'Cultural Sensitivity'

Well, I’ve just come in after being very nearly run down by a four-wheel drive. That’s another of the baffling things about Lao people in general- while they may be, as a rule, slow and laid back with little sense of imperative about anything, this all changes once you get them on the road and in control of a vehicle. Drivers here simply can’t seem to accept that sometimes you may just have to wait another millisecond for that light to turn green before you can shoot off, and that there’s a reason for the whole ‘give way’ thing.
Conversely, there is very little evidence of road rage here. There never seems to be anyone, other than me of course, getting the shits when they have to break suddenly because a car just couldn’t wait their turn.
Like many things, I think this is a metaphor for Laos in general. People here put up with all these self-imposed ‘cultural’ annoyances as though there’s absolutely nothing to be done.

Club Girls
Related is that I had a fight with the Island the other night over, of all things, his sister. We went over to visit the family for dinner, and the whole evening deteriorated into arguments when the Island discovered his father hadn’t been eating dinner because no one had been around to cook for him.
Ok, alright, that’s bad but that’s not the thing that incensed me. Mr Island has had a hard enough life - his health is failing, a lifetime of smoking has ruined his lungs, and at 50, he can no longer work. He’s never had to cook his own meals, so why would he start now?
The thing that had upset the Island, Jr, was that his 23-year-old sister was going out at night. I couldn’t see the problem, really. The Island goes out regularly til the wee hours with his friends, to my eternal fury (why would he go out when he could spend the night with me?) It’s an agreement we have come to- we go out with our own friends.
But apparently, Phonesavanh, being a girl, must stay at home and tend to the house, while her (younger and older) brothers go out at all hours.
Because, you see, the Island calmly explained to me later, Lao girls who go out are probably sluts and will never get a husband.
Well, I answered, maybe girls who like to go out aren’t interested in marrying a nasty little man who expects her to sit at home while he goes out every night drinking beer and having fun.
This suggestion was met with the usual “You just don’t understand Lao culture, things are different in your country, blah blah blah”.
And yet this country has aspirations, voiced daily in government speeches and quoted in our esteemed Vientiane Times, of becoming a ‘modern, industrialised’ country.

Meanwhile, Miss Apone Lao was crowned - “I will use the money for my education, but I will keep my crown to wear on special occasions and represent my country” - with one second-place winner and four runners-up. Strange, huh? Unfortunately, my personal favourite, Number A8, didn’t make it, probably because she was about 6-foot tall with buckteeth and a wonky eye. I kid you not. I think maybe she was related to some official, but it may have had to do with the fact that last year’s winner won because she was so tall, nothing more and nothing less.

Ordering In
I’ve been reading a lot of books set in New York recently, and getting all lovey-dovey about it. I love New York for all the clichéd reasons that New Yorkers love New York, especially the way you can get anything, pretty much at any time of day or night. Car services, laundry services, home delivered coffee from the local deli, etc.
But you know what? Vientiane is not that far off it – like in many Asian countries, service and income-generation are, for a developing community, pretty much 24-hour pursuits. So, when the Island ran out of gas the other night in the middle of cooking me dinner, he just rang up the gas company (run out of someone’s house) and got them to bring another canister. Last Friday afternoon, the whole office went over to view Noy’s new baby -

[side note: Noy had her baby, finally. And such a little one, too, even though he was 10 days’ late. And – you’ll love this – they called him ‘Bobby’. “Oh, that’s nice,” I said to Sisay, Noy’s husband, when he told us. “Short for Robert!” “No, no,” he replied. “I look in the dictionary and it mean ‘English policeman.’” Of course, why wouldn’t you want to name a Lao child after a cockney copper?]

- and everyone settled in for a long evening of cards and whiskey, ordering serve after serve of tam ma khun (Papaya salad) and beer from some local store, the owners of which just sent their kids over on bicycles, back and forth, for hours on end.
And you know what? I’m also thinking, as it’s raining, and looks set to rain for the rest of the evening, I may just order my food in. How am I ever going to leave this place?

Procrastination measures
I have been reading a lot lately. It’s pure procrastination, of course; I should be diligently carving out my career as a writer and a journalist each evening after work, but it’s just too draining. So it’s been short stories by Alice Munro and A.M Homes, Paul Auster, John Updike, Sweetness in the Belly by Camilla Gibb, and now, of all things, Crime and Punishment. Remember how, before I left Australia, I sent ahead a box of books to read in all the downtime I thought I’d be having here? And how I put in, among lots of other stuff, all those worthy books I thought I’d finally have time to get through? Well, those are the only ones I have left now. Now’s the time for C & M, Anna Karenina, Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter, etc.

Oh, what, you think I can’t do it? I’ll show you.

Office update:
Last Friday, I wore a pair of black trousers to work – nice ones from MNG that I bought last year in Bangkok – and couldn’t believe the reaction I got. I still wear a sinh to the office pretty much every day, for various reasons: it’s easy to get dressed in the morning, like putting on a suit or a uniform; I always get nice, appreciative comments, and the ladies all seem to see me wearing one as a sign of respect, or solidarity; and anyway, I really like them - they’re comfortable, and beautiful, and forgiving, and I’ll never have the chance to wear them again, probably. But anyway, it was my own personal Casual Friday, and there I was in black, man-style pants not expecting anyone to notice or say anything, and everyone, even the guys, all said I looked ‘sexy, like real working woman’! Isn’t that strange? I had no idea people felt that way about ladies in pants here. I mean, Lao girls nowadays wear pretty much anything they want outside the office, but what is it about these pants? A mystery.