You are my Fire

You are my fire

The one desire Believe when I say
I want it that way

But we are two worlds apart
Can't reach to your heart
When you say
That I want it that way

Chiang Kong, Thailand - Huay Xai, 7/9/11

It's 1am at Hanoi Karaoke Bar in Huay Xai, Laos and two dozen Lao teens are wondering why one short, bearded foreigner is ruining their Saturday night with a tone deaf, fingernails-on-the-chalkboard rendition of the Backstreet Boys' "I Want it That Way."

Well, the selection was slim -- the only other English songs I could find were "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls, "Every Breath You Take" by the Police, and "Material Girl" by Madonna. And "That Way" has some sort of brilliance in its ability to top the charts despite lyrics and a harmony that could have been composed by a basset hound.


Plus, once the song ends, the locals are so impressed that they toast me with their Beer Laos. Or maybe they're just happy for the song to be over and their eardrums to stop bleeding.

***

Wade and I have taken the ferry from Chiang Kong, Thailand to Huay Xai, Laos, passing through a surprisingly open and casual border crossing stop, which implores visitors to "please stop at immigration." We drop our bags and grab two Beer Laos, stronger and hoppier than the Thai brews and dine outside at a local restaurant. We first stop by a barbeque restaurant which earlier in the night was grilling about two dozen ducks. We sit down and the waiter first tells us, "Sorry no more duck, but we have barbequed beef and pork." No problem, we'll have one of each. He comes back a couple minutes later and announces, "no more pork." No problem, we'll just have beef. He comes back a third time to announce "no more beef." No problem, we'll dine elsewhere.

We settle on a small picnic table next to a large rectangular charcoal grill and each order half chickens, bathed in turmeric, and then roughly chopped with a cleaver. We eat with our hands, dipping the chicken pieces into a blisteringly hot chili sauce. The meat is perfect -- greasy, smoky, and juicy. Second course is water buffalo skewers, small pieces of meat, cooked to oblivion with the consistency and flavor of shoe leather. Third are freshly grilled prawn skewers; they have quite delicious flavor although the texture is unfortunately gummy.

Our table is joined by a friendly Lao local, who spends the first ten minutes pushing opium, weed, and cocaine. Upon getting rejected, he moves on to Lao prostitutes. "Only 40,000Kip [$5]" he claims. We kindly turn him down and he quickly retorts, "ok, ok, I get it. I know you don't like Lao women. That's fine. Beautiful French girl. Your dreams will come true! Same price. Did I mention she's French?!" Well, I guess we're seeing Lao's French colonial influence near immediately upon crossing the border. And I appreciate globalization, but the answer is still the same.

Laos whiskey infused with dead snakes. Supposedly liquid caffeine and liquid Viagra

***

On our way back from karaoke, Wade and I get completely lost, and are nearly eaten by salivating stray dogs before finally making it back to our hostel. We head to bed, a bit tipsy, satiated, prostitute-free, with Backstreet Boys serenading us to sleep.