The land of craaazy skies

My first impressions of Laos? The people are relaxed and the skies are craaazy. It seems like every time I look up, the clouds are doing something else to amaze/entertain me. Stripes, poufs, layers like shading, dark brooding clouds and others like a tornado touching down in the distance. One reminds me of the wind and clouds from the age-old story about the competition between the wind and the sun, blowing with all its might.

Suddenly, all there is is whiteness. The sky's been erased, leaving only the green outlines of the palm trees. We walk towards the white and I feel an isolated drop on my head. I check the pavement for confirmation. The splashes in the rice paddies along the road grow more frequent. We wave down a passing pickup. It passes, it slows, it hesitates, it goes. Yes? No? Yes? No? Finally, it stops. They've discussed, they've decided -- the teenagers in the pickup. j.fisher gestures and smiles, "Bus station?" We hop in the back with two of the guys. One motions to space in the backseat of the cab, but we shake our heads, no. "We're ok here. Thank you!"

It starts to rain some more. He asks again. We smile -- we're ok. A few minutes later, he bangs on the roof of the cab and the truck slows to a stop. He doesn't really ask, he just points. We relent and scramble into the backseat, touched by their graciousness. The guy in the passenger seat doesn't even lean back in his seat, for fear of squishing us. We insist it's ok but he persists with his forward lean. The rain is now pelting down on us and they roll up the windows. We look back to see the other two leaning against the cab for a tiny modicum of protection. We're cognizant that they gave up their shelter as a gesture of kindness to the strangers by the roadside. When they drop us off, they insist on backing up as close to cover as they possibly can. We drop our heads, we smile, we grin -- anything to try and convey our gratitude. We wave and shout our thanks as they drive off, "Khawp jai."