Gorgeous Laos

Walking the dirt road, mile after mile to get to the villages

Sun is blazing, radiating off our skin

To my eyes we are so far from anywhere

To their eyes this is all they know to be true in this world.

These roads, these trees, the endless blue skies and my mind instinctively begins to wonder to what it is like for these people.



We enter the village, my skin so white and my eyes so light.

I am different.

My hair is different, my clothes are different, I speak differently, and they are curious.

We cannot communicate in the obvious ways; language a barrier

Only our eyes can speak.

The people come out of nowhere. Children of all ages; babies and toddlers, young adults and elders, their smiles so wide bearing signs of welcome and eagerness for us to join them.



As they pull out a bench, dust it for us to sit, I look around at their life, their village. A glimpse into their surroundings, how they live and what they do.
I see bamboo huts scattered around an open area, surrounded by forest. There are chickens, pigs, dogs, and sheep wandering about, sharing their life with the people of this village. The animal’s presence a quiet reminder that these people’s lives are basic at best and heartrending at the least. The women are squatting in a circle, hands busy shucking tamarinds, while the peanuts they already finished are drying on the tarp nearby.



I see babies carry babies, little girls with eyes that are timid and shy and little boys eager to play and show off their skills.Most have teeth, some are missing. Teeth are black, rotting or stained from the fruit of the local favorite, the beetle nut.



They smile and giggle at our attempts to communicate.

Their eyes light up as we give them the toys. The boys forming a circle to kick the ball, the girls lined up to color and draw with their new crayons… hesitant with this foreign object, watching with trepidation as I offer them a crayon.



As we leave, say our attempted goodbyes, my mind begins to ponder what is next for the colorful and beautiful people of these villages. These villages that have been there for longer than I know, doing the same thing they are doing now. They will continue on for this is all they know to be true. As we walk the dirt road, the miles it takes to get back to what is “town”, we can’t help but ponder this question….

Is this how it will be for them forever?



Creating the discussion and apparent debate…if they do continue on like this, take no heed from globalization and keep their culture as they know it to be true, is that wrong

Or

Is it actually wrong for me to inflict my biased opinion on what I believe to be true for how one should live?

After our talks and debates over our views on culture and human activity, I came away with this…walking away those days we spent in the villages, I couldn’t help but let my heart feel the sadness it was heavy with, sadness for the lack of health care and education, sadness for the lack of choices and the lack of knowledge that there are indeed choices.



But who am I to say how they live is neither right nor wrong, all I can do is hope for them. Hope that they find love and peace, happiness and joy, as is the hope for us all in this wild life. I am thankful to once again be able to see life is much different then I know to be true. Our reality of starbucks on every corner and shopping trips to Walmarts or Nordstroms is not real. Or maybe it is as real to us as the dirt roads are to the people of these villages. Making us exactly the same as them. Fulfillment will be found within ourselves and not within the walls of any mall or in any village that is on the banks of breathtaking waterfalls



Laos, you intrigued me from the beginning and prove to be one the most gorgeous places I have seen to date... You succeeded to teach me even more about how others live in this complex world, and provided a dazzling backdrop to my discoveries… Thank you