Photo .:: LINUZ ::.
Aboard a bus in Laos, Josh suspects that the shifty kid with the machine gun might just rob him blind.
IN NORTHEAST LAOS, on one lane roads, we swoop through foggy forests. The driver of the bus strains forward, breathing a little stain of fog on the windshield. Outside the rain falls on sullen cattle.
The bus pulls aside and while the men step out to liberate their bladders, the glint off the barrel of a large machine gun catches my eye. The weapon is protruding from a young man’s denim coat. I stand and stretch, only now I have an electric current running from my toes to my testicles.
The kid, and he looks all of 16, seems to be trying to be inconspicuous. No one seems to heed him or his alarming semi-automatic secret.
We board the bus and the driver gives the machine gun kid a little nod as he takes his seat among us. My eyes won’t leave the muzzle or the angular protrusion of denim or the way he holds the barrel beside his leg. From the size of the gun it could well be an AK-47.
This is my third day in Laos.
The bus is full of sedate travelers surely carrying cash and cameras and all kinds of expensive gadgetry. We are sitting ducks. Oh God please don’t let me be the guy with a black sack over his face holding a newspaper for the unsteady camera. Of nearly equal gravity is the thought of the machine gun kid tearing through my bag to discover $2,000 cash.
We stop at a string of noodle huts waiting for us. Among the scraggle of hungry tourists there is a big lad in a tee shirt that says Vancouver. I need an ally in this unfortunate knowledge.
“Yeah, right there, um, twelve o’clock. He’s packing heat big time dude! And he doesn’t want anyone to see! See?”
“Holy shit, no way man. Look at him, he’s gonna rob the bus, you hear about it all the time. Why else would he be hiding a machine gun? What do we do?”
“Well I don’t know about you but I’m going to the bathroom and getting creative with my dough. I’m carrying, like, a lot of cash.”
In the bathroom stall I rip into my money stash. I duct tape some bills to the inside cover of my portable Steinbeck, making it a $400 edition. I tear into my travel pillow and stuff a few hundred in. The biggest chunk of change is crammed under my junk. I button my jeans and dozens of Vietnamese notes crunch in my underwear. If this is a full on strip-search-jungle-shake-and-bake, well, at least the money they steal will have touched my nuts.
For the next two hours the kid looks relaxed enough. I am sweating through my shirt. The Canadian fingers a serrated plastic knife.
Finally, the machine gun kid slowly stands and turns toward me. He steps forward, shifts his gun and strides quickly to the front of he bus. The bus slows down, but doesn’t stop as he hops off and waves us on. The driver smiles and slams the bus into gear. A queer disappointment contends with my relief. I was so set on being robbed that I’m…a little bummed.
The big Canadian leans close, “I have a plastic picnic knife.”
“You’re a better man than I. I have a fistful of dollars chaffing my naughty bits.”
“Oh, me too. Of course.”
COMMUNITY CONNECTION
Have you had a close call? Or at least worked yourself up into thinking you were having a close call?! I would love to hear your stories of danger, real or perceived, on the road.
Please send to josh at matadornetworkdotcom.
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18 Comments... join the discussion!
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the kid, as i learned in the next town from a local, was our guard. Those types of buses are knocked over by bandits every so often. Nobody ever bothered telling us we would have an armed guard, and i don’t know if the other passengers knew or were completely unaware.
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What a wicked story! I love the first paragraph, and your sense of relieved disappointment at the end. I’m curious, though – did it cross your mind to make some sort of excuse for not getting back on the bus?
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it did not. I had a sort of fated determinism about that bus ride… We were in the middle of the mountains, winding up up up then down down down. I had crossed at a pretty remote area and was on the only bus headed in that direction. The bus also felt like the safest place to be!
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I loved the ending – bummed you didn’t get robbed…
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i guess bummed i wouldn’t come back with the story of the bus being robbed…i was carrying all my savings from teaching English, so i didn’t want to lose that but…i wanted the adventure factor of a stagecoach robbery
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That’s a national policeman.
They are on every bus that passes by Kasi, Phou Khoun, etc on the way to and from Luang Prabang, Vientiane, and Phonsavan. Often they ride past Phou Khoun headed in one direction then catch another bus headed back. That way they get to sleep at home in Vientiane at night.
They started carrying them under their coats because all the tourists, I’m not pointing fingers now, were getting upset over the sight of an automatic rifle. Often militia members will ride on the buses also but their rifles don’t have the cool folding stock and they aren’t used to having to worry about the sensiblities of westerners who are upset over seeing guns.
Those policemen are some of the most professional in Laos. I often ride that bus and speak Lao to some extent. Those guys ride the bus to “harden” the target. Public busses are sometimes the object of retaliatory attacks by Hmong insurgents. There is a 30 year grudge match going on. The last shooting on the road was in 06 or 07 at the bridge just north of Vang Vien. I think putting guards on the bus is a good idea. Those gards probably spend more in a month on amo keeping their live fires skills honed than most Lao people earn in salary.
You can read more about it and see a video here.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5mi68GYu64k
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,501030217-421079,00.html
http://www.digitaljournalist.org/issue0610/dis_arnold.html
I like Roger Arnolds stuff, a lot.
and I blogged about the road/Hmong situation here.
http://laobumpkin.blogspot.com/2007/02/road-dangers.html
There is a much worse humanitarian situation going on in Burma. Something to consider as we blissfully follow the pancake trail.
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OMG! Thank you for the awesome comment full of info. Thank you for adding some insight into my perceived misadventure! You sound like you now what you are talking about. Thanks for commenting.
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I think this version makes for a better story actually. It beats the stereotype and no one gets hurt.
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Oh wow, I have no idea what I’d do in that situation. Reminds me of the first time I was taking the London underground, and one of those announcements about “suspicious packages” came on. Not realizing this was pretty much a regular thing, I nearly fainted but my friends made me ride anyway. Total terror. Although considering nobody had a gun, I’m super impressed you managed to get back on that bus. And clever way to handle those bills!
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What a great story! You had me hooked on every word – I don’t know if I could have gotten back on the bus if that was the case, having seen the gun. I road quite a few buses in Laos, and thankfully never saw our armed guard if we had one! I’m a little shocked that you were carrying that much cash on you…that’s a LOT of money on that side of the world!
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Wow! Great story! At least your didn’t get hurt and you have great travel tips to share with travelers when they visit Laos. Perhaps the greatest tips is do not carry that much money when you visit Laos. Enter at your own risk!
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In nearly all regards I feel far less safe stepping out of my back door into an alley in downtown Seattle than I did while backpacking around Laos. It was actually the most gentle, pristine and friendly place in my Southeast Asia travels.
I was just steeped in ignorance and waaaay in my head!↵ -
Hahahaaaa! I have friends who (not cool, i know) used to steal from their place of work, and they would put money into a little bag and strapped it to their nuts, cos everyone was searched after work to prevent thieving (interesting that the paranoid place gets robbed).
Yours is a much more worthwhile reason for carrying nut money.
Thanks for the awesome story!
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You definitely carried me through the whole story. I can understand them not telling you about the guard, but did you assume the driver was in on the nonexistent robbery?
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Well-told. Love the plastic knife bit. Glad to hear it was a national guard, but I’d be pretty damn scared too. (Stuffing money inside your bra = distinct advantage of being female).
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Hilarious Story, dude.
I would be a bit bummed too. I mean really, who wants to hear a story about NOT getting mugged?And does it bother you at all to think that somewhere in the world there is a person carrying around cash with your ball sweat on it? Really? You should have autographed it before spending it…
Good thing you didn’t have a roll of coins.
Who knows where you would have “hid” that.↵ -
I know that feeling all too well. The same thing happened to me in Laos in the summer of 2007. We were getting on a bus in Vang Vieng to make our way through the mountains toward Vientiane. We got on the bus fine and started to make our way out of the bus station (if you can call it that) when it came suddenly to a stop. Three young kids, probably 12 to 14, got on the bus all strapped with AK 47s. Of course they all decided to sit right in front of us. At this point, I started to question our decision to take the cheaper local bus for the journey, as we were the only non Laotians on the bus.
I started to panic realizing that I had about $300 cash and my debit card on me. I tried to be as sly as possible and reached down into my backpack to hide my cash/cards into an old pair of socks that were in my pack.
The young kids with the guns kept staring at us and smiling almost the entire trip. They even wielded the guns around pointing them at us. The kid in front of me even had me touch his gun and hold it. I just keep thinking for the worst wondering why they just didn’t finally get it over with.
We finally arrived in Vientiane with the same result. The kids got off and went on their way. I have never been so terrified and embarrassed that I assumed the worst of the kids. Not to mention that was the craziest bus ride I have ever been on in my entire life for other reasons. Apparently Laotians do not travel much and get motion sickness very easily. Everyone on the bus besides us puked throughout the winding four hour journey through the mountains.
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