Home is where you hang your toothbrush holder . . .

Well, we’re now about 10 days into our stay in Muang Sing. How to describe this little town?

Great market, with lots of veggies (critically—onions, garlic, potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, cabbage, cucumbers), herbs (some known and some not—galangal, lemongrass, cilantro, parsley), plus chickens/ducks (live or not, with feet hanging out, and being carried about by feet or in “chicken purses”—I heard a quack and thought “oh, that person has a duck in their bag” but indeed the bag was the duck, just protesting being carried in an undignified manner), plus live eels swimming about in plastic bins, lots of noodles (dried or being “scissor-cut” from larger-than-lasagna-like sheets that have been folded for easy cutting), some fruit (rambuttans, oranges, semi-flavorless mangoes due to season, oranges, few pineapple, some bananas, rare pineapple, few and somewhat flavorless apples, grapes, peaches, plums). Nextdoor a “mall” of sorts (big u-shaped building with lots of shops and a u-shaped interior corridor, all shops with garage-door sorts of openings), housing stacks of clothes, or Chinese plastics, or wash basins, rice cookers, woks up to 3-feet across, hoe or shovel heads, pesticide sprayers, cell phones, various sugarized drinks (we like the mango, tamarind, yogurt drinks and occasionally soy milk boxes) and “popped candy” or shrimp-flavored snacks, palm oil, fish sauce, chili sauce, polyester clothes or bedding . . . quite a place!!

We’re surrounded by beauty . . . we’re in a very wide valley, surrounded on 3 sides by hills that are moody, surreal, often cloud or mist-covered. It’s rainy season which means green-ness is all around, also means that at least we can’t predict the weather. Our first few days here were very rainy, perfect for the poetry I’m intending to write. The hills are covered with quilt-patterns of plantations, either “upland rice” (which doesn’t have flat, water-filled terraces but instead can grow on steep fields), or more often rubber plantations.

The weather’s good . . . mid-day is warm and certainly in the sun is downright hot, but mornings and evenings are cool. If you move around you get sticky, but after a shower lying still you’re cool. Fortunately for us the bugs are also relatively few. Our guesthouse is screened to keep out the biggies / baddies, the little black gnats still get thru so we leave the light mostly off above our bed. The idea of them makes us itchy but I don’t really think they bite much.

And we’ve made several friends . . . We've met some fabulous folks who are here doing local NGO work--and who know people we know! There's a couple named Brian and Laila from Santa Barbara, CA. They’re here doing very "off-the-beaten-path" health development work, and have a kids play / development time every afternoon, 4-6pm that Neil has quickly gotten involved in. She practiced for years as a pediatrician in the US, and he's a photographer by trade, now her right-hand man in health / development work. Also have met a German woman, Ingrid, working here for GTZ (the German govt-related NGO / bilateral group) on agricultural development with the ethnic hill tribes, around livestock development. Also have met a Chinese woman, Yunxi, who's getting her PhD in anthropology from a univ in Australia, by studying the Akha ethnic tribe (effect of rubber plantations on them), which shares ethnic heritage with her own ethnicity--the Hani people of China who Neil so enjoyed visiting a couple of years ago.

We've had some trouble finding a place to live. We were all set to move in with Yunxi as she has a big house (WITH kitchen and bath which seems to be the stickler here) and was happy to share, but then we got into a complicated negotiation translated with 3 separate languages involved, with her landlord, a policeman who lives right next door. It was clear the idea made him very nervous, they were worried for her safety, for their liability, for lots of things. (At one point Yunxi said something like, “so let’s speak frankly—in the worst case scenario if they killed me, he’s worried about something like that?” and everyone chuckled nervously.) We finally gracefully backed out which made everyone much more comfortable and we all remain friends. I bought two small pillows from the policeman’s wife a few days ago, and also visited with his brother-in-law (who speaks English) a bit. I was concerned we would jeopardize Yungxi's relationships with them, which wouldn't be good as she needs to stay and do her research for months to come, yet. Anyway, so we've finally made a 3-week agreement with the owner of Chan Thimeng guest house, a very beautiful concrete two-story building in a beautiful, quiet part of town that overlooks stunning rice fields, is quiet and breezy and cool. Has a beautiful terrace. And importantly, is far away and pointed the opposite direction from the town loudspeakers which seem to include news and nationalistic music from about 6:30-8:30am and Buddhist chants in the early evening. And they've agreed to let us set up our electric wok, rice cooker, and dish basin (no running water near the cooking area, just work with a basin). So we’ve bought our cooking appliances and a few basics and some food. Nga, the young woman who runs the guest house, is very helpful and friendly. We’re exchanging light coaching on how to pronounce numbers (she in English, me in Laos—I’d never thought about how subtle the difference between 30 and 13 is. . . ).
There's also a very nice man named Pohon whose family has a restaurant overlooking the rice fields, and who runs tours/treks up to the ethnic hill tribe areas. We've been helping him with the English for some of his displays about his tours, and in return have had several yummy veggie lunches. He speaks English and seems like a nice, good, hard-working family man. They also run an "herbal massage and sauna" business--though I for one can't imagine going into a sauna most of the time here. Neil and Pohon together built us a wood / bamboo shelf so we can hang our clothes and feel less like we’re living out of our suitcases. Quite the lovely piece of furniture!! Note the instructions from the local tourist office / and police / and management unit, these are the “guest house rules” that are the same in each guest house, which addresses things like “be in by 10pm” and no prostitutes or drugs. We've bought bikes (which we're enjoying very much!) and Neil collaborated with a nearby mechanic to weld an extension to the "post" so his seat is a good 4-6" higher than other bikes in town, making his knees much less sore!

As we've met especially the NGO expats who live here, and described that we want to live here for a month just "to be and to see", we got looks that I imagine we'd have given people when we lived in Juba, Sudan, if they said they just wanted to live local. Like: "Why did you pick here? What are you going to DO?" I feel self-conscious to sit and read my book / write my poems when there truly is poverty and need around and I see NGO folks working their 14-hr (or even 6-hr) days in demanding conditions. Hmm. Were we silly to try this here? I feel that we’ve probably picked a harder / poorer place than we realized initially. I do feel self-absorbed to sit here cool in my tidy little guest house room while farmers till their fields outside despite leeches, snakes, bugs, hot sun, etc.,--even the government workers here reportedly make $40/month so supplement with farming or other things. Neil commented that I’m a bit self-absorbed with my self-absorption—hmm, that’s a bit of a twister!! But I am doing a lot of reflective thinking about how best to spend my time here, and also how I want to spend the rest of our year after we leave Muang Sing. Seems that doing a sabbatical “well” is a bit tricky. I see in myself and I’ve seen in a few colleagues on sabbatical recently, a restlessness, unsureness re: what to do with oneself, etc. It really does seem to be an unnatural way to live, not to have daily work. Plus, I fear I’ve become a bit of a “city girl” and perhaps even in a US town this size, would have trouble finding enough to do.

So . . . on the good side, it's not too hot, the people are friendly, we've made friends here both expat and local, we’re both healthy so far, the market has a-plenty (only thing we're lacking is good bread and a place that has cheaper ice cream, so far have only found that at one of the guest houses in town for a whole 50cents per ice cream bar, which amazingly feels expensive. :-) ), there are many cute baby animals around, we have a comfy, clean place to sleep at night, and the pace of life here truly is slow. Really, our troubles are few.

On the other- (I hesitate to say down-) side, we don't have our own house, it's a little "tougher living" here than we thought, and the need nearby makes one self-conscious about being too pamper-ey or even leisurely with one's time. We have to leave Laos to get our visa renewed as of Sept 12, and I think it's unlikely that we're return to Muang Sing, though we may come back to check out other parts of Laos, not sure. Anyway, we've negotiated to stay here until then, so it will be nice to do less "logistics" and more other stuff like writing and reading over the next few days. For me, part of it will be determining some of my personal objectives for this year--as Yunxi my Chinese friend here said, "oh, you're such an NGO person!!" when I told her that. Yup, guilty as accused. It will be nice to get into a bit more of a rhythm as so far it's felt like moving around, getting settled, making decisions, etc. I've found myself having reactions I recognize as "missionary wife-ish" like when Neil throws my pillow on the floor to sit on, or BRINGS a gecko into the room to show me, but then it gets loose, or my custard apple is covered with little tiny, white, pill-bug-like creatures which I attempt to eat around, or I just really would love some fresh orange juice or whatever. Ha!! Have seen that and felt it before in other settings! I'm trying to be "zen" and be "above" needing to control my surroundings. And feel okay about the fact that I do love a cool shower, feeling clean and not sticky in the middle of a warm day. Ah well.