Before stepping foot (or rolling wheels) onto Laos soil, I knew absolutely nothing about this country.
The shock of leaving Thailand after having contacts and people to help you navigate the culture and language was pretty smack in the face. It really hit me when something as simple as trying to say thank you to the Laotian man dragging your 50 pound pack on top of the next bus was near impossible to express. Standing there making hand gestures and slowing down my words to just say “thank you” made it clear we were going to have to trust that God would help us navigate every aspect of this month here and trust that he would provide us even with the smallest of things, such as knowing how to say two simple words that show gratitude and respect to people we know nothing about.
To the hardworking patient man atop our “VIP” travel bus who stopped to watch me struggle to speak to him and then by God’s grace knew I was trying to say thank you and smiled returning with ” kup jai”, thank you. Thank you for seeing me, for not judging me as another hard hearted tourist, and thank you for teaching me that I could trust the Laotian people and God to lead us this entire month from the start. Those two words that transcended love, appreciation and respect between cultures were but the biggest blessing.
There’s been quite a few things that have happened this month that if someone asked how it was that I could squint my eyes half shut, fold my arms and reply “this month was fish guts” in a pouty sort of way. But because of the foundation of trust that was built upon that first day it has been easy to push all of those things aside and still love and be loved by the Laotian people. Actually it’s sort of funny because my favorite day here in Laos involved actual fish guts.
And this is the true meat of this month.
Unsung heroes are supposed to be other believers who are unrecognized for their work for furthering the kingdom, but unsung hero to me is the two families that run and own our hostel. We don’t know if they fully understand the love and salvation of Jesus or if they still pray to other gods, but what I do know is that they are the most generous, loving, trustworthy people I have met here in Laos
. One day last week John (we will call him) invited us to his own home in the village across the MeKong river to fish and have lunch with his family. Of all the other backpackers staying at his hostel he opened an invitation to the six of us. Three different cultures, American, Laos, and Vietnamese packed into a tuk tuk and rode down to the river.; hopped a boat across the MeKong, snagged a few ice cream cones on the way off and traveled through the countryside to Johns home. When we arrived, we piled out of the tuk tuk and before us, in the distance, a bamboo hut with a tin roof, a son swinging in a makeshift hammock over the large fish pond, a little girl squatting in the dirt making dust fly up as she stirred it, puppies barking and tumbling over each other, chickens, chics, roosters, hens, and ducks all waddling around tending to their babies and trying to peck some sticky rice out of the bags laid out for lunch, a woman tending the fire patiently cooking hand caught fish between two sick of wood; an older man shucking giant heart shaped green leaves as the placemats for their bountiful feast they were about to feed us, neighbor kids had all come wandering over the wooden post in the back that separated a path from the farm fields from their hut and livestock area to hang out for their one afternoon off of school.They fished with home made fishing rods of wood, string, and a small hook all laughing and giggling as they stripped to their underwear, sliding around in the mud chasing each other around the pond to find the best fishing spot. A boy every so often checking a fishing net and tending to his bamboo raft so that it wouldn’t float away and the grandfather far out now jumping in the pond to catch more fish for his six new American daughters. We walked down the dirt path and wind began to blow, sounds of laughter from the little children playing and us as we eagerly explored step by step this beautiful, simple serene home that John and his family invited us too. As we arrived we were asked to all sit on a suspended mat made of bamboo that would bend and flex as you walked on it. I sat down on the end and chatted for a while as other played with the children, sat in the sun, held puppies, ate raw tamarind with salt and waited patiently for lunch. As I sat, I turned around behind me and John had a bucket of fish, a big machete, and a wooden stump. One by one he pulled out fish. Tenderly he scraped the scales off the outside, fins still flipping, one stubborn fish flopping out of his hand onto the ground where an eager puppy waited to pounce. Taking his time he was careful to get all the scales off. Natalie, beside me looked horrified as we all knew John was going to have to kill the fish eventually. He glanced up at us both and said, please don’t look I don’t like to kill. Although I watched. I watched him find the spot under the fins to best make a cut and pull out the inside between his thumb and first two fingers. Over and over one fish and then the next. But as I sat there and watched I realized how much I had learned to trust God to help me learn to trust these people. I realized how simple life really can be and is for John and his family. How you may only have one bamboo hut the size of a bedroom and you have to work for your food but it can be a place that brings you the most joy.
Though the enemy has given plenty of reasons to throw in the towel on this country and these people, the Lord has given us plenty more reasons to turn 🙁 fish guts into 🙂 fish guts. I’m full of gratitude and love for the people who gave us not just a bed and shower for the month but a home, love, and a new family to always remember and cherish.
Yes, it’s weird, but for me, I can never cringe at the thought of fish guts anymore, whether the enemy is trying to throw spiritual fish guts at me, or there’s literal fish guts being pulled out in front of my eyes, I trust the one whose making the incision. And forever I will remember my favorite day in a Laos village with my new family and unsung hero’s.
Pray for our new family that the trust and relationships we have built with them will continue to flourish and lead to further relationships and connections with other believers and ultimately, Jesus. I hope for them. I know they have seen and felt His love through us because I have felt and seen His love through them.
I’m excited to share more about Laos in the near future, but for now it’s time to spend my last afternoon soaking up the smell of fish cooking on the stove, sun peeking through the banana leaves and smiles of my Laos friends.
Merry Christmas and love to you all,
Melissa
