It was a weird time to be crossing the Lao/Vietnamese border
at Lao Bao: no buses nor other tourists. After walking several
kilometers into Vietnam, we finally came upon moneychangers
and a minivan full of women. The driver of the van wanted
too much money for a ride to Hue ($9 each), but we were stranded,
so we paid him.
As we climbed into the van, the women gestured to us, urgently
patting the seats next to them. They told a woman to give
up her window seat for Bryan, which she did without hesitation.
We thought that as
foreigners, we were viewed as novelties, but we were actually good
luck charms.
At the first checkpoint,
the women were ordered out, and we were ordered to stay as the
armed guards pulled up seat cushions and poked around the van. A
male officer tapped my window with his long fingernails and gave me
a creepy leer before making a comment about me to the onlooking
women. A similar inspection took place about a half-hour
later.
By the time we blew a tire, the mood had changed. Ho, the young woman seated
in front of me, grinned as she proudly extracted cigarettes
that were strapped to her arms and chest. The woman next to
Bryan had hidden cigarettes in her leggings. Drinking glasses
emerged from the floorboards, and chocolate bars came from
the curtains. The van was full of contraband. The women were
clapping their hands and laughing. Ho pretended to be handcuffed
and giggled.
I'd been aware of the need to relieve myself since before
the border crossing. I hoped to find a quiet bush while the
flat tire was being replaced, but I was accosted as soon as
I stepped out of the van. The women were grabbing by breasts,
my butt, my waist, braiding my hair, kissing Bryan, kissing
me, cupping my breasts, trying to lift up my shirt to see
my breasts, smelling Bryan's passport photo constant attention
that continued for the remainder of the journey. The unlikely
smugglers were home free, and nothing could contain their
exuberance.
Everyone got out at the same spot in what we were told was
Hue, and the bus driver told Bryan and me to disembark there,
too. We decided to get a beer (Huda) and figure out where
to spend the night. This drew a crowd of about five giggling
kids and five older men. It was hard to get a quiet beer,
but even harder to relieve my taut bladder. Two of the girls
led me past a man showering outdoors, into their house, and
back outside, where their sister was forced out of a bathroom
with shampoo still in her hair.
I returned to Bryan, who had learned in my absence that we
were in the village of Dong Ha, more than 70 kilometers from
Hue. We mounted an archaic blue Soviet bus with wood planks
for seats, eating our knees and hoping this time we'd make
it to Hue - unmolested.
Jen Reeder
