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I lived in Laos in the late 70's/Early 80's. Even with full use of the diplomatic pouch, a letter to the US and back was a 3-month round trip, with only a ~80%

I lived in Laos in the late 70's/Early 80's. Even with full use of the diplomatic pouch, a letter to the US and back was a 3-month round trip, with only a ~80% success rate. We'd learned to send one, then its carbon copy with the next bag, just in case. Phoning home was utterly impossible. The only cable line back was a fax machine the size of a refrigerator that went straight to the State Department, and was the only room guarded by stern men with guns. (the slightly more disposable diplomats themselves had only local, unarmed security to pick from. This was a non-trivial risk- while we were there, the Japanese ambassador and his wife were both murdered. Perhaps surprisingly to some in modern times, Americans were pretty well received by the local population. It was safer for us to go shopping than, say, the French, Russians, or Japanese, although it was still too much of a risk for me to go to a local school. The Australians were the most popular, although I strongly suspect this was also linked to them having a nice swimming pool that they shared with everyone.) The only doctor we had access to was a retired, somewhat eccentric Swedish veterinarian who specialized in pigs, and pigs were pretty close to people for most things. (He kept a copy of Playboar on his office reception table.) And finally, I remember getting chased through the metal detector (they didn't really care about guns, for the most part. It was people trying to carry durian in an enclosed space that really pissed them off) by a scared water buffalo in the airport, which then proceeded to run around on the airstrip for an hour until the local kid from the farm it came from hopped on his back and rode him home. Of course, nowadays I can pull up any of half a dozen free webcams and see who is strolling down the streets near where I once lived. It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet I'm barely in my mid-40's as it is. Things sure do change fast.

stef25 8y ago
Parents of a friend of mine were Swedish diplomats in Vientiane in the 70s, apparently the world of expats there at the time was very small? It must have been magical (communist dictatorship aside). Laotians to me always seem even happier than the Thais. On a packed bus ride in Laos full of dirt poor locals, a few chickens and tied up pigs, there was a guy in the back having a shouting conversation with the driver in the front. They were enjoying it a lot. Other passengers started to chuckle along, you could tell there was a crescendo building. Eventually the conversation ended in an explosion of rapturous laughter from everyone on the bus. It was impossible not to laugh along despite not having a clue what it was all about. Looking around you'd see nothing but huge smiles, all black teeth from beetle nut. There's dozens of these little moments I'll never forget.
- Baeocystin 8y ago
  >apparently the world of expats there at the time was very small? Small is a bit of an understatement! All of us (Americans, Russians, and everyone in-between) were restricted to a few square miles in the middle of Vientiane. And if you weren't attached to an embassy in some manner, you weren't there, period. This does make me ponder, it is almost certain that my folks knew your friend's parents. Small world. // This was during the time when any Laotian who had any kind of education or wealth was desperately trying to leave the country before they got 're-educated' by a bullet to the head. The Vietnamese moved in shortly after the Pathet Lao victory, and the witch-hunt was brutal. There is a reason there were zero local doctors available for anyone. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pathet_Lao https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pathet_Lao As grim as this was, it also contrasted strongly with memories like you describe- an incredible degree of friendliness from most folks, even when at the time non-Lao were so rare in country that whenever we went outside, it was guaranteed that for most folks we'd met that day, we were probably the first caucasians they'd ever seen. During the water festival, it was hard to go outside, because everyone wanted to soak us, and it was all in good fun- they wanted to make sure we got to join in, and didn't feel left out. One final vignette to share. A few times over the years we were there, when out at market with my Mom, a shop/stall owner would come over and (politely) pull us aside, and out of the crowd. Shortly after we would see ex-NVA or other bad news men looking for foreigners to take their aggressions out on. The shop owners were local people who were quite literally risking their lives, just to make sure that the odd-looking big-nosed people they'd never met before weren't hurt. That level of consideration was omnipresent, even with the background conflict in play. And that is the way I choose to remember my time in Laos.

stef25 8y ago

Parents of a friend of mine were Swedish diplomats in Vientiane in the 70s, apparently the world of expats there at the time was very small? It must have been magical (communist dictatorship aside). Laotians to me always seem even happier than the Thais. On a packed bus ride in Laos full of dirt poor locals, a few chickens and tied up pigs, there was a guy in the back having a shouting conversation with the driver in the front. They were enjoying it a lot. Other passengers started to chuckle along, you could tell there was a crescendo building. Eventually the conversation ended in an explosion of rapturous laughter from everyone on the bus. It was impossible not to laugh along despite not having a clue what it was all about. Looking around you'd see nothing but huge smiles, all black teeth from beetle nut. There's dozens of these little moments I'll never forget.

Baeocystin 8y ago
>apparently the world of expats there at the time was very small? Small is a bit of an understatement! All of us (Americans, Russians, and everyone in-between) were restricted to a few square miles in the middle of Vientiane. And if you weren't attached to an embassy in some manner, you weren't there, period. This does make me ponder, it is almost certain that my folks knew your friend's parents. Small world. // This was during the time when any Laotian who had any kind of education or wealth was desperately trying to leave the country before they got 're-educated' by a bullet to the head. The Vietnamese moved in shortly after the Pathet Lao victory, and the witch-hunt was brutal. There is a reason there were zero local doctors available for anyone. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pathet_Lao https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pathet_Lao As grim as this was, it also contrasted strongly with memories like you describe- an incredible degree of friendliness from most folks, even when at the time non-Lao were so rare in country that whenever we went outside, it was guaranteed that for most folks we'd met that day, we were probably the first caucasians they'd ever seen. During the water festival, it was hard to go outside, because everyone wanted to soak us, and it was all in good fun- they wanted to make sure we got to join in, and didn't feel left out. One final vignette to share. A few times over the years we were there, when out at market with my Mom, a shop/stall owner would come over and (politely) pull us aside, and out of the crowd. Shortly after we would see ex-NVA or other bad news men looking for foreigners to take their aggressions out on. The shop owners were local people who were quite literally risking their lives, just to make sure that the odd-looking big-nosed people they'd never met before weren't hurt. That level of consideration was omnipresent, even with the background conflict in play. And that is the way I choose to remember my time in Laos.