Flying not-so-high with Lao Airlines

We arrived in Cambodia in style: via an airplane! We had a fantastic time at Sunshine School, but other than that, after a month (and one day) in Lao, we were ready to high-tail it out of there. We wanted to stay until Friday of our second week at the school and so we had to extend our Lao visa for one extra day. This involved a trip to the dreaded Immigration Office at which we were bounced around in typical Lao style to pay one fee at this window, fill out this incomprehensible paperwork at another window, pay another fee in a different currency at another window, redo the paperwork, pay another fee at yet another window and so on until we walked out of the Immigration Office with significantly lighter pockets and an insatiable urge to hop on the next bus out of town. Instead, we skipped our afternoon classes in favour of a trip to the travel agency where we purchased two very expensive plane tickets from Vientiane to Siem Reap with Lao Airlines.

I was pretty nervous about flying, especially with Lao Airlines and especially on the tiny 60 seater plane that was flying the route. I was telling friends at the school how nervous I was about the whole thing and realized how ridiculous I must have sounded to people who have never and probably will never, be on a plane in their lives. 'This plane is too small for me! I want a bigger plane!' Ok, Goldilocks. Either way, the distance was barely a few hundred kilometers, we had a stopover in Southern Lao, and the whole trip was going to take at least three hours. In the end though, I was pleasantly surprised. Other than the fact that my carry-on bag didn't fit in the overhead compartment, nor under the seat and therefore ended up under my feet.. that is allowed here, apparently. The flight was smooth, the service was great, and, they even fed us! Twice! Who are we trying to kid? It was the food that won me over. The first flight was about an hour, we flew low, probably because this teeny weeny propeller plane couldn't push us any higher, but it was nice to be able to watch the landscape unravel below us. They fed us breakfast, which included dessert. Yes! We landed in Pakse, Southern Lao, were run through exit Immigration and directly back onto the plane. There were only about ten of us on the second leg of the trip and my bag was able to have its own seat in the adjacent seats (J: believe me, it needs its own seat!). They didn't even go through this-is-how-you-buckle-your-seatbelt spiel on the second flight. As soon as we were on board, the engine roared to life and we took off down the runway. I guess you don't have to wait for an opening when you are the only plane in the entire airport. Then they fed us a 'snack' which again, included a dessert. After my heart, this Lao Airlines is. We landed a little after 9am and I had eaten two meals already! At least we arrived in Cambodia on a full stomach!

Kids Say (or write) More of the Darnedest Things

Learning can be fun and games are a great way of actualizing this. Teaching English in Asia (and probably everywhere else, too) presents the challenge of encouraging and helping the students pronounce words and sounds accurately. One way we have been helping them to focus on proper pronunciation is by playing the telephone game. The class is split into two teams and into the first person's ear we whisper a sentence. That person and everyone after has to whisper into the next person's ear until, finally, the message reaches the last person, the one at the back of the room, and he or she runs to the front of the class and writes the sentence as it was received on the chalkboard. One small mispronunciation along the line can produce some pretty weird sentences, words and grammar.

My favourite round of telephone happened to be when we relayed the message She is walking a dog. The first team ran up to the board quite quickly. The trouble with their strategy, though, was that they concentrated on speed rather than accuracy. In haste the little boy confidently scribbled down He is walking a door. At least his spelling was correct...

My second favourite round of telephone was the I kissed the cat round. Again, one team swiftly recorded the message on the chalkboard: I castrated the cat. Poor little guy...the cat, that is.

Thank you again to Didi and everyone else who welcomed us so warmly at Sunshine School. We are happy to hear that the Open House went just swimmingly.

Bromance: Jonathan & Phout Sittin' in a Tree

UrbanDictionary.com defines: Bromance

1. Describes the complicated love and affection shared by two straight males.
2. A non-sexual relationship between two men that are unusually close.
3. A close relationship between two bros to such a point where they start to seem like a couple.

Mans-ing (v)

1. The act of wooing a fellow male friend for the purpose of becoming closer.

2. Going to unusual lengths in an attempt to become closer with another male friend.

It all began on International Women's Day. Go figure. Didi, the Director of Sunshine School kindly invited us out to see the school's organic farm, which was about an hour outside Vientiane. International Women's Day is an actual Holiday here, so there was no school that day. Phout, the PhysEd teacher at Sunshine was at Didi's house when we arrived in the morning, as he was going to come out to the farm with us. For Phout and Jonathan, it was love at first sight, or love at first sight of the Lao Phrasebook, perhaps. For the entire car ride, and then for the next two weeks, Jonathan and Phout had a complete and utter bro-mance happening. Phout didn't speak much English and Jonathan spoke even less Lao. We had been given a Lao Phrasebook from an Aussie friend named Greta way back in Luang NamTha. From that moment, it lived in the shirt of Jonathan's breast pocket and he used it several times a day. It was/is a fantastic tool to aid in communication with the locals. Whether its ordering rice and veggies at a menu-less restaurant or asking someone if they have kids (or answering that question, which was more likely) we can't imagine Lao without that phrasebook. So, as he had been doing over the previous two weeks, Jonathan used the phrasebook to start up a simple conversation with Phout. The phrasebook is especially useful because it has the Lao characters beside the English word, so even if the person you were trying to communicate with didn't understand what you were trying to say, you could point to the word in Lao. Jonathan and Phout 'discussed' sports and basic life history the entire car ride to the farm, and all the way back. Every time the phrasebook came out Phout got excited. He was fascinated by it. Jonathan would ask Phout a question and hand him the phrasebook. Phout would gingerly flip through it, getting distracted by the variety of subjects the book covered, reading words, getting Jonathan to pronounce them for him, and so on.

The next day at school, courting, Phout came and found Jonathan in his last class before lunch and personally escorted him to the lunch area. Everyday, Sunshine School fed everyone at the school a hot, scrumptious vegetarian lunch. The students came and brought a pot of rice and a pot of the day's main course to their classrooms to eat, and the teachers served themselves in the kitchen. Phout found Jonathan a bowl, filled it until rice was heaping over the edge, and then made him a second bowl full of the main course and carried them out to the table for him. He brought him extra fresh herbs and spices and sat right next to him, in case Jonathan had a whim for anything further. When Jonathan finally had worked his way through his first helping, without even asking, Phout whisked his bowl away for a refill. After the feast, Jonathan and Phout parted ways with an enthusiastic high five. And so it began. The daily love affair of Phout and Jonathan. They gushed at each other when they passed in the hall and waved excitedly when they saw each other across the courtyard. Everyday Phout would personally serve lunch up for Jonathan while, everyday, I stood in the middle of the kitchen, empty bowl in hand, watching in dismay. Everyday, while heading over to the lunch table, hands full of food, he would turn to me with a sly smile and shrug his shoulders as he left with Phout. If his hands hadn't been pre-occuppied with all the food Phout piled into them, there is no doubt those two would be walking around holding hands! If Jonathan ever happened to go to the bathroom before lunch, or stay in the class to talk to a kid and I went to the kitchen myself, I would be met with an adorably worried Phout. 'Where's Jonathan?' would be his greeting. And then, not only would I be standing there food-less, watching as Phout ran about making special arrangements for Jonathan's meal, I would also have to follow him around, assuring him that dear Jonathan was certainly on his way. 'No, of course he's not mad at you! You look very slim in that Phys Ed shirt! Any man who can't see how wonderful you are just isn't worth your time!' Haha Just kidding. But, Jeez. When does my suffering end?

p.s. Is it just me or does anybody else get the feeling that Kristen is very comfortable using hyperbole as a rhetorical device?

Kid's Say the Darnedest Things

It was our first day at Sunshine and we were simply observing Saba's Grade Three class. She was reviewing with her class how to form a question in Present Continuous Tense. Don't worry if you can't remember what Present Continuous Tense is: there won't be an English test at the end of this post...if you're lucky! Anyway, Saba has a bit of an artistic flare and uses her talent to help teach her students. In this particular class, there were four drawings on the wipe board.

Drawing number one illustrated a woman reading a book. Correspondingly the question was What is she reading? Actually, it was the Asian equivalent of the above question: "What she is reading?" Drawing number two illustrated a man eating. The bright kids quickly came up with What is he eating? Drawing number three rightly invoked the question Why are you crying? Drawing number four, however, was a bit more ambiguous than the first three.

Just as I was thinking to myself What totalitarian dictator are you saluting? one of the kids put up his hand and said, "What are they smoking?" Saba and I looked at one another and smirked. It was funny, but it was even funnier because he was so earnest. Saba slightly modified the arm that was causing the confusion, but you can maybe see from the photo how it could have been misconstrued.

We have immensely enjoyed our time at Sunshine. The kids have melted us and the teachers have been so welcoming. See you next time, class.

My Heart Will Go On

I am sure you are fully aware of the chaotic nature of South East Asian transit by now. Since arriving in this part of the world, our blog entries have mentioned this facet of SE Asian travel more than a few times. Right from buying the ticket all the way to being let off the bus frantic energy pervades the whole experience to a greater or lesser extent. This, people, is the prelude to the following short, but heart-wrenchingly sad story.

After a harrowing journey, our bus arrived in Vientiane (the capital of Lao) just as we hoped it would. What threw us off, though, was that our vehicle stopped at the side of the road in the city. Seemingly, we were within walking distance to a guest house. You see, in Lao tourist transport usually stops several kilometers outside of the actual city you paid the driver to drop you in. This way, each person is sort of forced into paying a tuk tuk (kind of like a taxi) to cover the final three to ten kilometers into the city. This peculiar Laotian practice is annoying and does little to endear the country to many travellers that we have spoken to. Either way, that's how it is. Anyway, back to this terribly tragic tale. You can understand our surprise to be let off within one hundred meters of our target guest house. The reason for this break from common practice is because in the front seat, next to the driver, was a falang and his Laotian girlfriend. Together, this team charmed the driver into not stopping outside of the city.

We jumped out of the bus in shock and amazement. Knowing we could forgo the usual tuk tuk ride, it was a joyous moment for us. We checked in, ate and went for a mosey around town. Here's the bad news: It wasn't until later that we realized in the commotion of being let off in the unusually convenient location that we left Jimmy under the seat on the bus. Jimmy the Rice Hat is no longer with us. I can't say much more about this right now, but I wish Jimmy many more years of dedicated service, sheltering some lucky person from both sun and rain. Maybe this is the lucky break he was waiting for. With us he never had a chance of working in the rice trenches. At least now he still has a chance at that. Good night and good luck, Jimmy.

On a different note, tomorrow is International Women's Day (8 March). In fact, it is its centenary. It has an interesting history that is worth looking into for its deeper purposes. But it is also a good opportunity to think about the women each of us are lucky enough to have known and who have had a positive impact on who each of us have become. International Women's Day is a celebratory day so celebrate the women in your life! Love you, Kristen, Mom, Penny, A Eileen, Looch and Ginny!