Lost in Translation

Luang Prabang is an easy city to get lost in… it’s a city you want to get lost in. The century’s old former royal capital is one of those cities that exude a kind of tranquil aesthetic beauty that leaves you feeling sort of dreamy, very much at peace, and all together blessed. I’m reminded of Kyoto, Japan, but instead of Shinto temples and Zen gardens, this city is adorned with Buddhist temples, cobbled alleys, and French colonial architecture. It’s a photogenic sort of town.

…

This afternoon I found myself ducking out of a handicraft shop, once more thwarting this city’s ability to innocently empty your wallet, and noticed a temple across the street that I hadn’t seen when I’d entered the shop.

It’s Sunday and the temple grounds of Wat Wisunalat are quiet… the odd pair of monks stroll about in their orange robes, but no vendors or tourists are to be seen. Rounding the corner to the backside of the central temple, I come upon the 3 simple wooden buildings that are the monks’ quarters.

Two monks, maybe early twenties, are sitting on the porch of one building… their legs casually swinging off the edge. As I walk by, they pause their chat and turn their gaze my way. I wave and greet them with, “Sabai-dii.” (hello)

They both reply with smiles and “Sabai-dii.” Then the fellow on the left asks, “How are you?”

Slightly surprised by the well phrased English, I approach them and reply, “Very good. How are you?”

“Okay,” he says, and, “okay” says his friend. The two of them wiggle apart and pat the open space on the porch that is now between them. I smile, dip my head, and plop myself between Buun Ping of Pak Mong and Khao of Luang Nam Tha.

The extent of my Lao vocabulary being “Hello,” “Thank You,” “Yes,” “No,” and “Beer Lao?” we start conversing in English. Their English is humblingly good…

Buun Ping: “You Japanese?”
Me: “Very good guess, but no I am American. My mother is Japanese though.”
Buun Ping: “No, you do not look all Japanese.”
Khao: “Nihongo o hansemasuka?”
Me: [stunned] “Woh… sukoshi, sukoshi. So you speak Japanese?”

…he asked if I speak Japanese and I replied a little, a little…

Khao: “Sukoshi. I like Japanese.”
Me: “Do you speak any other languages?”
Khao: “Thai, Chinese, and some French.”
Me: “My word… and you, Buun Ping, do you speak any other languages?”
Buun Ping: “Nooo… only Lao.”
Me: “And English. You speak English very well.”
Buun Ping: [smiling] “Ai… nooo. But thank you. Do you know other language?”
Me: “Me? No… I’m American.”
Buun Ping: “Eh?”
Me: “Most Americans only know English. It is quite sad.”
Khao: “You can learn Lao… it is easy.”
Me: “Oh, I don’t know if it is easy. I think I will try to learn more Japanese first.”

Khao: "What is this?" [asks while pointing to my right arm]
Me: "It's a tattoo."
Both: "Really?!?" [and curiously, both poke the dark skin on my arm]
Buun Ping: "What it for?"
Me: "It's a reminder."
Buun Ping: "A remin..?"
Me: "Sorry. A reminder. It helps me remember a good friend. Somone who died."
Both: "Ohhh..." [and both, not so curiously, but carefully now, touch the dark skin on my arm]

Buun Ping: “How old are you?”
Me: “How old do you think I am?”
Buun Ping: [squinting, head angled sideways] “Maybe… 30?”
Me: “Ohhh… do I look so old?”
Khao: “I think 25.”
Me: “Very close. I am 26.”
Both: something in Lao… then laughter.
Me: “How old are you two?”
Khao: “You guess.”
Buun Ping: “Yes, guess.”
Me: “Okay… Buun Ping, I think you are… 21. And you Khao… maybe 23.”
Both: “Wahhh!” [and hysterics]
Me: “Okay, okay… how old then?”
Buun Ping: “I am 19 and Khao is 18.”
Me: “Wow… I am the old man here.”
Both: [snickers, knee slapping, and rocking on bums]

We go on like this for nearly an hour. At one point I ask them if I am keeping them from some place they’re supposed to be. They explain that today is Sunday and they have no school today…

Buun Ping: “We wake up 4 o’clock. Do some chore, then pray. 5:30 we go collect alms on main street (alms are a daily donation of a small amount of food or money from the local Buddhist community members). 6 o’clock we eat breakfast, then we clean.”
Me: “What do you clean?”
Buun Ping: “Clean buildings, sweep grounds, and wash robe. After, we pray again then go to school.”
Me: “What do you learn in school?”
Buun Ping: “Buddhist teachings, mostly Buddhist Teachings.”
Me: “So usually you are in school right now.”
Buun Ping: “Yes, but today no school. We can study on own, read, or just talk with other monk.”
Me: “or funny Americans.”
Buun Ping: “Yes [chuckling], or talk with Tim.”

Khao and Buun Ping explain more about their days, how long they’ve been at the monastery (1 year a piece), how long they will stay (neither is sure), and what they want to do after their time in the monastery.

Buun Ping: “Not sure what I want to do. Maybe study and teach.”
Me: “What do you want to study?”
Buun Ping: “I like study religion, maybe.”
Khao: “I like to study science, then maybe doctor. What you study?”
Me: “Well I finished university in 2002...”
Both: “Woh… 2002?!?”
Me: “Yes, yes… it has been a little while. I studied engineering.”
Khao: “And you are engineer now?”
Me: “Well I wa… yes, I worked as an engineer for 3 years.”
Khao: “And now what you do?”
Me: “Well… not much right now. But I am thinking that I may study some more, like you. Maybe in 2 or 3 years.”
Buun Ping: “Engi…”
Me: “Yes, maybe engineering. But maybe ‘doctor’, or maybe ‘nurse’, or maybe ‘physiotherapy, or maybe ‘teaching.’ I don’t know right now.
Khao: “That okay.”
Buun Ping: “Yes. I not really know either.”
Me: [smiling] “Thank you for that.”

So the three of us sat and chatted more, and really, the only reason we stopped was that I had to pee real bad and needed to duck into a café. I thanked the two of them - I think I might have even blushed for they were monks and for some reason it made me blush - and they thanked me. So I strode away, briskly ‘cause of my bladder, but with a glow for reasons that are obvious.

Building front in some random alley.

Nightly street market.
Paper umbrellas at night market.
Back entrance to a cafe.
Fell in love with photographing doors... not sure why.
Cafe in morning light.
Novice monks collecting alms.
Novice monk kind enough to let me take his photo.