Laos is the land of public grooming. I really think people here actually stop themselves from, say, extracting their blackheads in the privacy of their own bathrooms and pack up and take the show on the road on purpose. Everywhere you turn there's solo, amateur blemish detonation, tandem nose picking, turn-by-turn plucking of various errant hairs. I saw a pedicure--but the nasty bits, not the artistic application of color--happening in the middle of the night market as I went to get my evening baguette.
So if I come home and casually ask you to, say, dig out some weird thing in my ear as we brunch, remember that I'm not insane. I've just been in the Lao sun too long.
Oh, and a ps: a young Norwegian couple came into the bar last night. A) Why aren't we all living in Norway? B) They both looked like me. It was weird. I guess we Vikings all look alike.
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