Beginning of a New Life

On the journey to Vientiane I went to sleep many times. I would wake up quickly, and knew that I was aware, but I didn’t know where I was. Suddenly I opened my eyes. Strangely, everything that I saw was changed. “That’s not my house any more,” I thought while I was sitting next to my mother and my dad. I turned around and looked at other people. I found that some were asleep, some woke up, and some ate something. Beautifully, the sun had risen from the bottom of the mountain outside the bus. My other sisters woke up and glanced past the bus window to observe where we were. The bus ran faster and faster.

Later, the bus stopped and we sat for about one hour. Then my eye was wondering again. In front of the bus window, I looked outside and saw many people walking around. It looked so crowded. Many cars ran along the street, and there were many tall white, yellow, and green buildings along the two sides of the street. “What are these?” I immediately asked my mother, who was sitting next to me. “Those are houses with many floors” she answered. “Do you think they might be broken because they are too tall?” I asked her. “No, they are too strong” she answered me with a little smile. I turned around to my sisters and discussed about what we saw. But I was not interested in talking to other people, no matter how they looked at us.

I was so excited because that was the first time that I had seen the capital of Vientiane. The bus stopped at the Morning Market (Talat Sao) bus station, my parents caught my hands and my sisters out of the bus and took the Tuk Tuk, which looks like a small car but has three wheels. We have many of them in Laos.

It took about 30 minutes to get to my cousin’s house. Then I saw a woman about forty years old with curly hair smile at us in friendly manner. She was standing together with her children. She was my cousin. So, we stopped at the gate of the house, which was made of wood. Later, my cousin invited us inside the house. We lived at her house before we could one of our own. I couldn’t sleep for three days because it was noisy, crowded, and it was a new environment for me, which was why I had many problems.

To be continued…

05:54 PM ICT Permalink |

Moving to Vientiane

One year passed, and the weather had changed. There was torrential rain again in my village, and our rice fields were flooded. We didn’t have anything to eat. If we stayed there, we might die because many villagers fought against each other to get food. “If we wanted to survive, we must leave” my parents said. So, my father decided to move to the capital of Vientiane. He made a boat for that trip. He took us all together, along with food, clothes, and our small monkey, to the boat.

We were so excited to live in the new city because I had heard about Vientiane, where there were many high buildings, old temples, and lots of cars…. but I never had chance to touch it before this time. Therefore, we prepared for our new life in Vientiane. Along the two sides of the Saybangfai River, I had seen many things. For example, there were 10 to 15 monkeys screaming in their loud voices and parrots were caught on the trees, which made my small monkey felt excited about that atmosphere.

When the boat reached the destination, the sun was setting, and we took everything, including my best friend, the small monkey, out of the boat. We waited for about ten minutes for the bus to come. When the bus arrived my other sisters and brothers walked to the bus, but my parents and I stayed outside. I hugged my monkey while my parents were talking to the bus driver, but I didn’t know what they are taking about. Suddenly, my father walked over to me and told me that we couldn’t take the monkey with us. The bus driver was not permitted to take animals on the bus he said. My tears were falling automatically when I heard him say that. My small monkey looked at my father. It seemed like he understood what he had said. I cried and my monkey screamed.

Then, my father took my small monkey and sold him to an old fat man who stood in front of the mini market. I cried and told my father to get the monkey back, but nothing happened. The bus had to go and there was not any time for me to cry anymore. So, my mother took me to the bus. Everyone tried to talk to me, but I didn’t feel better. I looked back at my small monkey, the same as he had done. I thought that my heart would break because I lost my best friend. Eventually I looked at my best friend until he disappeared. I went to sleep and didn’t know what was going on.

That was the most important event, which made me felt equity. Even now, I still think about it.

05:53 PM ICT Permalink | Comments [2]

Me, Myself, and I

Sengsoulixay was the name which my parents gave me when I was born. They gave me this name because I born while the sun was rising in the summer. Sengsouly means “the sun shines,” and Xay mean “Victory.” I’m so proud that I’m Lao, where the land of million elephants lived, people smile in a friendly manner to guests, and the country is peaceful.

My nickname is Lar. I’m thin, tall, tan skinned and black haired. I’m sociable and friendly. I love to talk to people, in order to get new ideas and change my opinions. I don’t like to stay at the same place, I like to explore new things all the time because I know people have unlimited knowledge. At present, I’m year four student at The Lao-American College in Vientiane. In my free time I love to read magazines and books. I especially like short stories and novels such as The Da Vinci Code, Around the World in 80 Days, and Romeo and Juliet. Let’s go back to my history. I was born on April 4, 1986 in Khammuan Province, an area surrounded by jungle and cliffs. My father, who is tall and thin like me, is a native of Khammuan. He has been a soldier since he was teenager. At that time, Laos was involved in the war with the United States and Vietnam.

After the war was over, my father stopped his job, and went back to take care of us. I lived with a big family: three brothers and five sisters. I’m the youngest. My family’s occupation is based on agriculture, which means my parents worked in the rice field and found natural food in the jungle. For instance, my parents always dig in the ground to find yam beans and bamboo shoots to make a good meal for us.

From autumn to winter, form the liquid to the ice, I grew bigger. I remember one day in the rainy season, when I was six years old. It was a very hot day and I was walking with my sisters and my parents from our rice field, along the street to my village. Suddenly, the sky became overcast together with blustery winds. So, my parents took us to hide in a nearby cave. Later, there was a torrential rain for two hours. After the rain stopped, I saw my rice fields under water because of flooding. Then, we went back to our home immediately.

I also remember the day when my father and my grandmother had a big conflict. My mother, who has been washing the clothes outside, ran into the house and took my father out. My sisters, brothers and I hid in near the corner of the house because we were scared. Then, we were banished from my grandmother’s house. After the conflict stopped, my parents took our clothes and walked toward the Saybangfai River. We followed him like the Army followed their commander. Oh, so poor, I thought in my mind. I kept going, while following my parents. I noticed, many people looking at us. Some laughed and some gossiped. “Those people are so rude and terrible,” I told my sister, who walked close to me.

When we reach the Saybangfai River‘s bank, my father and my two brother, who were 17 and 19 years old at the time, went to the forest with my father to cut the trees. My mother and my sisters cooked lunch for us. My two sisters, who have curly hair, played together with me. The weather was very hot, but I didn’t care. When we felt tired, then we stopped. Later, my brother come back, we had lunch together, and made shelter together. It was such a poor life, but we were not poor in our hearts. Which means we have to fight against poverty, we must be patient, and walk forward to get our goal. This is what my father taught me at that time.

To be continued.

07:01 PM ICT Permalink | Comments [2]