
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Doo the Barber


Doo the barber was very concerned about his country's image, at times too much. Just after waking for my 1st morning in Laos, Doo intercepted me on my way to find coffee. He gave me a thumb's up for the mohawk and invited me into his home/barber shop for some Laos whiskey. I declined but promised to return after my morning routine.
Chris and I were immediately welcomed into his family. Mother, sister-in-law, nieces and friends went about their lives as we sat on rusted benches and drank the 10$ bottle of whiskey he provided. I brought the guitar over and played my Thai songs while his 2 year old niece filled in the Thai lyrics I couldn't pronounce. We were having the perfect Saturday afternoon. Doo, with limited English, was a good conversationalist an excellent teacher of Laos language and an ambassador as well. I was asking him why Laotians aren't aggressive towards selling to foreigners like their fellow impoverished neighbors Thailand, Vietnam and Cambodia. He said, "it's tradition. I have no money or oil. I can die, OK, but a Lao man can never do that."
We gladly bought the 2nd bottle and then Doo took an unfortunate turn for the worse. His face was getting redder by the drink and, as the darkness fell, it was obvious that he'd reached his limit. But he still insisted on "taking care of us." -this was repeated to a annoying extent throughout the night. At first it was humorous that this man who couldn't sit up, and had a hard time keeping eye contact but still thought he was "taking care of us." "Don't drink so much, I worry about you, I take care of you," Doo would slur to Chris and I who were very much under control and were basically carrying him around. "Yes Doo, I love you too, yes, you take care of me," I kept repeating as I slowly walked him around. Eventually, we had to scold the Barber, much as his mom had earlier when she wanted quiet for her TV time. "OK, go home, go to bed Doo," Chris emphatically said and, finally, he did. We watched him walk slanted down the street to his shop and crash into a parked truck. We watched intently as Doo, our caretaker and guardian, eventually stumbled home successfully.
Thailand musings...





We feel our roots grow under this bamboo palace. As we drive the dirt road, dust engulphing, the muslims stare under dark scarves and they show bright smiles. I want to say 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry.' Thank you for reminding us how it's possible to live. I'm sorry, in advance, for taking part in the destruction of this isolated paradise. You have lots of time still. I wish you take in every breath from this jungle, listen to all the forest life still fortunate enough to live, let the tide cleanse and experience this Thailand, your home, like a Farang(foreigner) who prepares to leave.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Koh Lanta
A man could ask for no more than this. I see a lone Swedish girl wading in the water. The sun is directly above her, leading a path to me. Behind, at the bar, is a man so chill that he's lost the ability to fully open his eyes. On this island, maybe babies are born that way, no crying, just pop out of that womb with a yawn. The Spaniard next to me operates in two gears: vegetable and rock star. This 25yr old tour guide actually picked up a nubian Scottish princess girl by simply laying outside fo the bathroom and looking at the stars. Koh Lanta is a place where tourists come to become locals. Anaka, a dreaded German girl, sells hemp gear while her Thai Rhasta boyfriend plays bongos with his band. They own a bar here but, like most the locals, they only work enough to be able to sit, smoke and not work so much. She's been here so long she's no longer bothered by the jelly fish as she takes her morning swim. I have lasting memories after 4 days here of people that I will leave. They will remain and fight old age with a stress-less life. This island's largely empty, it seems the "farang" (foreigners) haven't ruined it yet. I feared Thailand, because it seemed everyone had been here but me, but I see now that there's always another island, and the Thais quickly learn how to cater to us without becoming a bother. I think I may have found a retirement destination....
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