The next morning, April 10, I decided to take it easy. I did my routine, had breakfast, packed, took a dip in the pool and said goodbye to my hotel.
I arranged a ride to the airport with the hotel for $8. When I arrived there was some kind of dance performance in full swing IN THE TERMINAL. They sang and played instruments and danced. I watched for a while. It must have something to do with the Khmer New Year. It seemed to tell a story about archers shooting down a horse. The footwork of the dancers was great.
While waiting to board I saw a man wearing a Nevada Wolf Pack shirt. I struck up a conversation about it and it turns out he is from Reno and the woman he was traveling with was from Tahoe City. Joe and Jodi. We got to talking and we boarded a very empty flight.
Joe eventually came up and sat next to me and we talked for a while. He is retired, a former engineer turned into a dentistry practice. Lived in Reno for 20 years. We talked about Tahoe, Reno, Gardnerville, Asia. I ended up losing track of them after we arrived but I’d find them the next day on the street in Luang Prabang. I kind of figured I would.
When we touched down in Laos, the haze was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I could already smell it through the plane. I advised Joe and Jodi to get a mask if they didn’t have one already. I started to regret my plan to go somewhere with awful air.
As I stood in line to get my Visa on arrival the sky outside grew darker and inside moths gathered around the lights until they formed a cylindrical swirling of chaos. Eventually they reached my neck, my back. I swatted at them. The guards laughed.
“What you call this?”
M-O-T-H. I told them. He looked it up on his phone. “This?” Yes, that. In Lao we call them “Mao.”
I got my passport back— and now my passport has more filled pages than blank pages, not a bad achievement! I tried to wait for Joe and Jodi, but the moths were getting really bothersome, so I found my driver and got out of there.
It was a short drive to my hotel. We crossed the Mekong River and he dropped me off at my hotel— The Burasai Heritage. Right on the river. The hotel has more of a guesthouse feel to it, but my room looks right over the river on the patio.
I went for a walk to get a vegetarian meal. As I walked I found the little river village town to be decorated in little lights. The streets were narrow, and quiet, and well lit. I passed two temples in two blocks. I felt like I was in Carmel-by-the-sea, without the luxury stores and malls, and any regret I had about coming here vanished.
The meal was excellent and I stayed on my balcony sipping tea until entirely too late. I have to wear a mask when the haze gets bad, but the lights on the river were worth it.
Tomorrow morning I had to get up early. Hundreds of monks in bright orange robes begin their alms walk at dawn. And I’m going to see it.