Vang Vieng, Laos: One Too Many — Missives from Abroad

Sometimes it feels right to have one too many: spiked fruit smoothies, sing-alongs to Taylor Swift songs, or nights spent in a smelly dorm room with new friends.

In this way, Vang Vieng reminds me of your favorite college dive bar. Sure, it’s got a few charms like a foosball table, creeper-less dance floor, or cheap Long Island iced teas. But it’s janky, with duct tape on bar stools and dirty bathroom graffiti. The main reason you go—and continue indulging—is because you and your friends always have a little too much fun there.

Vang Vieng, as a city, is pretty gross. It’s hard to find a good meal, and there’s not much to do besides book a bar hopping tube or kayak ride down the river.

Vang Vieng, as a region, is simply pretty. It’s charms include a few challenging hikes, mountain motorbike loops, and waterfalls. There’s even yoga to be found!

Visiting Vang Vieng wasn’t intellectually stimulating nor relaxing. But it was beautiful and joyful and shared with friends. Maybe it was a little too much, but it felt like just enough.

All the love you won’t forget

I wish somebody would have told me, babe
That someday, these will be the good old days
All the love you won't forget
And all these reckless nights you won't regret
Cause someday soon, your whole life's gonna change
You'll miss the magic of these good old days

-Macklemore & Kesha, "Good Old Days"

Not long after we left Laos, Macklemore’s new album dropped, and I (and probably every radio DJ back home) became obsessed with his collaboration with Kesha, “Good Old Days.” I sat on many busses listening to it on repeat, thinking about the life I left in Wisconsin and how to design my future when I return to the US. But mostly, I thought about the present moments with Avi, Zen, Kahn, Ellie, Marshall, and of course, Louise. I could recognize the magic of the good old days as they were happening.

I won’t forget how our kayaking guides sing-song meow-ed at me all the way down the Nam Song River. I knew “Mel” meant “cat” in Thai, but apparently my name also means cat in Laos and Vietnam. This was hilarious to the Asian people we met, and everyone howled my name in between riverside bar stops. A Chinese couple kayaking alongside us got so into it—the meowing and the recklessness—that they capsized. The wife (who couldn’t swim and thus needed a serious rescue) was so upset with the husband that she refused to get into the same kayak as him, forcing our guides to usher them back to town separately.

I won’t forget how we all piled into Louise’s bed to watch Mean Girls after a dehydrating day in the sun. Watching Avi watch this Tina Fey comedy for the first time was so delightful. Since English is not his first language, he was thrilled to understand the jokes. It’s hard to pick a favorite line myself, but a newly relevant one to this trip is, “If you’re from Africa, why are you white?” “Oh my god, Karen, you can’t just ask someone why they’re white.” But a lot of Thai, Laotian, and Vietnamese women have asked me this, inquiring about what products I use to make my skin so translucently pale. It’s uncomfortable for many reasons, but I laugh and simply say, “sunscreen.”

I won’t forget how I drove a motorbike by myself for the first time, navigating backroads and water-drenched gravel. I felt like I was 16 again and had finally passed my driver’s test. But mud was our collective and literal downfall. Louise and Avi spun out after a particularly muddy section, and I was so stunned following them that I slammed on my breaks and fell over, too. No major damage occurred, except to Louise’s ego.

I won’t forget how I took Avi to his first yoga class, and how he accompanied me to my first acro-yoga class. Even though I’ve been practicing yoga for more than five years, I was intimidated to try this partner-based class where I’d be suspended in the air. It’s like doing highly technical trust falls. And it would be Avi’s second yoga class ever. I hoped he would catch me (and it wouldn’t be a Gretchen/Karen trust fall situation from Mean Girls). With the help of our instructors, he did.

I won’t forget our family dinner at Peeping Som's. Zen, Avi, and I opted for a Laotian hot pot, spicy green papaya salad, and Beer Lao. As we grilled our own seafood, Zen regaled us with the story of how his parents met. His father, an American funk singer, toured Japan with his band. Zen’s mom went to his show. They started a two-year letter-writing love affair from opposite sides of the world and eventually got married, settling in LA’s Korea-town. Zen speaks Japanese, Korean, and LA cool.

I won’t forget kicking our feet in the Blue Lagoon as we all discussed desserts. Louise and I listened to Kahn and Ellie explain how to make the perfect cheesecake (apparently, you don't bake it?!), and we tried explaining to these Londoners the magic of a s’more. Our imitations of Ellie's sassy, three-point snap punctuated every story.

I won’t forget how we all danced and sang and laughed everywhere we went. I’ll miss the magic of these good old days.