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TrekShare - Crashing a Laos Wedding - Part 2

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Public Service Announcement: Drinking and driving is bad. With

that said Ive drank and drove a few times in my day and have

puked in the back of cars while someone drunker than me was at

the wheel. My question wasnt meant to be judgmental but rather

compassionate. They were drunk; the streets were dark and

littered in potholes. When all is said and done I know I would

have jumped on the back of either of their scooters. I just

needed assurance that we werent going to take some drunken

steroid infested crotch rocket ride reminiscent of high school.

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Youve got to hate crap like that. The next portion of our

conversation seemed to flow like there was no language barrier

at all. Ton explained that he was careful to make the necessary

judgements to drive safely. This wasnt one of those times when

someone drinking shouldnt drive. This was one of those times a

person uses his judgement correctly. The idea of harming

himself or another person was foreign to him. This appears to

be the norm in a society built upon few enforceable laws but

harsh penalties for living. His outlook was refreshingly

unique. Most of us live in a world where we arent trusted to

make our own judgements. He has no choice. I soon discovered

upon exiting the gala that it had never been their intention to

drive. The party was just down the street. The energy reached

a fevered pitch as we rounded the corner and entered the rear of

the brides house. I walked stoically onto the back patio with

my head held low. I do this for a variety of reasons. The

primary reason I do this is in my everyday life is because I

find if I look up the craziest wacko will undoubtebly engage me

in a conversation. I did it in Laos as a sign of respect.

Bowing is an integral aspect of the salutation and this way I

was half way there. The depth at to which you bow and the

duration all reflect your position in life relative to the

person you are addressing. The corresponding hand positions are

difficult if not impossible to master by anyone except for the

natives so I dont suggest trying. Just keep your head low and

dont look someone in the eyes unless you are given indication

that its appropriate to do so. Two more reasons to keep your

chin low. Lets just say that walking into a communist country

like a goddamn red, white and blue peacock perpetuates certain

stereotypes that affect our relationships with other countries.

The second reason is simpler. People taller than the mean

height of 53" will ultimately take a roof of the house to the

noggin sometime during their stay in this vertically challenged

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land. About 40 people were comfortably dispersed in 4 primary

groups. One group was inside the house and used the back patio

door to supply food, drink and a constant flow of new people to

the party. One of the people in this group was Ponds wife who

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we unfortunately didnt get to meet. She was too busy working

behind the scenes. I assume its a traditional bonding time for

the mother, bride and her girls. The second group was dancing

around a tree just brought out by a woman from inside the

house. It was the Lamvong dance, except they were all circling

the tree together. It was a small space so I can see why. The

third group was a table of primarily older men drinking and a

rare 2 smokers. Not many people smoke in Laos and this was the

first time I saw anyone smoking in such a public space. I

greeted what to me looked like the oldest guy at the table. I

would say he was about 48. This is old in a country with an

average life expectancy is 54 years old. He was also one of the

smokers. Yeah right. Smoking kills. We grabbed two seats at

the ends of the "old-guys" table and spurted out "kop chi li

li" another 30 or so times. A fourth group congregated along a

makeshift bar situated behind us on the perimeter of the lawn

and street. This is where the guys who brought us to the party

set up camp. Within about 6 seconds of sitting down a 1/3 full

glass of BeerLao was between my eyes. I took a drink and

watched my friend Paul try to explain that he would prefer soda

water. It was basically a long-running joke at this point into

our 5-day Laotian trek. I cant explain how foreign the concept

of abstaining from drinking is to the Laotian people. Laotians

dont have any concept of not drinking because of personal

choices. Many people dont drink often because it doesnt bode

well with their health, but this wasnt the case. Lets just say

it wasnt the first time people would be brought into hysterics

upon a toast from Pauls soda water. It only got funnier each

of the 25 additional times he declined a drink. Being able to

consume and abuse almost anything at our discretion is not the

situation in Laos. There isnt the same kind of access to

external factors. Their gentle personalities and suspicious

nature is a reflection of their lack and oftentimes desire of

material goods. This is ideologically different than western

capitalism principals that are slowly being adopted since 1990.

Not to mention the U.S. did conduct a secret war in 1973 that

left it the most bombed country of the Vietnam War. I know you

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probably dont want a history lesson, but the rational was to

cut off the northern trade routes of the Ho Chi Min Trail in

order to curtain the spread of communism. There I said it. A

few short minutes later a sharply dressed Pond walked into the

party. He wore a purplish blue iridescent silk oxford with the

sleeves rolled up. Both his wrists were tightly wrapped in a

white cloth rope traditional Lao boxing style. He looked like

a bad ass as he sat down between me and Paul. Pond quickly got

offered a drink from one of the 4 people who were circling the

table like vultures looking for sober victims. A variety of

drinks were being served. Variety, however, is a relative word

in Laos. No apple martinis or cosmos - just whiskey and beer.

Up until this point I had only drank Whiskey Lao and Tiger

whiskey, which appear to be the two competing, brands. At 8000

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kip ($.80) per bottle I was happy to see the party upgraded to a

bottle each of Johnny Walker Red and Black. One woman also

carried around a pitcher of diluted whiskey and water. This is

what you drank when you wanted to stop drinking. The great

aspect of drinking in Laos is the one glass rule or in this case

one glass and one-shot glass rule. This ensures that when you

are given a drink you pound it immediately. In general when

drinking beer in Laos the person who buys the 40s-esqe glass

bottle pours a drink for himself before offering the glass to

the surrounding people. This is brilliant for 2 main reasons.

The beer stays cool and fewer dishes are made for our bride

throwing the party. Pond, myself and the rest of the people at

the party continued to drink and speak in whatever means we

possibly could. A lot of time was just spent laughing enjoying

the collective moment we were sharing together. Paul excused

himself after the party turned into an alternative version of

the century club. One drink per minute for 100 minutes. It

was probably during the 58th minute when the food came to the

table. Traditional Lao drinking food. Rather than pretzels and

buffalo wings the Lao people make extraordinary hot mango salads

to entice drinking. Id eaten a super hot mango salad in

Thailand just days before so I was aware what I was in for.

The dish was passed immediately to me and the elder at the table

began aggressively coaxing me to take a bite. I grabbed the

spoon and took a small bite hoping to overt their attention.

This really didnt work. Now I was being ostracized for my lack

of bite. The elder took the large Chinese soupspoon and started

burying it deep in the salad. His eyes and the 12 other leering

pairs made it apparent I needed to bring my game to the table.

I grabbed back the large spoon and made a single aggressive

swoop into the salad. The spoonful of salad I pulled out was

about as much as the spoon was designed to hold. Unfortunately

it is nearly impossible to dump out any overabundance from the

deep metal spoon because of their high vertical edges. Not much

else to do but take the bite. I dont remember what happened

for the next 3 minutes. I do remember about 3 minutes later

feeling like my head was going to spontaneously combust and that

I had probably not been breathing for the three minutes prior.

Once my eyes rolled back around to the front of my head I

noticed a very concerned elder offering me a shot of whiskey.

This is only the second time in the evening I refused a drink.

Instead I opted for an outstretched glass of BeerLao. After a

quick shot of beer I lunged for the shot of whiskey and then a

glass of diluted whiskey. Its a pretty amazing situation when

a shot of whiskey is smoother than a hot mango salad. In

retrospect I should have taken the shot first. These guys knew

what they were doing. Im pretty sure Paul had returned by this

point to witness my hiccuping frenzy caused by the ridiculouslly

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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 full stride. It was time for the friends and

youngsters to take the reigns of the party. One of the 10 or so

twenty year olds was strumming a guitar and a variety of other

guys were intermittently interjecting lyrics. We werent going

to leave the party without listening to some tunes. After the

first few songs the guitar was extended our way. Paul was

always up for hacking out some obscure song that no one in Laos

had ever heard of. To be honest unless you knew Betterman by

Robbie Williams, a little Nsync or the "its a hip - a hop - a

hip" song they probably would have no clue. Paul broke out a

funky upbeat song that got the crowd clapping - although at a

very different beat than the song suggested. Next we broke out

Creep and some of the guys joined 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 burnt CDs from Malaysia and Thailand. Most of the music was

completely unfamiliar to me, but there was a couple of

compilation CDs that caught my eye. I recognized 2 songs. The

Final Countdown by Europe was the first track and I hadnt

passed this song by since 1985; so why start now? The crowd

seemed to like my selection based on the amount of air guitar I

saw being played. Next up was a little "Beat It" by Michael

Jackson. Unfortunately this was the worst karaoke version of

"Beat It" Ive ever heard. In retrospect the complete lack of

knowledge of Michael Jackson has got to be a good thing for any

society. The party slowly unwound into a sparing match between

a 4-foot tall Bruce Lee fanatic and myself. After a few tornado

kicks, a mock punch to my nuts and a lot of posturing 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.



About the author:

Joseph Kultgen is co-founder of www.trekshare.com and has been

writing the monthly newsletter - TrekNews - for the past 3

years. He is a contributer to STA Travel and Gap literature as

well as a co-creator of TrekTV.



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