The following was originally posted at https://www.reginagbeach.com
Author: Regina Beach
Part I
Oh Laos, I thought I knew you all this time
Had seen your beauty: mountains and the caves
I learned your tongue and tasted kefir lime
I took to the road, dirt and paved
The earth speeds by and we hardly stop to glance
My tires, new and young grip rock and dust
The air escapes out through by a sharp lance
I’m humbled; now our progress is a bust
The asphalt never spoke to me before
A testament to modern will of men
To tame the jungle feathers with black tar
My body moves under my power then
Bonmi (1) as my uncharted guide gives faith
That people-strength connects the human race
1 Lao for Good Man, also Markus’ Lao nickname
Part II
Sabaidee! (2) Children shout and wave non stop
I’m tired, parched.
Up hills I’m short of breath
Sabaide! Hello! Cycling I’m on top
of the whole world, goes by my quest
The things I’ve lost: my gloves, a shirt, sunglasses
Don’t matter compared to those I’ve let go
My world is not to be feared. Time passes
My body: able. Fear conquered as foe
Young people are curious, speak English, Lao
Old people smile, the villagers at work
Falang (3) on bicycle, so crazy, wow!
Papaya salad, khao piak (4), a perk
Lao food, Beer Lao, shared dance and song, welcome!
Pride vanishes with music, connects some
2 Lao for Hello
3 Literally Lao for “French person” but translates to non-Asian foreigner
4 Literally Lao for “wet rice” but translates to noodle soup with fresh hand-made noodles
Part III
Day three we stay in Salavan with John
A painter from the states and his two cats
Are you married? We say yes, it’s a con
Your women cook, clean, work, wear many hats
See, it’s a man’s world yet, try not to mind
The doubters, cynics, should do, shouldn’t, can’t
Your bor pen nyang, (5) laissez faire I find
Grow endless possibility and plant
A wild open frontier for explorers
Yet keep the locals stuck in family ties
The West for individual tourers
The East, the group mentality decides
From north to south the fairer sex dismissed
From east to west girls, ladies get the gist
5 Literally Lao for “it’s nothing” a Hakuna Matata-esque Lao saying meaning don’t worry about it
Part IV
To mould the heart like fire tempers steel
With heat to ease the bending, pounding change
Unshattered, stronger blades posses the zeal
Required to love a place with such a range
Of fickle emotion, spurs, scraped up knees
A deep voice, falling water unrequited
A place will never truly love you, please
To say it’s not worth it is short sighted
A basket of sticky rice, share with me
Small glasses, ice. Cheers! Pour another round
What’s mine is yours. Turn you and I to we.
The sun sets early. Earth turns, night is found
The stars are bright here, form the Milky Way
We dance, the music carries us. Press play.
Part V
My heart turned to a million specs of dust
I breath it in, my heart swirled in my lungs
The sunlight caught the specs in rays of lust
Through bamboo walls the leopard spots unsung
The French, they told the Lao, “Now you are Laos.”
The Lao, they told the Hmong (6), “You don’t belong.”
The Hmong asked Uncle Sam for a new house
America, your bombs dropped all along
The PDR made the Katu (7) one tribe
With different tongues, can’t you see we are not?
The borders drawn, mass flight, will we survive?
United now, under one party taught
The sickle, hammer: gold on a red field
White moon, blue sea, red stripes the fates are sealed
6 Northern hill tribe that fought with the US military during the secret war in Laos
7 Southern polygamous tribe in Laos
Part VI
We’re chasing the sun to Pakson, Riding
the southern swing from Tad Lo to Pakse
Flat Earthers say science is misguided,
insist, “We live on a disk” come what may
I know the real truth but how to explain?
An astronomer I am not and yet
Belief holds power I can not contain
On education, I surely will bet
The schools are basic, four walls and some desks
A toilet out back, for some, not even
Teachers: not paid, untrained, hands tied, unless:
A change in regime to include reason
Slow progress is still progress to be sure
The only way to is through, school’s the cure
Part VII
First gear, I’m back in the saddle again
Red bandana, blue shirt: my uniform
Second gear, inclines are written in pen
Spandex bike shorts so strange, beyond the norm
Road side noodle soup, no meat, side of greens
Torn and tossed into broth, stirred with chopsticks
The edge of the road fades quickly it seems
Third gear, fourth, flat asphalt becomes my fix
Coasting downhill I dare myself, “don’t brake”
Faster I fly, round curves marked with cement
Striped pylons, slow down, turn: a piece of cake
A simple machine powered by legs bent
Onward, upward, upshift, downshift, let’s go
Repeat, the struggle builds character, no?
Part VIII
Savanakhet Province by the river
Ice cream for breakfast by empty rice fields
Creaky log bridges, crossing I quiver Gephyrophobia (8): held break, fear yields
Salavan town, small capital city
Fist raised, a statue stands, Ong Keo Park
Our hero died 1910 a pity
Fought the French, his likeness in bronze so stark
Sekong Province, I saw only the west
Sinouk Coffee plantation Bailey’s der (9)
Green hills, the forest lush mountains I quest
Annamite Range toward Vietnam border
Chapasak from north to south you smolder
We snack in the bridge hut on the shoulder
8 The fear of bridges
9 Lao tag-on for politeness akin to “please”
Part IX
To cycle in the city is different
From open road to traffic circles round
More cars, more lights, the honking makes me bent
Out of shape, don’t cut me off!
Up I’m wound.
The mall stairs tucked in back behind the stores
We climb them, purchase candy, beer and then
The movie clerk won’t acquiesce, ignores
Request for English subtitled Lao when
Crushed we find we won’t see the waking force
The barges raise the sand from river depths
The backhoe scoops and leaves it all in course
We watch, sip, leave the cans, rain comes in steps
It’s dry season, why is nature crying?
Rooftop cocktails, sunset, day is dying.
Part X
I am not Lao, won’t ever be despite
Studying language, culture and the like
White skin, high nose, “You buy in Bangkok, right?”
Status, always noticed while on my bike
Holding umbrellas high monks in saffron
Sneak cigarettes, chat on their phones a lot
The pious drift off of the path they’re on
Then back again to chant pre dawn, tak bat (10)
You are not Lao, so tall, so fair, bearded
Can’t blend into a crowd or avoid stares
Unselfconscious, in touch with the real
Id Questions answered, comments spoken sans airs
We dance upon this earth in a strange land
To souls, eye open look for good in man.
10 The practice of Monks going on alms rounds to collect food and money from the faithful
Part XI
Savannakhet, Pakxong then Phoungasavan
Napong then left, eastward to Salavan
Swing south, Tad Lo, That Teng Nua rock on
Then Kongtayoung down 16 to Tad Fane
E-Tu, no stabbing coup, just waterfalls
A blacksmith pounds out knives in Nonsavad
Pakse, big city living: movies, malls
Thirteen, Thaluang bridge pit stop we laud
Don Khong, 4000 Islands here we go
From there Don Som the ending is in sight
Don Det, Don Khon connect o’er bridge ergo
Mekong below, red skies above alight
What’s next beyond Laos’ southern border eh?
North, south, east, west two wheels, forward I’ll pay.
Part XII
The Mother Kong took me into her depths
The current fought to keep me from dry land
The eddies twirled the brown nam up in jest
I paddled to Don Det’s soft beachy sand
Goodbyes are much too hard to say out loud
I prefer simply, “see you later then.”
The Mekong rushes past roaring so proud
Cambodia, take care of her, my friend
The dolphins number less than one percent
Of what once was a lively river pod
My heart, it aches for these majestic beasts
Where bombs and nets kill sacred water Gods
Whose time has come, it’s up, too soon for some
Whose line is done, no more, song fades to hum
