Vignettes from my trip to Thailand and Laos

One of my favourite accounts on BlueSky is George Penney (@georgepenney.bsky.social). She writes these beautiful vignettes of every day life in Aoteoroa.

So, instead of an epic travel journal, here's some vignettes of the trip.

They're not in chronological order. They also feature interactions with people during my trip. Turns out, not a surprise, that these are the moments I treasure.

Sheltering from the rain

It's the rainy season, we were in Vang Vieng, Laos and I'd got myself ready to head out the door. Only the storm clouds were gathering. I thought I had 15 mins to get somewhere, enough time according to google maps. Instead I walked only 2 mins down the road and noticed that it the road ahead of me was wet.

I've found that monsoon rain can have these sorts of sharp edges, but I hoped I still had a bit of time. Turns out I didn't.

As the first drops hit I jumped under an awning where some Laos people were standing. They couldn't tell me how long it might last, but we all knew I'd be drenched, and so they offered me a chair to wait it out.

The rain crashed overhead for 25 mins, very heavy. I was glad to be under the tin roof, watching a local puppy, the family and thanking the granny for the use of her chair.

I'd like to think this sort of thing would happen anywhere in the world, but perhaps its easier to offer where there is a rain season, and where the interloper is a friendly looking white woman who speaks some of the local lingo.

Who knows? Whichever way it was a lovely moment in a strange place, but one in which the generosity felt familiar.

Flirting in Thai in Luang Prabang

Walking through a locals street in the evening, past some bars, I hear "Tuk tuk?", the standard call from the tuk tuk drivers to foreigners walking around. All very polite, they're just asking, not pushing.

I respond "Mai ow, ka" (I don't want, thanks).

Mr Tuktuk laughs in delight as that's a funny thing for a Laos person to hear from me, repeats what I said with a chuckle. Then looks at me and says: "Ow kon Laos mai?"

It takes me a few moments to realise we're flirting and he's just asked if I want him instead.

I smile laugh, say, a bit cheekily, "Mai ow" (I don't want). He laughs, I smile and keep walking, delighted by that small moment of fun.

Second lunch, coz why not

I decided to try and hunt down a kanom krok place in Talad Noi that was featured on Opal's Story (a REALLY good Thai food appreciation youtube channel. Can recommend).

I hailed a tuk tuk from my hotel in Chinatown and after talking down the price we were on our way. The tuk tuk ride through the streets was awesome, as always. Such a fun way to travel through the narrow alleys.

Sadly the kanom krok place was closed for the holidays, so I started walking, it was only 20 mins back to aircon and a shower. The first place I found was a duck shop. I'd already had a noodle soup for lunch, but realised I was still hungry and when in Thailand, have two lunches!

It was glorious!! So glad I stopped. Chinese spiced duck, stewed for hours, then they cooked it in a garlic black pepper sauce over rice. The duck was tasty, the garlic was crispy and the black pepper sauce was surprisingly perfect.

The moral of this story - there's nothing wrong with second lunch when you're traversing through the back streets of Bangkok.

Walking around the temple with Auntie

In Thailand start of the rains retreat is celebrated with a practice of walking around the local temple three times, which is quite a nice thing overall. This was happening on the day I visited Wat Pho, so I made time to join in.

I found the place, and prepared 20 baht to buy flowers, incense and a candle. Since I wasn't quite sure if I would be acceptable, I tried to wait until someone saw me put the money in the box, but it took a while. Finally an auntie put her cash in at the same time as me, so I had a witness. In thanks I passed her some incense, a candle and a flower.

She then watched me "do it wrong" by lighting my incense too early. At which point she took me under her wing and we walked together and prayed together. It was lovely. She made sure I knew how many times to go around, and exactly where to bow, where to light the candle and the incense and where to put all the things. She took me to the buddha statue for prayers and to apply gold leaf. At the end she gave me her own blessing, which was really nice.

The auntie didn't need to do this for me, but I think we both had a better day because of it. She was certainly smiling as much as I was. It's what I love about this place, when I try I am encouraged and included, and people seem delighted that I am trying, not just . I leave my embarrassment at the door and just get involved. Not a tourist, a visitor.

Translating in the Chinese noodle shop

Every time I go to Bangkok I stay in its Chinatown, Yaowarat. That was also true of this trip. This is the gwaytieu (noodles) centre in Bangkok, and a bowl of gwaytieu is a joy. When I was at school in Thailand I ate a bowl of freshly made noodles every day, and sandwiches became very boring on my return to Australia. So, once I checked in at my hotel, I headed out for lunch.

A quick scan showed me an option across the road. Great choice, it was a style of gwaytieu I hadn't tried before: crispy noodles with some pork balls, spicy dressing and bean sprouts. They also had sweet roti, and the local herbal cordial drink. One of my favourite meals of the entire trip.

As I was eating, a large group of French uni students showed up. I signaled to the staff and moved to a different table so they could sit together. Next thing these students were moving the tables around (a massive no-no in Thai food shops, you ask and the owners do it for you) and blocking the kitchen. They were rather loud and not really paying attention. Then they started to ask questions about the menu. As I could see the staff didn't understand I offered to translate. We worked through "could the dumplings be in a soup" - no. "Could the dry noodles have soup added?" - no. "I really like soup" - this is the only option.

Eventually the staff and I were sharing very small bemused smiles with each other. It was a very not-Thai approach to the space. Despite the smiles though we all tried to help the students get good food. Yet another thing I like about the culture, you can be outside the norms of behaviour and Thais will still try to understand how they can help.

Pineapple fried rice guy

This anecdote happens in the Chiang Mai Friday night market.

It turns out my tour group isn't into food. Which has been a sadness, I wanted to share my enthusiasm with someone and have a bunch of people to share food with so we could try various things and eat well together. Instead I have an anxious vegetarian who won't eat anything outside a reputable restaurant, someone allergic to coconut, and three Americans who don't share plates.

On this particular evening I'd taken myself by tuk tuk to the Chiang Mai market, and was trying to work out how to eat something worthwhile, on my own. I stumbled across the pineapple fried rice vendor. Thai pineapple is so sweet and juicy. Its one of my favourite things to eat while I am here. Jackpot!!

The vendor was chatty, so we had a great natter while he was cooking. The rice was amongst the best I've ever eaten, and it was a delight to sit in the rain, holding the pineapple and scooping out the fried rice, watching all the other vendors prepare their dishes.

The whole experience revived my spirit. Sadly, pineapple friend rice is now ruined, it will never be as good as this. Just means I'll have to go back I suppose!

Mrs Mekong Boat teaching me Laos

The first two days in Laos was spent on a boat cruising down the Mekong River. We were looked after by the boat's family, providing lunch and a hot drink in the morning.

On day two Mrs Mekong Boat had worked out I spoke Thai and was trying to speak Lao, so when she handed me my coffee she repeated the Lao words for thank you, in the same way you would a child to whom you are trying to teach manners.

Looking directly at me as starts to pass the coffee, I have my hand on the saucer:
"Khob jai" she say
"Khob jai" I repeat. She still holds the saucer
"Lai lai"
"Lai lai". I smile, she gently nods, satisfied and releases the saucer.

This is how I learnt Thai as well, when the people in my community could see I was trying they'd help me build vocabulary gently, kindly and firmly.

Sitting in the White temple, drawing

Wat Nang Rong in Chiang Rai is not your usual Thai buddhist temple. Its a new style, painted by a famous Thai artist, and so no photos are allowed inside the main temple hall.

I don't usually take sketch materials into a temple, but since we couldn't take photos this time I did. I was a little nonplussed at the many visitors walking through, not really understanding what they were seeing, and was feeling a bit rushed by all of the hub bub, so I found a piece of the artwork that I could copy.

Sitting to one side I pulled out my note pad and a pencil and slowly sketched out half of a lotus on the wall. It was really calming to sit there, checking my work against the original, trying to understand the geometry and the artistry.

The crowd flowed around me, and some people stopped to watch. It was nice to engage with this art form again, but also I was a great way to connect with that place in the midst of the crowd of people also on a tour, walking through because it was on their list.

This choice was prompted by a dinner a week previously. My beloved Thai art teacher found out I was in town and insisted on treating me to dinner. He is a sweetheart and I was so happy to see him. 80+ years old and still going strong. He heard I was heading to Chiang Rai and specifically mentioned this temple as a place to go. Sitting and drawing was a way to remember the peacefulness I had a few decades ago when I would sit outside his class room drawing flower borders and figures from the Ramayana.

A conversation in a fabric store

It was the last day in Laos. My tour group had departed to other places, but I had an extra day to bumble around. By this stage I was a little over the group, it turns out that whilst their culture shock was Laos, mine was them. I've come to realise on this trip, that I am a visitor to these countries, not a tourist, and there is a difference. So, to be surrounded by tourists for 12 days had worn me a bit thin.

On this last day I headed to a silk shop recommended by our tour guide, trying to hunt for the elusive red weaving on a black background (I found it).

I was sorting through various fabric samples when I heard the other patron in the shop speaking with the shop owner in fluent Lao, without much of an accent. This was delightful as she was also of European ancestry, and it's very uncommon to hear someone that looks like us speak these languages without an accent.

I expressed my delight, and we got talking. It was a great meeting of two people who love this place, and respect the cultures. We talked about fabrics, about being visitors and not tourists, about learning a tonal language, and the difficulties in bringing people we know to this place that is so special. It was a boost to my mood to know that at least one other person "gets it".