My Impressions of Laotian Women

By Li Guoping

I enter Laos via Vietnam. The immigration procedures are extremely simple since I have got my visa. I dont even need to worry about any language problem. The frontier inspectors can speak some Chinese.

The first thing I hear in Laos is “Hay, You, exchange money?” I turn and see a girl dressed in the way the girls are dressed in Vietnam. She is fully covered with only her forehead and eyes showing. Her eyes are focused on me. But I have already changed some money at the customs.

I take a motor ride from the customs to a border town. The town is so small that it has only one street lined by bungalows or bamboo houses. The last bus to Savannakhet left at 11 in the morning. So I need to stay here for a night. After unpacking at a small hotel, I come out and lounge under an umbrella of an outdoor bar at the hotel. Some money-changing girls sit around as there is no business. They are also fully covered from head to toe.

In the evening, I am drawn by loud music to an entertaining ground on a slope. There are barbecues and small games kiosks on one side. On the other side is a dancing ground flanked on four sides by restaurant tables. Men and women wine and dine at the tables. Most women wear sheath skirts, which make them look voluptuous and sexy. When music sounds, dancers form circles and dance face to face swinging their bodies to a slow-rhythm melody. The hands and feet move in a graceful way. I am enchanted. A young man encourages me to join. I am attempted but finally do not muster courage enough to join them.

The next morning I take a bus ride to Savannakhet. The bus is an old-style structure, with tight legroom. I sit tight. The rear of the bus is a space saved for hens, sheep and some black pigs. The bus groans and squeaks while animals give odd sounds.

The greens and yellows are the two primary colors I see mostly in Laos. Green trees tower over the yellow land. Bamboo houses, small or large, stand in the open land. The houses look soft. The bus takes me back to the past. It brings a sense of nostalgia to me better than an old black-white movie does.

The bus stops at a small village. Some passengers get off and some get on. I stretch and look around. Then I see the eyes of a girl. I thought I would never see eyes purer and more moving than the eyes of Mona Lisa, but the eyes of the young girl define purity, naturalness and sincerity. And the eyes have a sadness that I dont know how to describe. It is a girl at about 18, wearing long hair touching her shoulders. She is dressed in a traditional sheath skirt, with her feet and lower part of the legs naked. She sits on the edge of a bamboo house, her legs dangling and eyes looking to the horizon. She is motionless. Though with a swarthy complexion, she radiates an air of elegance and youth. I take up my camera but ultimately give up. I hate to disturb her world.

I arrive in Savannakhet, an ancient city of Laos. It has an air of ancient splendor and simplicity and quietness. There are no high rises and no city buses. The main transport tools are motorbikes and tricycles. On the other side of the Mekong River is Thailand. When the evening descends, I can hear insects buzzing. There are no conventional urban chaos and noise highlighted by neon lights. But the ancient city has some surprises for me. I see girls driving a motorbike with one hand on the handle bar and holding an umbrella in the other hand. I didnt see Vietnamese girls that cool even though Vietnam also has so many motorbikes and so withering sunshine.

Luang Prabang is the best city in Laos next only to Vientiane and Savannakhet. In April the city is a world of splashing water. Local residents splash water to fellow residents in celebration the upcoming New Year on the countrys traditional calendar. People here celebrate the big day by splashing water over people. My friends and I buy ourselves a mid-size water gun each and carry it with us everywhere. The guns are for self defense as well as for a sneak attack on others.

One day, we come to an outdoor bar on the Mekong River, with our water guns. We had beer and ask a waitress for water to fill our water guns. The girl carries a large pail of water to us, smiling from ear to ear. Before I figure out what is going to happen, the pail of water is pouring down our heads. Everyone in the bar burst into laughing. A fight breaks out. We cooperate, some finding a water source, some putting water into guns and some attacking the girl. Another girl joins the first attacker. They seize the tap and the hose. We are all out to attack. They scream and we laugh. Frustratingly, they surrender under our fierce attack and as soon as we turn our back, they splash water on us again. Finally we surrender to the naughty girls.

We pass the bar the next day and the girl who initiated the water-splashing war the day before smiles and gestures to us, asking if we will come back for another water-splashing fight that evening. We will not. We are leaving that day.□