Things that are good/I ate some brownies at work

A young woman walked into my bar tonight. She ordered a gin and tonic, which I fixed with an interlude in the bathroom to blow my nose--I've got a cold or I'm allergic to the little black and white cat who's been slinking around here--and took down an art book and slowly, silently, sipped and read for half an hour. I asked her if she wanted another one when she was finished and she said no. She good up about five minutes later and, smiling and self conscious, said, "Can I just say thanks?" and slapped her two hands down on the bar. "I came here and I was feeling shitty and then good drink, good read." She moved her hands the whole time. "And you played Broken Social Scene. Just, thanks."

"You're welcome. And I like your dress."

"Thanks." [Head bob, spin on heel.]

That is a thing that is good.

Some elephants walked past my house

get some

Traveling musicians. We love them.

Wednesday

Five pm. A woman tosses waste water from her house; the late, low sun lights it pink and red and glittering; an arc of precious stones for a long second tumbles across the street, into the gutter, down to the river.

Fortune telling

Last night a blonde hippie from Pittsburg did a tarot reading for me. We spread the cards on the wood floor upstairs and he began with the usual things young men say about women: this card says you're strong, you're a warrior queen; this one says you're spiritual; you have an old soul. Yawn. He flipped over half a dozen more cards: You're drifting. This way of life isn't exactly good for you, but it's what gives you power. It brings you creative power. You're in a pattern of constant dissipation of dreams--a big rush of energy, and then a slow ebbing away, like waves on the shore. Dismal, rather. He turned over a few more: You're going to keep traveling; you're not going to stop anytime too soon.  And then the last three:


Oh. And then, while you're traveling, you're going to meet a rich man and everything is going to change, just like that.

Ha. I don't know if this is the best tarot reading ever, or if I want to throw myself off a bridge because everything always seems to come back to "And then you'll meet a man with many goats, and you will be first wife, and your sons will be strong and tall."

But I suppose this is what you get from a 24 year old psuedo-saddhu from PA, for god's sake.

The Sinking Princess

The Sinking Princess is a boat, purchased for 850 dollars up on the Chinese border by three men (boys? the gray area is vast), two of whom came into my bar two nights ago. The American (from Vermont, the second Vermonter to pass through LPB this season) drank Beer Lao and by the end of the night had to be roused, loudly and forcibly, from the couch upstairs he'd snuck up to pass out on. The Frenchman drank pastis and didn't get nearly so drunk, but did disappear suddenly at the end of the night, leaving his friend to stumble down toward the Mekong and the boat alone.

But before last call came and I had to throw them out, they told me the story of the boat and made me very, very jealous. The American, I think, was the instigator. He crossed into the country from China and decided he wanted to do something different, to get off the tourist path, even the relatively lightly beaten Lao tourist path. He, I think, had the boat idea originally, and ended up advertising in a bar on the border for anyone who wanted to join in the adventure. The Frenchman and the other boat captain were the first to respond.

They then had a Lao person write "I want to buy a boat" in Lao on a piece of paper, which then passed around on the banks of the Mekong. The entire town got involved, as happens here, and in a few days they had purchased an old, long, flat bottom boat of the type you see up and down the Mekong. They tied it up on the bank and came out the next morning to find it full of water. Hence the moniker.

But they bailed it out and patched it up and set off down the goddamn Mekong river with a shitty map and an unreliable compass. Why, why have I never thought of this? (Aside from the fact that I've never travelled with a spare 800 bucks...but split between three people that's less than three hundred each...there were times I could have managed that.) They said they almost missed Luang Prabang--they just saw some buildings on the side of the river and thought they'd stop. I bought them each a drink and said I wanted to take a ride--but when I went out the next day, the motor wasn't running; the Vermonter and two Lao mechanics were squatted over it, prodding. I did get to wade in the river a bit, though, so all wasn't lost.

They didn't come in last night--I suspect they're already on their way south to Pakse and then Si Phan Don, the end of Laos. They're going to sell the boat again on border. Here's hoping they don't get sucked down over that big waterfall that leads into Cambodia.

So. Who wants to buy a boat?

Lao: Het/hate: mushroom
Khao bi-uhn: rice noodle soup
teacher (I think): ni koo.

Things I have been meaning to research and write about: illegal logging, laos's debt to vietnam, laos joining the wto. Someone scold me already and make me get to work.