Our present moment.
Borders Closed, Rain Falling, and Laughter in the Dark
Friday the 27th of June 2025
We are in Laos on a visa run from Thailand, but nothing is going the way we thought it would. We were supposed to make this run to Cambodia on Tuesday, but the conflict between Thailand and Cambodia escalated and they shut all the borders overnight between Monday and Tuesday. Our trip was obviously canceled. We had to take this long, exhausting bus ride and ended up crossing into Laos instead, but we haven’t been able to get back into Thailand yet. We’re stuck here until we figure out another way back, which probably means flying in. Thousands of people are in the same situation, probably way worse than us.
Thankfully, Thai people break the rules no matter what, so with enough money we’ll likely be able to pay our way back in, but not without some bullshit, believe me.
Seneca is happy though. Being on the road, discovering new places, it’s always exciting for him. He has no idea wars are breaking out all around, and that we’re sitting in the middle of rising tension here in East Asia. I feel so heavy with sadness and anxiety for all the people physically involved. It’s like the people want peace but the leaders don’t. No one knows where this is going, but one thing is clear—it sucks. And even on our small level, it affects us. We can’t get back to our place. Booba, our little parrot, is waiting there for us. That’s honestly the worst part. Because otherwise, we’re having a nice time here in Vientiane.
This place is lovely. The food is delicious. We had our first meal at this totally local restaurant, served by a beautiful Laotian family. We slept in a charming wooden house, typical East Asian style. I recognized Vietnamese elements in their clothing and food. I can see the Khmer in their attitude, their features, their homes and gestures. And the Thai is definitely in their language—it sounds so similar.
I’m actually happy to have another experience with this culture that’s so unpredictably funny. Last night, when Josh went out to get dinner under the pouring rain, by the way, it rains a lot, and we only brought enough clothes for two days. Everything is soaked and dirty. We can’t wash them because we don’t have Tide, which is the only detergent Josh and Seneca can use. They’re severely allergic to anything else. So our only option is to buy new clothes or make my own natural detergent. And you know which one is more likely.
Anyway, the interaction Josh had with the security guard at our guest house yesterday... wow. Worth the whole trip, honestly. At first, he just saw the guy lying on a couch in the small lobby, napping, like most people do around here when they work or scroll endlessly on their phones, listening to the news like everyone else these days. Even the kids. Actually, the kids seem to be prepping for war too. These violent cartoons and toys they’re all into lately. It’s insane.
Seneca’s toy choices these last few days? A missile helicopter, a military LEGO guy riding a T-Rex robot with machine guns and more missiles, and then a bunch of scary, aggressive dinosaurs all ready to fight. I can see violence rising again from the past. We had a peaceful 50 years or so, but humans seem to need a step backward to slow the process. We don’t know what’s coming. Technology keeps advancing, but human beings might be walking into a massive trap. Eyes locked to screens, I’m afraid we’re all falling hard.
I’m so glad I don’t have one of those stupid smartphones. They don’t connect us anymore. They manipulate us. We need to look inside. We need boredom to create. But the kids? They’ve seen too much. They’re discouraged from even starting anything.
Luckily, we still have some comedy left. So Josh gets back from the restaurant, drenched. He’s walking into the lobby when the same guy—now up and moving—opens the door for him. Josh thought it was a man, in pajamas, with a weird haircut and patchy bleached hair. But then he sees a more feminine face, pale, like Chinese complexion, no makeup. Still, he couldn’t tell—man or woman? His hairline was way back. Then he/she started talking in a foreign language. Josh said he didn’t understand and the person said “Boom Boom.” Then started gesturing, using her hands, making horizontal peace signs with her fingers, and “putting them together to mimic the way lesbians make love.” Josh freaked out. Took a giant step back and said, “No,nn,nn, nn, o,no… thank you!” and ran back to our room, totally unsettled.
He didn’t even tell me right away. We ate first and talked about all the stressful shit, we had some deep AI chats to help us sort through what we’re facing, what steps we need to take... everything perfectly set up to give me a panic attack before bed. Which I kind of had. I’m so pathetically sensitive and my hormones don’t help, they aggravate my whole mindset.
But when he finally told me about that dude trying to make a little extra chedder on the side at our supposedly family-friendly guest house, I exploded in laughter. I’m still laughing writing this down. It didn’t strike us as a place like Pattaya, where prostitution is everywhere, ladyboys working at 7/11 and in Muslim restaurants. In Thailand, they’re respected and integrated. But here in Laos, just like Vietnam, the population has a Jehovah’s Witness vibe—conservative dressed and innocent. So witnessing that little scene was honestly hilarious. It feels so good to laugh.
Nice talking to you, my dear journal.
