laosattitude

how does it work in laos, said elf.

a frenchman told me this, said orphan. he's lived here 6 years. he has a young son and daughter. he had, past tense, a marriage with a local woman. they met. they married. he invested time and money to develop a guesthouse. they had 5 properties. they had problems. her extended family smelled a huge profit. she threw him out. she wants all the land. 

i saw her one day when she brought their daughter to school. fat and unhappy. both.

so how does it work in laos, asked elf. you didn't answer the big question from a small person.

men make the rules, said orphan. women take care of the home. it's all unspoken subtleties. they do their thing. women worship in the temples. they do their meditation. men sit around getting drunk, discussing new night girls, ethics, morality and behavior.

what happened to the french man and the kids, asked elf.

he plotted a way to get them out of the country. let her keep the land and buildings, he said.

many people here never leave their village. why. everything i have is here. a village maintains the other world.

clown money

once upon a time Orphan and Elf enrolled in a kindergarden class. a new project in Laos.

where's the stuff, like toys and games and books, they asked.

our supplies are limited said Budget, the administrator.

this was a new vocabulary word for Orphan and Elf.

what's a budget? it's the control of money.

what's money? it's paper with people's faces.

may we have some paper and pencils, asked Orphan and Elf, WE can draw faces on paper.

here, said Budget handing them sheets of papyrus and graffiti lead them now-here.

be my guest.

thank you very much.

Orphan and Elf designed, illuminated and created paper money with faces of clowns.

great, said Elf, let's exchange these clowns for some stuff like toys, games and books, OK, said Orphan.

they went shopping.

image is everything

once upon a time in cambodia i went to the barber.

i saw some glossy pictures. handsome. beguiling. 

i want to look that man, i told the barber.

do you have any money.

yes. i showed him some paper.

you have to wait.

how long.

years.

ok.

Clay exchange

Na. They met in her village on the outskirts of town down a lost long red dust road.

It’s a miracle not to save anyone. Not to be a rich foreigner in her dead hopeful eyes, who will marry, save, rescue, support and maintain an 18-year old Lolita nymphet.

A brief transitory relationship. Money and time. Passion with the mature knowledge of a young waif’s dreams of a boy, a man, a local seismographic approval allowed by parents. Is her father alive? Men and women tongue desire.

Her form, angular face, soft skin, touch yes she is experienced in the act of love, this cannot be denied, her movements, her sense of touch tactile indicates practice perhaps a moneyed man. Local boys in the dark.

Her beauty and technique allowing her new potentials, not so much about her pleasure as taking care of business in a soft slow way before rushing from bed to douche. Dressing quickly, shyness wraps its arms enveloping her. Down a lost long red dust road.

Inside light with slow fingers and long thin ivory nails they turned clay into pots. Spinning circles danced, turning on a Wheel of Time. They finished throwing them, used them for tribal ceremonies and smashed clay pots to earth.

Clay exploded into air creating volcanic ash coating everything in a fine dust. 

Chase

Namaste,

There was a man in a poor village.

Everyday he went into the mountains searching for gold.

Everyone said he was crazy.

After 40 years he found gold, returned to the village, exchanged the gold for cash, bought a rope, tied the money to one end and tied the other around his waist.

He ran through the village dragging it behind him and everyone said he was crazy. 

 “What are you doing?” they yelled at him. 

 “For 40 years I’ve been chasing money and now money is chasing me.”

Metta.