Very organized markets and herbicide.
Several years ago I went to Laos on a FAM trip through Southeast Asia with 6 other travel industry professionals.
Laos is a tiny country yet it overflows with beauty. Visually of course. My experience in Laos left me with an appreciation for a beauty that cannot be seen, but rather felt, and that’s the beauty of time.
I stayed just a few days in Luang Prabang, a tropical mountain town set in a valley on a peninsula formed by the Mekong and Nam Khan Rivers. It's the spiritual center of Laos and a UNESCO World Heritage site.
Words that come to mind when I think of Laos include: green, gold, very organized markets, quiet but smiling people, marigolds, herbicide, betrayal. Like most communist countries, it confuses the non-communist.
The trip was action packed. Within these few days I:
Served alms to Buddhist monks outside their monastery at 5:00 a.m., a tradition known as tak bat.
Chanted with monks-in-training that night in a golden temple.
Made regional dishes using farm-to-table produce that turned out pretty damn good.
Attended a Baci Ceremony of blessing in the little house of a little old lady.
Ate no less than 10,000 fresh mangosteen.
OMG it was so wonderfully enchanting, my short time in Laos. Our group was set to move to Bangkok in the late afternoon. I had chatted quite a bit with our local guide the day before and found out he was a cyclist. Now, I’m no Lance Armstrong but I can hold my own on 2 pedals and with that information, he offered to take me on a morning bike ride at no charge.
He planned to ride anyway. I just had to be ready at 6:00 a.m. He’d pick me up and guide me around the city, over bridges and along the river, until we reached Mount Phousi, where we would climb the hill’s 300 stairs to catch the sun rising over the green valley, flush with glowing temples and palm trees and small houses with red roofs.
The sunrise was spectacular, I guess, because it’s not what I remember the most.
Nor is it the fact that he lost his father to cancer caused by Agent Orange used during the Vietnam War. Or that he started a community cycling program to raise money for local schools to build much-needed roofs and buy supplies for the students.
His invitation to join him on his morning ride was so meaningful to me. There was no ulterior motive behind it - nothing romantic, nothing monetary. It was the simple act of giving his time that stuck out so much.
I guard my time like a Masaai warrior, with a sharp spear and beady eyes, ready to pounce on anyone or anything that might encroach upon it. And while I do believe that time to yourself is critical to a happy life, it does have the power to make you resistant, tight, closed. A battle I find myself fighting rather often.
But when I am on the battlefield I think about that bike ride with him, and I open up. Because what was just a simple gesture for him was so much more to me.
In the spirit of the season, if you have nothing material to give, you always have your time. And for many of us, that’s enough.
You can also give a book. My book. Just sayin’. Wander Lust is available wherever you buy your books and makes a great gift!
With love,
Bethany
