Laotian kindness is legendary; it was obvious almost from first sight, but two specific events I experienced showed it to run deeper than suspected.
While visiting Vientiane for the first time, I discovered the excellent Laotian coffee at the Morning Market (see my "Vientiane: Love from First Sip" journal). Not speaking Laotian, I used my usual tactic in such a case. I pointed at a cup of coffee to the stall’s owner and sat next to a customer who was about to finish his. While sipping my coffee, I noted he paid 1500 kip for it (around 15 cents). I finished mine while wondering about the best coffee in the world being one of the cheapest, picked up the same amount of kips and handed them to the owner with a smile. She looked at the money and I could sense something was wrong, but before I managed to react she smiled and put it away.
The ritual continued the following mornings. Then, I casually visited a different stall in another part of the market and was requested to pay 2000 kip for the same coffee. Wandering about that, next day I returned to my usual stall and watched the other customers; all of them paid 2000 kip.
Apparently, on my first day I had watched an old patron of the place who enjoyed an old price or a discount. This time I paid 2000 kip and signalled I wasn’t expecting any change; I got a big smile. Attempting to fix the damage without causing her to "loose face," the following days I increased my coffee consumption (an extra benefit) while making clear I expected to get the complimentary green tea only with the last one. I had gained a friend.
Another event was even more surprising.
I like to write while sitting at hotel lobbies; the ever changing surroundings provide the right kind of stimulation needed for creative work. On certain occasion, I was trying to write in my favourite hangout while a troubled tourist kept bothering me.
"I lost my baseball cap," he said apparently to no one for the third time that day.
By then I already knew all the details. The cap was a gift from his ex-girlfriend. She abandoned him and he decided to visit the East in an attempt to forget her. The day before we met, he had arrived to Vientiane from Thailand through the Friendship Bridge over the Mekong River and took a tuk-tuk (motorized tricycle) to the capital. His cap was apparently lost in the terminal or in the way to the hotel.
In a spark of creativity, I found a solution to my most immediate problem.
"Why don’t you go back to the terminal and search for it?" I said.
Soon he was gone and I returned happily to my writing. Ten minutes later he returned. A cheap baseball cap was on his head.
"The driver kept it for me!" he told me with a huge smile.
Laotian kindness was as reliable as the scorching sun over the Mekong River.