I’ve made a good share of international connections in my life so far, between traveling to other countries for language immersion, hosting an exchange student, and just making friends from all over the world. I’m endlessly fascinated by the (sometimes surprising) similarities and differences between cultures, and I love to learn about other people’s way of life.
However, nothing I’d experienced previously was anything like my experience in Laos this past summer.
I’d never been to Asia before (let alone a corner of the world where people had never heard of Beyoncé), so that in and of itself was a wild experience. It took us 36 hours through 4 different countries to get there, and the humidity alone was a bit of a culture shock.
I’m not sure I really realized we were there until after lunch, when we visited a school, met some of the youth we’d be spending the next few days with, and then did some sightseeing in Vientiane. Many of them had come from other provinces for a three-day leadership conference, so going to Pha That Luang and Patuxay was almost as exciting for them as it was for us. We had a translator with us, but she wasn’t by our sides constantly, and while some of our new friends spoke some English, most of our communicating was through smiles and gestures alone (a pattern that would continue throughout our stay).
The next day, we and our Lao friends were put to a classic task: the human knot. The twist was, we had to detangle ourselves without speaking. For once, the language barrier wasn’t an issue at all, and it loosened us all up so that we didn’t feel so separate anymore. It made me (and I think all of us) realize that you really don’t need a common culture or even a common tongue to work together and solve a problem. And to be honest, once both groups realized that, it was pretty easy.
Later, in the afternoon, we taught them some American crafts. Our translator repeated our introduction of each craft, but when it came to the instruction, we just went around and demonstrated, since that’s easier than explaining verbally anyway. Whenever they had a question, they’d come up to one of us and gesture, and we’d either do the first piece of the next step or pantomime it, and occasionally we’d just pop by each table and give a questioning thumbs up to see if everyone was doing okay, to which they’d respond with an enthusiastic head nod and a smile.
A note on smiling—smiles were the one thing that was constantly reassuring for me throughout our stay. Everyone was so kind and welcoming to us, and while I was in Vientiane, I felt like I was both giving and receiving more genuine smiles in one day than I normally would at home in a week. Every time I greeted someone (“Sabai dee”), every time I would express thanks (“keop chai”), and pretty much every other quote-unquote conversation that I had, there was an almost tangible warmth and joy.
Even more fun were the games and dances we taught each other. In short, I’m apparently just as bad at Lao games as I am at American ones, but at least I gave our friends a good laugh. They did a good job with the games and dances that we brought, though we had very different styles and ways of moving. My friend Danielle taught them some steps she’d made up to a Beyoncé song, which they did a pretty good job with once they got a handle on the rhythm, but it was clearly not what they were used to. Likewise, it took me nearly the entire song and copious staring at my partner’s hands to figure out the delicate swirling hand movements that were clearly second nature to her. Nevertheless, while the dancing highlighted some of our cultural differences (i.e. their dancing being more precise and restrained, and ours being felt more through the entire body at once), we were able to connect and share, not to mention have some good fun!
But the most impactful moment of understanding for me was in the music. They did a lot of playing and singing, and we shared some of our own songs as well. At first, all of us Americans stood to the side in polite interest, but by the end, even though I didn’t understand the words, I could feel their meaning. I’m a Music major and have loved performing since I could walk, but I still have trouble truly letting myself go in front of an audience. When they sang for us, they left it all out on the table. It was inspiring. The place they reached was so deep, it reverberated throughout the room and all the way through me, and left me with a yearning to seek the same level of devotion.
I could do much, much more elaborating on what I did and learned over the course of my travels thorough northern Laos, but for now, I’ll close with this. You don’t have to speak the same language to connect with someone. You don’t have to have the same background, the same level of life experience, the same religion, or even be from the same hemisphere. We are all human beings, and we are drawn together by a bond stronger than any barrier. I know that now firsthand, and I hope that it’s an experience the likes of which everyone experiences at one time or another.
Image Credit: Writer’s Own