little bag, with the serving lady using her hands to transfer it from the bowl, once she finds out Linda wants a "to go" order. Of course, she put into the bowl with her hands too. And, I am exaggerating-I know what the base of the dish was-noodles. But the hand-serving thing still gets me. They scratch their head, blow their nose, take money and give back change, and then stick their hand into the bowl and serve another happy customer. I want to yell: Use A Spoon!!!", but I'm Canadian, and well mannered, so I keep quiet, but will not eat it-thanks anyway. Oh yes, I forgot-we stopped to pick up lunch in the morning market on our way out of town. We bought a big fish on a stick, which was wrapped in a banana leaf, about 3 kilos of sticky rice (maybe four), two bags of chilis, one bag of papaya salad, and two bags of various greens. We also bought a bag of spring rolls, the kind with rice wrappers on the outside,not the fried kind. All this food cost just under $5.00.The food then sat in the hot, hot sun in the van and then came up to the village with us, and then a bit later, we ate it. The fish tasted o.k. Perhaps we in N.A. over-emphasize the need for refridgeration,but perhaps I was just lucky not to get ill. ANYWAY...

I'm getting to the good part. A teacher from this school along the road came with us in the van,and we stopped at the side of the road, at a little hut thing. He headed back to the school, and we waited for a tuk-tuk. Opposite this road side way station was a rough dirt track, and we climbed the track, in the tuk-tuk,for about 40 minutes. The scenery was even more spectacular, but I was really too scared to enjoy much of it. I am not afraid of heights-however, sharp drops of many, many hundred meters, with about six inches to spare (forgive me for mixing my measurements..only literate in large metric-for you young ones, there was NO room-6 inches is nada, nothing, close to oblivion). I have a new will, and was grateful for that. I figured, since there were 5 BBM staff, we would be missed. The track was steep-very, very steep as well as narrow. In some places, I feared we would topple right over, the angle that the tuk tuk was climbing was so steep.

We arrived at the village, and then had to carry all the stuff for the book party up to the school. The track was a continuation of the one we had just come up in the tuk-tuk, but even narrower. I was a little worried-did not know how far we had to go, it was very hot and I was holding one side of a rather heavy large bamboo fully loaded basket. Of course, the other side of the basket was being carried by a village girl of about 8(with ease, of course), so I had no option but to trek on. The spirits were with me, and the walk was very short.

School was very small and shabby, with not many kids. The village is a Hmong settlement, and they are very poor indeed, even by Lao standards. No electricity-not even one satellite dish, no sanitation, and I did not see running water, though I'm not sure if they had a source from a nearby stream-we did not see the entire village.

All the people in the village had lice-kids, adults, infants, all of them. I found myself wrapping on a head scarf shortly after arrival. Sun protection,of course, but I also needed some barrier between all the crawllies and my hair. Some N.A. sensitivities take far longer than a month to disappear, I can tell you.

The ride back down in the tuk tuk was even more terrifying-somehow I ended up on the outside side of the tuk-tuk, so I had a really good view of our closeness to total wipe-out. Luckily, the staff was laughing and having a great time, so they did not hear my whimpers, and my sunglasses hid the terror in my eyes.

On the way home, we stopped at a road side restaurant out near the university (new place-looks like a hotel-I'm trying to get a tour before I leave) for papaya salad. They ordered spicy and not spicy, the not spicy for me, the poor falang. I took a little taste and my lips and the roof of my mouth almost exploded. I was not certain of the origin of the water on the table-it arrived in a plastic jug, not a sealed bottle-so started in with gusto on the cucumbers that were meant as garnish. The BBM staff was amazed that I found it hot....poor, silly falang,they all thought, I could tell. But seriously, my lips are a little burnt-at least,I think they are.

That evening, met Colin Cotterill, a writer who has written wonderful books about Laos. He is quite a character, indeed. He signed his latest book, which I just happened to have along with me. Please, ask me to show you what he wrote in the book...you will have to wait for the story. Colin said his sales are the worst in Canada of all the countries where he is published. His list of countries is extensive-Japan, France, Spain, England, Australia, Sweden, US, and I can't remember the rest. There is a piece in Time Magazine this week (I think it is this week) in the American edition-not sure if it made it into the Canadian edition-about him. Very interesting chap, indeed. And, I think his success will continue, and grow. He implored me to raise his sales in Canada, so I am under some pressure...buy his books, please. They follow a story line,so start with the first, which was The Coroner's Lunch. You could, of course, borrow the book from the library, and then buy the second (followed by the third, fourth and fifth). They are set in post-revolution (e.g. communist) Lao, are mysteries (sort of) and give a really excellent introduction to the country. I was excited to meet him-I really did enjoy all the books-and he is one of those larger than life characters. Through him, I have met a Lao women who used to be something with the royal family,and now her niece is trying to poison her, at least according to Colin. I hope to spend more time with her, and see if I can find out more of her story..it comes out in dribs and drabs..so far,I have learnt that she went to graduate school in Australia, spent several months in Hawaii, and had a dance studio in her backyard for many years...I think she taught the "royal dances"when they were outlawed. Colin has known her for 18 years, since he first arrived in Lao to work with UNICEF in Vientaine, and she is the source of much of his background information, putting him in touch with a wide variety of people. I do hope her niece is not successful. Apparently, the village elder is aware of the situation, and will take steps, if she dies soon. I queried whether he could do something before she was dead, but just got a shrug of the shoulders...this is Lao, of course.

We had dinner at a local restaurant, and then retired to the wine bar-yes, Luang Prabang has a wine bar-had never been before, but of course Colin knew just where it was.

So, yesterday was really an exciting day. Then, this morning, I went to renew my visa. I was a bit nervous-was not sure it could be done here-some claimed I had to send my passport to Vientaine, and others claimed I had to leave the country and then re-enter. Found the immigration office (it was just across the street from the crummy hotel I stayed in upon arrival, and I remembered seeing the Immigration sign on the door of the building-which proves the Rama was really a worthwhile first location), spoke to a charming chap who spoke excellent English, paid $2, in kip, (I had heard $5 per day, US cash only) per day for a thirty day extension, waited while they stamped my passport anew, and I was out of there in less than 10 minutes. Had forgotten to take a photo, but he directed me to a store down the street with a photocopy machine, and I had a copy taken of my passport photo, for just over $1.00 US.-cheap in Lao. I have to go back near the end of November for another extension-this one a short one. Now I know I will not be arrested, tortured or have my passport seized, I am happy to make the trek back to that part of town.

One last thing-when we made it back down from the village to the road, the BBM staff starting chomping away on sugar cane that was in a basket at the roadside way station. Seems here that the idea of sharing what you have is taken very literally. In any case, there were two old Hmong women waiting there. I think they were waiting for a ride-not sure if they someone was picking them up, or if they were doing a Lao form of hitch-hiking. One of the old women took a real liking to me. She kept smiling and pointing to me-finally,she got up, came over, patted my cheeks and then patted my other cheeks! I think she was quite taken with my bum-that I had one, you know. The BBM staff said they did not understand what she was saying-Linda, one of the staff is Hmong, but she claimed not to understand that dialect-I think she was just too polite to translate!

I know this is long...will try for brevity next time.

---

---