My nightlife on this trip has included a lot of billiards, mostly because a game like billiards provides a good venue for a solo traveller to meet and chat with people. The billiards tables in southeast asia – in Singapore, Thailand and Laos anyway – all seem to serve the same mix of clientele: travellers, ex-pats, working girls and non-working locals.

As a side note, Vietnam is thankfully a bit different. I haven’t seen working girls in the bars. Late at night here, they seem to lurk in alleyways – on their motorbikes. When they see a passing prospect – like a white guy on the back of a motorbike, a chase ensues. In my case, when I reach my destination – my hotel, for example – they pull up and make their sales pitch. At this point, it’s easy for me to simply duck indoors.

Anyway, In Bangkok, a working girl called me a butterfly, because she said I didn’t stay too long in conversation with any one girl. She told me I flitted from person to person – not just girls, by the way. It’s a somewhat accurate observation, but I actually tend not to move around the bar.

I’ll engage anyone for conversation or a game. Since I stand out as a passing traveller, however, a working girl inevitably strolls up, and conversation will hover around a little harmless flirting. Eventually, some version of the standard “will you take me with you tonight” question comes up, and I make it clear that I’m interested in pool and conversation but no more. After a while, the girl usually goes seeking another prospect, and another steps in to take her place.

I suppose with the “Eligible Bachelors of Singapore” thing, and some of the other stories that I’ve heard are floating around (with some significant embellishments by the way), I’ve created the impression that I’m trying to relive my teenage years here. Not true. Sure there’s been a certain amount of flirting combined with loud music and alcohol, but mainly I’ve made some friends on this trip – female and male – each of whom has shown me something new and different about my temporary home in Asia.

I may be a butterfly, but I’m no playah.

I just checked my work email for the first time in a week, and I was very moved by all the emails you sent me, letting me know how much you care about my safety and well-being. I feel very blessed to have you in my life.

For anyone who wants to keep informed or help those affected by the disaster, here are some links…

American Red Cross International Response Fund
Americares
Direct Relief International
Doctors Without Borders
Oxfam
UNICEF

I met a Malaysian woman at breakfast this morning, and she and I will head north tomorrow to the mountain villages around Sapa. She’s in Hanoi on a work assignment (travel & tourism industry). I’m guessing she’s close to fifty years old, but she calls herself a “girl”, seems to have a good sense of adventure and definitely has a good sense of humor. She took me to the Ho Chi Minh museum this morning and then dropped me off at the Temple of Literature.

Anyway, we’ll spend three days in Sapa, and then I’ll spend a couple of days in and around Halong Bay. After that, I may cut this trip a few days short and just head back to Singapore – if the cost of changing my itinerary is not too high, that is. I had planned to finish my journey down in Hue and Hoi An, but more and more it’s feeling pretty absurd to travel and have fun against the backdrop of the monumental natural disaster that has destroyed so many lives.

I just received word that I have been shortlisted for the 50 most eligible bachelors of Singapore issue of cleo! I’ll have to cut this trip one day short in order to make the photo shoot(!), but how could I possibly pass up this opportunity? Here are the details (from my email)…

DATE: 9 January , Sunday
TIME: 9.30am
PLACE: MOX Bar and Café, 4th level, 21 Tanjong Pagar Road

Please bring along the following things -

1. A pair of jeans
2. A pair of pants/cargo pants
3. A black t-shirt
4. Two short-sleeved shirts in any colour
5. Dress shoes/trainers/sneakers WITH SOCKS
6. Your great personality!

Sandals, berms, boardshorts and singlets are great for the beach but
not for this shoot.

As a professional stylist will be present at the shoot to do your hair and makeup, do come with clean hair (no gel, no wax) and clean face (no makeup).

IMPT: There will be at least 10 people present at the shoot venue at
any one time. We will appreciate it if you could come alone (no girlfriends, no mums, no pets).

The tourism opportunity represented by the rapid changes taking place in Laos is not lost on the people there. My monk and novice friends, for example, both said they imagined becoming tour guides in the future. This explains their eagerness to volunteer – they saw it as a training opportunity. I was lucky enough to be one of their beta testers.

As a side note, the monks I met in Laos seemed to treat their monastic choice as a friendlier and more enlightened version of the way many less privileged Americans view our armed services (specifically, the associated college fund). In other words, it is a way to gain access to travel and educational opportunities that would otherwise be unattainable. Phra Khanthong told me about several former monks who had disrobed and gone on to establish careers and families, and he predicted he would do the same within five years. It also bears mentioning that I saw very few elderly monks in either Laos or Thailand.

Anyway, back to my original topic… I hope the developing Laos tourist industry can find the balance needed to serve both the pleasure seekers and the adventure seekers.

ON the beaten path…
There were many many tourists in Vientiane. My first impression was that there were more tourists than local residents, and I heard from a number of travellers that this was even more striking in Luang Prabang. This is a bit of a paradox, because many people had made their way to Laos specifically because it is billed as an undiscovered destination. The Lonely Planet book on Laos, for example – admittedly now several years old – is part of the publisher’s off the beaten path series. The paradox part has to do with the fact that although Laos no longer seems to be off the beaten path, it still has no real tourist infrastructure. In that way, it serves neither type of tourist.

The rather funny dynamic this set up is that many tourists in Vientiane and Vang Viang seemed to be attempting to create for themselves the illusion that they were truly off the beaten path. They went about this mainly by trying – sometimes going to great lengths – to avoid any eye contact with other tourists. I admit that I was disappointed at first to see so many tourists, but I accepted this reality pretty quickly, and as a result I got to meet a lot of very interesting people.

The children of Laos…
They are truly beautiful – always quick to smile and wave. There is nothing in their faces that speaks of my relative prosperity (compared to their poverty). There is nothing in their eyes that suggests my presence in their country mostly means potential income. I should say that I found most of the people I encountered in Laos to be extremely warm and friendly, but as in Bali, their warmth was disingenuous just often enough to make me just a bit cynical when dealing with grownups.

Having and having not…
In general, my visits to Bali and Laos are a good reminder of how little we really need to survive, and often it’s the financially poorer communities that seem to be the richest in heart. Perhaps I digress here, but the people of Laos typically bathe twice a day – once in the morning and once in the evening. Outside of Vientiane, they bathe in rivers and streams – in full view of each other, although not in the nude. It’s a beautiful and intimate piece of real life that I was lucky enough to see. Through this daily act the people of Laos share something we think of as naturally private, while we westerners are putting wider and wider boundaries around ourselves.

charity…
Finally, it seemed a little strange to me that the ex-pats in Laos who are working for NGOs like UNICEF live in huge mansions and drive brand new SUVs.

Yesterday, I met a young novice (monk-in-training) while taking pictures by the river. Phong Sawaph is his name, and the first words out of his mouth to me were “please to walk with me.” I was a bit taken aback, but it was so out-of-the-blue, I had to allow the moment to have its way.

We ended up walking for several kilometers along the river and through various back alleys of Vientiane, and he showed me his school and his temple. He also introduced me to his English teacher, a monk named Phra Khanthon.

I visited with them for a while, and the monk asked me if I would allow him to be my volunteer tour guide to Vang Viang – a village about 100km north of Vientiane and known for its beautiful landscape and numerous caves. Basically, he was asking my permission(!) to provide me with expert (and free) tour service to a scenic Laotian village, as well as a day of interesting company. It was the kind of too-good-to-be-true offer you’d never accept from anyone but a buddhist monk.
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I stopped into my favourite Internet cafe to check email, and I was hugely relieved to see Crystal and Jimmy are OK!!! in my inbox. Crystal is the colleague I hadn’t heard about or from (per my last post), and apparently she and her husband were right in the line of fire. They spent four hours clinging to a tree yesterday before making it to safety. They’re now at the US embassy, trying to figure out how to get out of Thailand. Anyway, a big whew!

Crystal claims to hate hugs, but she’ll have to endure a few when she returns to Singapore.

Many travellers here in Vientiane are desperate to hear from friends or relatives who were in the affected areas, and although I’m overjoyed that my friends are safe, I am very sad for those who were not so lucky. Right now the estimated death toll stands at more than six times the number killed in the September 11th attacks. A natural disaster is a much different thing, of course, but I make the comparison because I have so many friends in New York City. When events like these throw themselves into our lives, it makes us realise how interconnected we are as human beings.

Finally, thank you my friends and family for you concern about my own well-being. Fortunately for me, the most harrowing and life-threatening experience I’ve had on my trip so far was largely self-inflicted: I rented a motorbike today to expand my exploratory range.

My parents will be thrilled to learn it came without a helmet, a clutch or working turn signals, and road rules here are loose to say the least. To make a left turn onto a side street, for example, the general strategy seems to be to cruise in the oncoming lane for a dozen or so meters, then cut diagonally accross the oncoming lane of the side road – swerving between the cars paused there if necessary.

Anyway, It’s the end of the day. I survived, and I’ve returned the motorbike to the shop it came from. Rest assured, I’ll stick to foot travel and public transit for the rest of my time in Vientiane. I won’t make any promises about Vietnam.

The bottom line is, celebrate and cherish life. Make your moments meaningful and you won’t have to keep your eyes peeled for tsunamis and renegade tuk tuks.

I’m too far inland to have felt anything myself, but two of my colleagues are travelling in southern Thailand. Thankfully, I heard from Tracy last night, and she and Max are safe. She reported that they literally missed a tidal wave by minutes and that the place where they were planning to dive (off Phi Phi) was hit hard. Hundreds who were there are still missing. As for my other colleague – no word yet, but I’m not sure where exactly she and her husband had decided to holiday.

I have to revise my earlier prediction about updating this blog. As it turns out, not only are there Internet cafes everywhere, but I’m actually motivated to take the time to post.

For about a dollar, I had an amazing dinner beside the Mekong River this evening. It was a kind of warm noodle salad with all kinds of vegetables, chilis, fruits and some slices of the local style pork sausage all mixed together. My beverage was a blended smoothie of fresh pineapple and orange juices. My ambiance was a dry and comfortable 77 degree (25C) evening temperature and the sun setting over the Mekong River.

My company varied. A Cambodian consultant to the local power company saw my beverage and ordered the same. I invited him to sit, and we chatted for a while – mostly about the history of the region, and in particular about Thailand’s and Vietnam’s various encroachments on Cambodia.

He left, and a Japanese woman strolled up a few minutes later. She was wearing a Razorfish t-shirt, so I took the opportunity to practice my Japanese. I told her that I worked for Razorfish, and I asked her whether she worked in our affiliated Tokyo office. Apparently, Razorfish has branched out into a kind of minor fashion label in Japan.

Anyway, the stereotype says that the Japanese travel in large camera-toting groups, but I’ve seen numerous solo Japanese tourists on this trip. Come to think of it, solo touring has been a common plot component in many of the Japanese novels I’ve read. So much for stereotypes.