Sangthaews - the ubiquitous "buses" of Laos
To make it from Si Phan Don back to Pakse, Philip and I tore ourselves from our air-conditioned splurge at 8 am to take the public "bus." Our journey was an early, rude awakening from our pampered previous day (my half birthday and philip's excuse for tricking me into spending $15 for a hotel).
The public bus, otherwise known as a sangthaew, is an interesting method of transport. Picture a bare-bones pickup truck that has had a metal roof installed over the bed. Three long benches, one on each side and one in the middle, run the length of the bed and are padded with rough blue plastic for the "comfort" of the passengers. Customers sit along these benches with children in their laps so that they won't have to pay for them (you apparently pay per bum width) and luggage and bags are either tied to the roof or placed underneath the seats. Since there are not specific seats in the truck, the transportation coordinator (i.e. the guy who hangs off the back by holding onto bars installed on the roof and takes money) can cram as many people/packages/chickens as he can to increase his profits from the day's drive.
Today's sangthaew was filled with interesting passengers....
The first was a man who actually spoke some english, so we leaned over to try to hear him above the noise of the motor. We struck up a conversation until he told us that he was headed to the hospital due to a terrible cough that he had had for a while.....TB anyone? Philip and I politely leaned back, ended the conversation, and stuck our heads our the window. A mouth full of dirt is better than one full of infectious disease anyday.
The second character was a small, frail elderly woman who exited the bus halfway through our journey in front of a small shack on the side of the road. I lifted my legs for her to scoot by and felt sorry for making an old lady climb past us out of the crowded bus. I realized that my sympathies were misplaced as she singlehandedly heaved her huge bag of fresh fish (so fresh they were still flopping), crawled past everyone down the middle aisle, and hopped down off the back of the bus with more grace than I had ever managed. They may look old and frail, but these women are tough.
The third passenger worth mentioning is another possible source of highly dangerous infectious disease, the duck that flapped around for three hours under Philip's seat. Wrapped up like a package with rope, this bird displayed its dislike for the ride by pooping all over the floor and struggling against its bindings to get out into the aisle for some fresh air. Scared by the prospect of avian bird flu, Philip lifted his legs every time the poor animal moved a feather. (We didn't know if ducks were possible carriers of the virus, but we sure weren't taking any chances.)
Last but not least is another smalll, elderly woman casually snacking in the corner - she was quite cute until she gave you a big smile and revealed blood-red gums and teeth. Her bag of ruby red spit did not bode well for her (or my) health and was enough to make me scoot closer to the duck, the lesser of the two evils. After first spreading white chalk (a substanced similar to lime that it said to "soften" the gums) on a large green leaf and popping it into her mouth, she would open a small container and stuff her mouth full of beetlenuts. Supposedly this creates a "buzz" sensation, but I'm honestly not quite sure - no one has ever been able to speak english well enough to explain it, and I'm certainly not willing to risk my teeth to find out.
The public bus, otherwise known as a sangthaew, is an interesting method of transport. Picture a bare-bones pickup truck that has had a metal roof installed over the bed. Three long benches, one on each side and one in the middle, run the length of the bed and are padded with rough blue plastic for the "comfort" of the passengers. Customers sit along these benches with children in their laps so that they won't have to pay for them (you apparently pay per bum width) and luggage and bags are either tied to the roof or placed underneath the seats. Since there are not specific seats in the truck, the transportation coordinator (i.e. the guy who hangs off the back by holding onto bars installed on the roof and takes money) can cram as many people/packages/chickens as he can to increase his profits from the day's drive.
Today's sangthaew was filled with interesting passengers....
The first was a man who actually spoke some english, so we leaned over to try to hear him above the noise of the motor. We struck up a conversation until he told us that he was headed to the hospital due to a terrible cough that he had had for a while.....TB anyone? Philip and I politely leaned back, ended the conversation, and stuck our heads our the window. A mouth full of dirt is better than one full of infectious disease anyday.
The second character was a small, frail elderly woman who exited the bus halfway through our journey in front of a small shack on the side of the road. I lifted my legs for her to scoot by and felt sorry for making an old lady climb past us out of the crowded bus. I realized that my sympathies were misplaced as she singlehandedly heaved her huge bag of fresh fish (so fresh they were still flopping), crawled past everyone down the middle aisle, and hopped down off the back of the bus with more grace than I had ever managed. They may look old and frail, but these women are tough.
The third passenger worth mentioning is another possible source of highly dangerous infectious disease, the duck that flapped around for three hours under Philip's seat. Wrapped up like a package with rope, this bird displayed its dislike for the ride by pooping all over the floor and struggling against its bindings to get out into the aisle for some fresh air. Scared by the prospect of avian bird flu, Philip lifted his legs every time the poor animal moved a feather. (We didn't know if ducks were possible carriers of the virus, but we sure weren't taking any chances.)
Last but not least is another smalll, elderly woman casually snacking in the corner - she was quite cute until she gave you a big smile and revealed blood-red gums and teeth. Her bag of ruby red spit did not bode well for her (or my) health and was enough to make me scoot closer to the duck, the lesser of the two evils. After first spreading white chalk (a substanced similar to lime that it said to "soften" the gums) on a large green leaf and popping it into her mouth, she would open a small container and stuff her mouth full of beetlenuts. Supposedly this creates a "buzz" sensation, but I'm honestly not quite sure - no one has ever been able to speak english well enough to explain it, and I'm certainly not willing to risk my teeth to find out.
posted by CC at
5:15 PM
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