Laos Pitiable Docile Retards

I swear I ordered a drink, but it’s been twenty minutes now and I’ve only just been given a table mat, on which knife and fork will presumably reside in due course. “Excuse me, I ordered a Coffee?”, I ask the passing waiter and after a lengthy pause and vacant expression, “Oh”, he replies and wanders off; slowly, dragging his feet. There are two things you’ll need in order to survive the Laos rollercoaster ride, which never achieves more than exactly 0.0G and has a straight, flat path travelling at the pace of a Tortoise. One that’s recently eaten an entire crop of Cannabis plants.

The first is an incredible sense of humour. Ignore the first four stages and jump straight to acceptance; there’s no point doing what the couple to my left just did. They hit stage two first and in anger, complained about the half hour wait for food. This is Laos, that’s how they roll here; it’s like the whole population is stoners, using the strongest skunk, and losing all mental ability to remember the simplest of things. Look Mister Waiter, you took the order and wrote it down; is it really that difficult to remember two items, seriously? Ah fair enough, the place is packed full and you’re understaffed. Only that it’s not and there are more staff than customers. More heads are better – not here they ‘aint.

Secondly you need patience. Shift and F7 on that word just to elaborate some more: Endurance, tolerance, persistence, fortitude and serenity. There, that’ll do it. Or go find somewhere selling some hash shakes and make a habit of it – either is fine. Wonderful, my waiter has returned – still no drink, but this time he’s brought a napkin; the guy’s a complete bloody genius.

As is my usual form, I shall digress briefly. A few days back, I made the mistake of asking a local for directions; one which I won’t make again in a hurry. Showing my map and pointing in an overstated way to the floor, I then pointed to the map and circled, followed by shrugging my shoulders. He looked at me blankly for what seemed like a minute, and then took attention to the map. Slowly drawing his pointing finger, he trawled it over the map randomly, every now and then muttering a questioning “Ahh” or “Ooh”. Reading the odd place name aloud, he continued still, whilst I repeated my original query – this time I elaborated by pointing at a building and then to something similar on the map as a point of reference. Stuck in the movie Groundhog Day, this process was repeated four times, before I gave up, said thank you and left. After a dozen steps I turned around, and observed the man still stood, stuck in the repeating timeline. Indeed, this is typical behaviour – I jest not.

Sat contemplating I’m wondering whether it’s the education system (or apparent lack of), a job shortage, or maybe just something in the water; Rohipnal perhaps. I’m definitely feeling stupid for having had my bag nicked, and lethargic having to fit in with the local’s timing. Ah, he’s back, this time with my Fish and Chips (I’m sticking with basics till I’m over the food poisoning.) Excellent; I’m starving. There’s a problem though, I’ve no knife and fork. “Ah”, he says and meanders off again; go Einstein, go, you can do it. Monosyllabic Type IIs must love this place – they won’t even need to learn the language; grunting suffices.

I’ll use my hands; I’m too hungry to wait for cutlery. This is clearly not a “falang sized” portion though; in fact it reminds me of MaccyDs. I am sat looking at a handful of Fries that taste like they’re manufactured from sawdust and cardboard, and five fish “nuggets” that I genuinely think may be Goldfish fillets. Either way I now finally have my drink too. All for the bargain price of sixty-five grand; that’s a fiver. I only wish I’d converted back in Thailand; if I was Buddhist, I’d be accumulating some serious Karma points to trade in for prizes.