“My wife would like to take a photo. Is it okay to take a photo, sir?” I asked in Lao.
The driver, relaxing in the hammock he hung from the roof of his tuk-tuk smiled broadly and said, “Yes!” He then leaned back to demonstrate just how relaxed he can be.
This man is one of many tuk-tuk drivers in Vientiane who spend most of their day napping. A special few have the hammock too. Clearly, the hammock means you’ve pretty much given up trying to solicit passengers. For some reason, that doesn’t matter to these extra-lazy few who like to take the Lao “sabai-sabai” (relaxation) to the limit.
In fact, they epitomize Lao. Although westerners sometimes view the Lao “sabai” attitude pejoratively, the truth is, it’s one of their defining cultural attributes – and there’s a lot to be said for it.
Vientiane is without a doubt the most relaxed, sleepiest capitol on Earth. In the mid-afternoon, it feels as if everyone is in a hammock taking a nap. We haven’t seen dignitaries passing by in motorcades, hustle and bustle around government buildings or even a car with a flag emerging from an embassy. If someone told me that ambassadors walk to see government officials, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ll bet they grab lunch or a snack along the way too.
Vientiane is just so informal. In fact, we haven’t seen one person in a suit. Business women wear very nice traditional sarongs as skirts with their blouses. Most foreigners working here seem to sport khakis and an open button-down shirt with sandals – at best. Jeans are pretty common too.
There’s no hustle and bustle except at the end of the day, when families move en masse to the park along the bank of the Mekong to picnic while their children play. The riverside is like a little community celebration every night replete with balloon sellers and half the food carts in town. The residents of Vientiane like to rejoice together at the end of another lazy day. And it’s charming.
In ten days here, we haven’t met one mean spirited Lao. Everyone has been kind, pleasant and most importantly, chilled out.
On Saturday, we rented a motorbike. As we took off down one of the main roads out of the city, the bike died. I pulled over, restarted it and we were off again…for two minutes until it happened again. When it died the third time, there was no more hope. We decided to get Emily into a tuk-tuk to head back to the center of town and I would try to ride the bike back, knowing I’d be stalling along the way.
We hailed a sangthaew (small truck with benches in the back – like a tuk tuk, but a little bigger) who was happy to take her back to the bike rental shop. He pulled away when I found I could not start the bike – not with the power ignition and not with the kickstart. It was dead. Emily asked the driver to stop. He backed up to where I was and offered to take the bike in the back of his vehicle. He helped me load it and offered me to sit in the cab with him while Emily sat in the back. Along the way, we chatted and laughed.
He didn’t ask for any more money than if he had just driven us, but of course we paid him extra.
Unfortunately, after the man drove away, Emily realized she left her helmet in the back of the sangthaew. Sure enough, give minutes later, the smiley man was back to give us the missing helmet.
I would say he’s typical of what we’ve encountered in Laos.
Everyone we’ve met including people in the market, hotel staff, taxi drivers, restaurants staff, shopkeepers, barbers, fellow patrons, people on the street have been kind, polite and genteel.
Genteel is really the defining word. As one lady described, Lao people don’t always like each other, or really care – but they show gentleness, kindness and manners. Always. The Lao we’ve seen are also quiet, smiley, careful and never invasive. Tell someone no, or you’re not interested to buy their product and the conversation is over – without hassle or had feelings. In this way, Laos is the anti-India.
In leaving Laos, I can’t say we’ve learned anything new or had amazing experiences that will change the direction of our lives. We’re just a little more still at heart and overall, sabai-sabai.
We also have an appreciation for this rare culture and beautiful country. The Lao won’t change the world as you know it – because that’s not their goal. It’s not what they’re about. Instead, if Laos leaves you with anything, it should be an awareness that life doesn’t have to be so difficult and that respecting one another goes a long way. The simple things matter the most.
With that in mind, we’re heading back to the border where we’ll cross the Friendship Bridge back to Thailand and reality. An overnight train will take us back to Bangkok for the next 10 days. We’re looking forward to a the perks of a real city, Thai food and the intricate life of the back sois (alleys).
But sometime when we’re stuck in traffic, walking through crowds or feeling beaten down by the bright lights, we might think of Vientiane and miss it just a bit. And when we’re frustrated, I’ll try to think back to Laos and remember the basics. A little kindness, gentleness and grace go a long way.
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