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Returning home
One thing scarier than leaving home to go travelling, for me, was going back.
With only a few weeks until I landed back in Dublin airport, panic set in. “What am I going home to? Where will I work? Should I get a part-time job or look for a career?” These thoughts plagued my mind as I crossed the border from Thailand into Laos, so much so, that I barely noticed the family eager to make conversation with me.
As their attempts became more persistent, I tentatively dragged myself away from my mental argument and began to speak. Through a mixture of broken English on their part and mime karaoke on mine, I gathered that they were visiting home, having fled to America over 20 years ago. Mr Henry and his wife were in their sixties and their daughter Arenye, in her early thirties, as such they had very different memories of the land they were returning to.
Soon enough I was invited to join them for lunch; starving after an overnight train ride from Bangkok, I agreed. This invitation was extended to stay with them in the home of their family. I was wildly confused about a number of things; if they lived in the States for so long why was their English so poor? Furthermore, if they had been away for twenty years, surely they would be more focused on meeting long-lost family, than picking up a backpacker. I did not feel threatened by them at all and their story sounded so interesting I thought I had to hear it. I never quite found out the answers to my queries, but ended up joining them on their adventure none-the-less.
Three days travelling with my newly adopted family and their estranged relatives, was more than an eye-opener. It was like the key into a world unavailable to tourists and I was thrilled with the invite. Over the course of those days we travelled many miles daily to meet their great-aunts, cousins, nieces, nephews and friends.
English was only spoken by a few of the family, and to no great extent, thus learning Laos was essential. During those sometimes interminable hours on the road, I managed to master a few of the basics. I also learned as much as I could about the family's departure from Laos through whispered comments and eager reading.
Communism spread to Laos as it did to Cambodia, at the end of the Vietnam War bringing political and social oppression to the country. As a result, the subsequent twenty years saw thousands of Laos people flee to refugee camps in Thailand and then to America. One night as we looked across the Mekong River, the life force of South-East Asia, I was told about their escape. They travelled by boat, across the Mekong, dodging bullets in their wake, to where they found sanctity in a Thai refugee camp.
Coming home for Mr Henry and his wife was to visit old friends and relatives, telling them of their lives in America, urging some to join them. For Arenye the trip was a chance to see her birthplace, of which she could remember very little. A chance to visit her husband’s family, showing them photographs of their family.
It struck me as odd, that from the second we met I was the centre of attention to the family they had been waiting to see for decades. It was possibly because I was European, thus assumed to be a rich tourist. Maybe I was a buffer to take the edge off the occasion.
Perhaps, I thought, I should bring somebody back with me; it would certainly deflect attention from me and my future, a cunning plan. The logistics of such a scheme soon baffled me and I decided to brave it alone.
Since I hadn’t left Dublin dodging bullets, what did it matter, that I still have no concrete idea what I want to do? With my fears firmly back in perspective, I focussed on more conventional backpacker worries like; where to stay that night? In addition to; would the bars stay open later in towns or cities? You can’t beat communism to put you back in your box.
By: Jessica McArdle
The opinions of writers featured on SpunOut.ie do not necessarily reflect the views of the SpunOut.ie team or those of Community Creations. We try to give everyone a chance to have their opinions heard but we are not responsible for inaccuracies contained within these.
