Laos Isn’t Thailand

Despite a similar language, similar food, and a similar history, Laos reminded us every day that it wasn’t the country we’d come from. No traffic! No cell phones (well, hardly any)! No convenience stores!

I especially liked the small differences in the temple styles. In the north we saw mosaics on the temples walls that reminded me of primitive folk art. Roofs sprouted the classic little horns at the corners, like in Thailand, but sometimes also featured a kind of cock’s comb at the very top.

After dinner one night a few of us decided to check out the night life. We weren’t sure what we’d find, but we were pretty certain it wouldn’t be a trendy club or a rooftop bar of the kind on offer in Bangkok. Our young, hip Lao guide recommended a spot she said was the hottest in town. In fact she had brought along a special outfit, hoping to go there herself.

At the door we were frisked. Once inside, it took us a few minutes to adjust to the gloom. Suddenly the mirrored ball started turning, and the spotlights focused in on a row of elderly gentlemen in white shirts, slinging electric guitars. Louis Louis! Staying Alive! Light my Fire!

Surrounded by more funk and disco than I’ve heard since my last high school dance, we partied hardy till at least … 9:30, when it seemed like maybe the musicians were starting to think about their bedtimes.