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Message sent by: Kongkeo Saycocie <saycocie@sonic.net>
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In general, I wasn't considered naughty at all.  In fact, I was a good kid.
Still, what my mom told me about my childhood years was different from what
I perceived myself to be.  One of such stories was that I insisted on having

my own way.  It happened like this:
I cried for some unknown reasons.  At that time, I was downstairs while my
mom was upstairs.  She then asked me kindly to come upstairs and let her
know what was going on. Turning a deaf ear to her, I cried louder and
louder. Maybe, she couldn't stand my crying or she was just afraid that I
would pass out so she came downstairs to tend to my concern.
Still, on one occassion during the That IngHang festival, my dad took me to
watch the soccer game. So bored that the game went on and on, I pleaded to
my dad to take me home. Maybe, because he was enthralled by the game, he
didn't pay much attention to my plea.  Realizing that he wouldn't leave
until
the game had been over, I decided to take off alone.
For those who don't know how far That InHang is and how scary to walk home
by
yourself.  That InHang is about 10 miles away from downstown Savannakhet.
Stretching that distance is only a few pockets of houses here and there.
The
more you are away from downstown, the less you see houses.  That means
trees envelopes both sides of the road most of the time.  Once in a while,
you
will see rice fields along with a thatched house.
Luckily, on that day, I got some companions when I took off for a couple of
minutes later. They were some young monks, maybe 11 or 12 years old, walking

home too. Still, it didn't deprive me of how tiring I was to walk home in
such
a distance. The day was hot and we carried no water with us. Fortunately,
along the road, whenever we came across a house, no matter how poor it was,
it had a bowl of water for us travellers. I guess that is the Lao
hospitality
we should be proud of.

At Lak 4 (km 4) beside the chicken farm, while being exhausted, we were
greetingly
picked up by an army truck. Asking where we were going, they kindly dropped
us at
our destination: the monks at their temples and me at my home.
When the truck dropped me off, my mom hardly believed her eyes that I was
home
without my dad. No need to tell you how mad she was with my dad when he was
finally home.  He told mom that he looked for me every place at That IngHang
with
the thought I would still be there somewhere. I guess he didn't know how
stubborn
his son was, and maybe, still is. With that incident behind, my dad had to
keep a
close eye on me wherever we went somewhere together. The last memory I had
associated with that event was that I was so hungry that I devoured all that
was in
front of me.

(to be continued)

_
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