Sabaidee, welcome, etc

Well now, this is something.

This place has to be seen to be believed- which is why I’m so glad to be finally here. Nothing like what I expected- it’s sensory overload. I’m seeing everything in technicolour.

Cristy, ever-practical, assures me that the novelty will wear off soon enough, and to take lots of photos straight away, while it’s all still new. (See pics of cool buildings and stuff.)

Vientiane is more dilapidated than I anticipated. Most of the big houses are run down and peeling paint. Shabby-chic, if you will. It’s hot and dusty, and everything is bustling, and sort of sanguine at the same time. Last night, going back to Pristy’s house at the end of my first day here, I sat in the back of a tuk-tuk, watching people ride by on their motorbikes, none of which really go over about 40ks an hour. Slow enough for the boys to slow down and wave hello. It was surreal, like a Fellini movie.

Cristy and Paul are selling me their motorbike when they leave in week. It’s a Supercub, whose aesthetic retro value only just surpasses its efficiency.

Thank god my welcoming committee comprised Cristy and Paul, the two most efficient people I know. Within an hour of getting here, Cristy had already drawn me up a detailed year-long expenses plan, got me a new sim-card for my phone, and organised my day, with several options for me to choose from.

I went for my very first pedicure ever. It cost about $2. I’ve always thought my feet are pretty gross, so tend to avoid them. But the pedicure lady went totally gung-ho on my toes and soles, using an actual razor to scrape all the dead skin away. She held up the razor for me to see how much gunk there was. Then she painted my toenails silver. (See pic.)

I visited my new workplace, which, as it turns out, is two very small rooms with a few tables, above an internet café.

We went to the Morning Market and I picked out some silk and had a traditional skirt, a “sin” made. See photo. All the women wear these to work, as will I, most likely. Coming into town this morning, we drove past the most lovely girl in the world, lounging in jeans against her parked motorbike. Too cool for school, I thought. Then she saw what I was wearing and broke into a massive grin, pointing at my skirt and giving me the thumbs up. The ladies dig it!

Today is the 36th birthday of KPL, which is being combined as a farewell party for Paul and a welcome for me. Hence the skirt. Now I’m in a French café called Joma, where there’s wireless internet. I suspect I will be spending a lot of time here.