Laos time

It saddens me that I haven't felt inspired to write for the last, well, two years nearly! Maybe it was the bank job, the same route to and from the job, same surroundings, who knows. Now that I've been to South East Asia for four months, moved to a different country and looking for new and interesting jobs I feel a little more inspired. Today was a good day, I had a successful interview, and although I like to think I'm not a 'career' person, I am. I like money and success unfortunately, therefore I felt good about myself. I stumbled upon some amazing music which I listened to all afternoon and put my face in the sun and it was wonderful. I've been having lots of these days. Days that I feel in touch with myself and my life, not just those days where you think, 'Shit, what have I actually been doing today?!'

I remember one day in Laos in particular. The lime green rice fields were lined with wooden bamboo cabins that were met by steep mountains. Huge black mountains that looked like obsidian crystals that shot up straight like ice burgs that had pierced their way to the surface. The fog wrapped around them like a protective mother. The little brown children stood showering outside, not covering themselves as a minivan of white people parked by them. They did wave and stare though, they stared at us as though trying to keep a part of our clean white skin in their memory forever.

This polygamous country of busy husbands was strangely one of my favourites. The men would drive us from place to place, sometimes stopping to drop off the odd chicken or rice sack at one of their wives houses while inviting us into their homes to wait. Laos time. Everything and everyone moves slowly; a three hour ride will take seven hours. It was perfect and it relaxed me and I guess, changed me in a good way.

The dancers.

There are many kinds.The ones that repeatedly raise their arms while simultaneously bouncing on their knees creating this sort if rhythmic bean-pole look. They are very fun to dance with, however I'd say they are probably the most common and you sort of look past them sometimes. There are also the awkward air humpers. You know the ones who seem to hump the air and move their spaghetti arms from side to side, they are wide eyed, eager and comical but there is an invisible barrier between them and the music, which I don't think they really care about breaking. Then there are those dancers who have soul in their step. They inhale the music as if its its their last breath and the music flows from their fingertips. With their eyes closed they look like magnificent willow trees; solid yet flowing, rising from the earth like a flowing river. Each movement is made with their entire bodies and they can really feel it. At the live gig I went to on Saturday I saw three willow trees, they caught my eye straight away and I remember thinking to myself, if the music just stopped right here and now and they kept dancing, I'd be happy. Music you can see.