Oh My Goodness

Two things happened two days ago which you should know for my story about yesterday. Number One: We met an Indian guy from Brampton, Ontario who is staying in our guesthouse. He was nice, but called us "homies" and asked me if Saara was my "crew". Um.

Number Two: The Guesthouse Man came to our room; Saara was outside. He shook my hand and didn't let go. He asked me some questions about where I was from and where I was going. Then he abruptly ran off, letting go of my hand.

On to yesterday. What a day it was. I got up early early and spent a few hours at the National Museum. It was really interesting to see photos of when the French were here, the People's uprising against the Americans, and of Lao PRD politicians supporting "Production". It was also cool to read the captions about the Americans and their puppets in the PDR, plus descriptions of how the American government reason for carpet bombing the country and its inhabitants was to preserve freedom and democracy.

After 3 hours at the museum (they also had a dinosaur exhibit!!!), I went to look for some Internet in my never-ending quest for a cheap ticket to Korea. After e-mailing some travel agencies, I went back to the guesthouse to get Saara, who had had an exciting night and was sleeping until the afternoon. Back at the guesthouse, I realized that I had forgotten my watch somewhere!!! I was so worried, because it was the watch that my grandma gave me for my graduation. Sob.

I headed home (all the while getting harassed by tuk tuk drivers trying to sell me opium) and a guy came up to me and introduced himself. His name was Robert, he had some kind of African accent, but he said he was from Thailand. He shook my hand and ALSO would not let go. We walked maybe half a block with him holding my opposite hand until I yanked it back and said "that's enough, I'm meeting my firend, goodbye".

We went for lunch at a great place where you can search through a catalogue and they will make you pirated CDs that you choose while your food is coming. Weird, huh?

In the afternoon, Saara and I went back to the Internet place so that she could e-mail someone, and oh my goodness, the man at the Internet place brought me a note saying that my watch had been found! There was a name, a hotel, and a room number on it, so I went in search of the Rivervine Hotel, room B9. Of course, it was ridiculously nice, and I felt out of place, but the staff were super helpful. My carefully-chosen gestures helped me explain that a person staying there had not STOLEN my watch, but FOUND it, and I would like to see him to get it back, please. The staff checked the log, and he was not in his room. They would also not let riff-raff like me go into the area where the rooms were to leave him a note, but they did give me a photocopy of his passport so that I would recognise him on the street. (???????) I went back again, met the man, got my watch back, and was so so so happy.

Saara and I had coconuts and delicious Lao food at a restaraunt by the Mekong, some drinks at a bar (where we met some very nice Australian ex-politicians who were amazed at how nice our hair looked after weeks of travelling), and then headed back to our guesthouse for a beer on the balcony. This is where it gets weird.


The guesthouse man (worker? owner??) knocked on our door and asked if he could come in. I hope that I remember all of this story correctly. Saara and I were each sitting on one of the twin beds, and the GHM started to ask us questions about where we were from, where we were going, how long we would stay, etc. At the time, I thought that he wanted to know how long we would need the room for. He asked me the same questions that he had asked me earlier, so I thought that maybe he was developmentally delayed and needed to be reminded or something. He kept telling us to drink our beers, but we felt bad because he didn't have any. We offered him some of ours, and he drank. He told us that he was in Thailand for 6 months taking a massage course. Then he started to massage my hand and told me that I could have a free massage any time that I wanted. I poilitely declined his thinly-veiled offer, and he politely extended it to Saara as well, who enthusiastically declined. He talked with us some more, touching our arms and our knees, and we were just confused about what was happening. Then he told us that he wanted us to take a picture of him and us to "make a memory". We did. I'll add the pictures soon. Luckily, one of us thought to tell him that Saara needed a cigarette, so we all headed out to the balcony for her to smoke. He left.

Once we were on the balcony, Saara started her cigarette and he showed up with a beer of his own. He was talking with us, still trying to touch us, Saara smoked her cigarette and asked for an asstray (as she calls it). After much convincing, he got us to throw the cigarette butt on the ground.

That's what kind of girls we are now.

The kind who litter.

There was a very cute man selling pancakes down on the street, who was smiling and waving at us (as well as the drug dealers offering to throw the drugs up to where we were...) , and I smiled back (at the pancake man, not the drug dealers). As soon as the GHM saw this, he came over to the ledge and glared at them all. Oh well, I was more discrete later on. He invited us up to the roof of the building, and we agreed to go after Saara's cigarette. The Guesthouse Man kept putting his arm around Saara and I, touching our arms and backs. It was weird, but he seemed harmless enough. After a while, the Indian-Canadian Guy (ICG) came out to the balcony, but the GHM was standing in the doorway, put his arm out, and said to the guy "You can't come here. Go away." The ICG was like "what, man? I want to have a cigarette". THe GHM started to yell at him "FUCK YOU!!! FUCK YOU A LOT!!!"

Saara and I stared at each other with wide eyes.

"FUCK YOU!!! FUCK YOU!!! YOU LEAVE TOMORROW!! I'M GOING TO HIT YOU... I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!!!!!!!!! I'LL KILL YOU!!!!! I'LL KILL YOU ALL!!!!! FUCK YOU!!!!!!!"

The ICG walked away (thank God), and the GHM turned to us calmly, like nothing happened. I asked the GHM what the ICG had done, and he said, "He was trying to get between you and I. That's rude."

Saara and I were between the GHM at the doorway and a low balcony to the street below with a few too many drinks in our tummies. I was nervous.

The GHM calmly started talking again, told me that he likes my white skin, and started to creep the hell out of Saara and I. I was so glad that I wasn't alone. He invited us to the roof again; I told him that Saara needed another cigarette on the second floor balcony (where we were), and then we had to sleep because we had a big early day the next day. He seemed to understand, but he said "okay, we go to your room now?", which confused us even more.

Once in our room (alone), we "Oh My God"-ded for a good ten minutes, played some cards, and then Saara needed another cigarette. Good Lord.

We went outside, and the Indian guy and his homies (I can't believe I typed that) came up from the street. We apologised profusely, the ICG told us that he walked away even though he could have beaten the GHM easily, everyone saved face, and we all went to bed.


Sorry about the typos, the keyboard is a bit funny.