A Place Where Bank Security Means Sleeping in Front of the Bank

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The other night I biked by the bank at 11 PM and saw a familiar scene but one that’s not so common in the US. The security guy guarding the bank has brought a blanket and pillow from home and has literally made a bed at the doors to the bank, where he is fast asleep and snoring. In the US we thinking guarding means being awake, but here in Laos it just means being present.

While helping out at my guesthouse, a guest became very ill with a stomach problem so we brought her to the hospital. The doctor came in to her room, was presented with her ailments by the nurse, and made a judgment on her illness and prescribed medicines, without ever touching her for an examination. When she went to the bathroom, she was surprised to have to buy toilet paper. A list of costs for services was posted on the wall next to her bed. A visit to the ER costs about $20, an overnight stay $30 and a full-day stay $37, including all medical care and medicines. A great price, I know, but unfortunately the quality of care is quite low.

The other day, a hairdresser spent an hour washing, blow-drying and straightening my hair before taking one minute to actually cut it, which was the only service I had requested. He also chose to cut it in a style unrelated to the style I'd requested. As well, an appeal not to use the straightener was rejected as it is impossible to cut hair that isn't perfectly straight. That was my first and last visit to that hairdresser.

A male friend called to invite me as his guest to a wedding he was attending. I said sure, sounds great, when? He replied that the wedding was that night, at 7 PM. I looked at my phone clock. It was 6:45. He seemed confused as to why I couldn’t come. He was willing to pick me up later, at 7:30! I still had to decline. It was a bit short notice for a wedding, even for me.

And imagine going to a wedding, a house blessing or a funeral, where all of the food is served in shared plates. This in itself is not so hard to imagine, but also, imagine there are no individual dishes, and no serving spoons. Everybody uses their utensils to dig in to the shared plates, in effect, sharing germs with everyone else. Soups included. Germophobes would have a fit with this. But in Laos, I think sharing germs is how you show that everyone is equal.

Last week I traveled to the capital city, Vientiane to get a new visa by crossing the border to Thailand. This involved taking a twelve-hour bus each way, a somewhat long and exhausting trip. The plane ride is only thirty minutes but costs $90 more. The distance is not actually too far, the problem is that most of it is coated thickly with large mountains, so the road slowly winds around, back and forth, up and down. A new road being built promises to cut four hours off the trip, by going west through less mountainous areas. I welcome this impossible challenge.

It is a guarantee that the bus will break down at least once on a trip like this. This bus ride set a new record, with the bus breaking down only five minutes after leaving town. Luckily the bus travels with a few assistants/mechanics, and an hour of soldering a new piece of belt on to the existing belt, the group of men hunched under and around the bus, found us back on the road. The bus ride back was not as successful, with break downs happening in a timely manner, about every two hours. Nothing major, but the ride is billed as being 8-10 hours. Expecting delays, and acknowledging a more likely time span of twelve hours, makes the ride more relaxing.

A Laos visa on arrival is easily bought for $35, and can be renewed twice for thirty days each time, at the cost of $2 per day. But after three months, if you haven’t achieved a business visa or spousal visa and want to stay on, you have to leave the country. Thirty minutes from Vientiane, you can cross the border to Thailand. You actually go through Lao immigration, leaving Laos, and then jump on a bus to go the ten minutes across land and the Mekong River to Thai immigration. I’m not sure where you are during those ten minutes. I think officially the Mekong separates the two countries here. Then at Thai immigration, you are issued a free fifteen day stay in the country. If you want to, you can immediately turn around and pass through Thai immigration again, heading straight back to Laos. You only have to leave Laos for as long as it takes to get in to a new country and get back to purchase a fresh visa.

While in Vientiane, I went shopping at a massive outdoor market, composed of hundreds of stalls, the walls of each coated with t-shirts, sweatshirts and jeans, their tables bursting with the same products. Every time I paused in front of a stall to look at the merchandise, the seller immediately began to try desperately to sell to me. She would hold up random items, saying, “Do you like this? Do you like this?” and I’d say, “No, I’m just looking, don’t worry.” But I think because of the hundreds of stalls of competition, these women felt they had to try hard to get me to stay and buy. And if I said I liked something, the seller would pull it down for me to look at and say, “Buy it. Do you want to buy it? Buy it.”

Most sellers didn’t allow me to try on the items so many times I left, guessing the shirt would be too small, as most Lao shirts are for me. Always, the seller would respond, “No, not too small. It’s a good size. Buy it.” A few times the seller let me try on the shirts, which were obviously too small, the sleeves not reaching my wrists, or the armpits stretched too tight, the hem reaching my belly button. Always, they’d respond, “It’s beautiful. Buy it. Do you want to buy it?“ I laughed and walked off from most of these exchanges but eventually I entered in to negotiations with a young woman and her old crotchety mother over a sweater.

Their starting price was 95,000, about ten dollars. I knew that price was ridiculous so I also started with a crazy price, 30,000, about three dollars. The seller acted shocked and her mother appalled. After many price exchanges, many shocked looks, and about three minutes of time, we agreed on 50,000, a price the seller initially expressed outrage at. Half a dozen sellers in the immediate area, watching the negotiations, congratulated me on the price, expressing their pleasure in laughs and smiles and little comments. Even the sellers seemed impressed and pleased. Funny, they were not upset they hadn’t tricked me or gotten more money from me. They were somewhat proud that I negotiated to a fair price. After the purchase of this sweater, I left the shopping area, needing more clothes, but too exhausted by my thirty minutes of defensive shopping to continue.

When I left Laos, I spent a day in Thailand, in a town by the border, Udon Thani. Unfortunately, I stayed too long and when it was time to return, the counter at the Lao border for new visas was already closed. It was about 8 PM. I was forced to find a room in Nong Khai, the border town, and continue back to Laos the next morning. My tuk-tuk driver took me to a very cheap hotel, only 200 baht, or about $6. I was pleased to discover the room was clean and fairly new, although it was a style of whorehouse, where people come and rent rooms by the hour, either bringing a girl or renting one there. But I’d stayed in plenty of places like this before, some nice, some not so nice, but always a safe place to stay. Perhaps even more safe than your average place, as the proprietor was constantly in front of the row of rooms, checking in new guests, ordering the rooms cleaned, watching over his whores.

Unfortunately, when I went to pay my driver, he had other plans for payment and insisted he be allowed to sleep over. After ten minutes of politely declining his offers, him telling me he loved me and that we needed to be together, me saying thank you, no, I eventually just went in to my room, locked the door and closed the shades. From outside, he continued his efforts for a few more minutes then finally accepted defeat. “What time should I come pick you up, go to Lao border tomorrow?” He was not burned or hurt by my denial. That was love, this was business. The next morning, he returned on time at 6:30 AM, brought me to the border, told me he loved me, begged for my phone number and accepted his payment in Thai baht. At no time was I scared, just amused, and then annoyed. His attempts were never aggressive, they were more like peaceful negotiations, or a hopeful proposed business deal.

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Photos

Afternoon-Evening Bank Security
At bedtime, he lays down the bedding and mosquito net he has brought across the doorway, and sets up metal barricades around his bed.

Beach Petanque
Just like bocce

Fat Lizard Eating a Bird
He's stuck to the wall and left half of the bird on the ledge of the wall while he ate the other half.

Celebrating Women's Day
Typical Lao way of eating, drinking and relaxing. This small cement space is actually a friend's apartment

Big decrepit French Colonial Homes
next photo shows a plan to turn them in to a luxury hotel

Sad to see another plan for a luxury hotel
Developers are turning every other building here in to a luxury hotel