the road to pakse

roughly a year ago, i was sitting in a cramped minibus with my wife and about 20 panamanians. the bus had only about 12 seats, as i recall. if it had shocks, they were in a very questionable condition. it most certainly did not have air conditioning. it was at least 95 degrees outside… and inside the bus for that matter. with open windows to facilitate airflow, we zoomed through the interior of panama on our way to las tables for the most spectacular carnival celebrations in the country. sitting next to an enormous, sweaty local woman, and, myself, sweating profusely - i was struck with a thought… this is great - why didn't we do it more often? somehow, as terrible as that ride was - it was fantastic. to share that experience with so many people could be called enlightening. here we were, 20 plus strangers, toughing it out on a long, bumpy, hot, dusty bus ride and i couldn't get enough of it. it was a window into a world that i had not yet known. you can learn a great deal about people, culture, language and food on a ride like that. a few smiles and greetings bonded us together when we otherwise would have never met.
it was on that very bus ride that i told myself, if possible, alina and i were going to travel - the way we had always wanted to. certainly, there had to be more bus rides like that to experience around the world. only days after, during our flight back to hawaii in fact, we took a sheet of paper and made a list - where we wanted to go, how much it would cost, how much we had to save, how much we needed to return home on, how long we needed to save and, of course, how long could we travel for. and there it was settled, first 6 months, then 12, then 10. first 22 countries, then 19, now 20 maybe.
now, twelve months later, i found us again on a bus. this time in laos, from savannakhet to pakse. although worlds away, there is much in common between laos and panama - scorching hot dry seasons, bumpy roads and rusty old buses to name a few. it is also the benevolence and warmth of the people that i draw a parallel on.
we started our journey at 12:30, leaving savannakhet in the heat of the day. with only about 30 of the 40 seats full, i thought we were in for a relatively quiet and peaceful trip. i was wrong. our driver slowly puttered through the streets of savannakhet, hammering the horn at every pedestrian he saw, looking for a few more fares… in the 15 minutes it took to get to the outskirts of town, we were pretty much full. in addition to the now 40 passengers, we carried a full cargo, five feet high, on the top of the bus. as well, we carried about 20 bags of garlic, each weighing roughly 35#. one stuffed under every seat, creating a heady aroma, akin to my days working at mad mushroom pizza back in lexington. as we headed on out of the city, i soon realized that we would not be making the journey in 4 hours, as our guidebook suggested. instead, we stopped, and stopped, and stopped. we stopped so passengers could run into stores and drop off payments of money. we stopped at every crossroads, picking up more passengers. we stopped at rural markets, where villagers sold eggs, fruits and vegetables - everyone got off to shop and eat. we stopped every time the driver saw a suitcase, duffle bag or sack of rice along the road. he honked and people came running from the shade of houses, bars and restaurants. they loaded onto the bus with their bags, baskets and smiles. we stopped when anyone had to pee. we stopped when vendors appeared from outdoor restaurants. they piled onto the bus, selling grilled chickens, sticky rice, drinks, beers, grilled eggs, corn, and delicious unidentifiable dried meats. they stood on luggage, climbed over people, and on seats offering their treats. people smiled, we all leaned on each other, our dirt, grime and sweat were common. no one seemed to mind. the bus attendant weaved her way through, over and sometimes on, the crowd, collecting new fares and positioning people in a way to allow the driver to stop for more. at one point i counted 16 people in front of me that did not have a seat - we were in the second row… there were easily 80 people on the bus. the driver continued to honk, stop and pick up more people. he balled the gas on straight-a-ways, passing cars and scooters and dodging water buffalo, cows and pigs to make up time lost stopping. i figured if we crashed that we would all be okay. there was no free space in the bus for us to fall to or fly through. our driver smiled in the rearview mirror with delight, counting the fares and calculating how many more he could fit. i was ecstatic and smiled dumbly at everyone. they all smiled back. everyone seemed to enjoy the whole experience. we stopped more. now, we were too crowded for the vendors to board the bus. instead they shoved food through the windows, yelling and smiling. alina had bamboo skewered grilled chickens pressing against her head. she smiled and laughed, it would wash out and the vendors didn't seem to notice or mind. the lady in front of us bought a few and quickly devoured them with the help of the three others in her seat. afterwards she started chewing beetle nut and spitting it out her window. the momentum of the bus carried most of it past alina's face and right into the window of the passengers behind us, splattering bright red everywhere. i looked back to see the lady behind us, leaning over, smiling and laughing. she didn't seem to mind. all part of the experience, i thought. we stopped at a provincial checkpoint. police looked into the bus and let us pass. i thought, what are they checking for? is everyone drinking beer? is the bus double capacity? does anyone need more grilled chicken?
as we approached pakse, more passengers boarded. by now, the teenage girls in the isle next to me were laughing and giggling. they sat on each other, their bags and the floor. they covered their noses, as the heat of the motor warmed the floor of the bus and, in turn, the garlic. it was like the inside of a pizza oven. alina and i laughed and snuck pictures of the scene. we smiled and laughed more. in a few minutes, we would be in the city center, climbing over our new friends and out into the cooling night air. our routine would shift, focusing again on finding a room. our attention would drift away from the events of our bus ride. we wanted to enjoy the last few minutes of it. later, we found ourselves in the only italian restaurant in southern laos. we were eating pizza and garlic bread. tired from the hours of bouncing around in the heat and dust, we didn't talk. i thought about panama and the course of events that have taken place to get us all the way to pakse. life is great and i'm enjoying every bus ride. - david