A Stream of Consciousness While Consuming an Almond Croissant
Welcome to the first instalment of three written reflections on my time here in Vientiane, Laos, working as a Communications/Business Development Intern in the Sustainability Department of Mekong Timber Plantations (MTP).
After 22 years (happy almost birthday to me! Cue Taylor Swift song!), I’m only starting to figure myself out. I believe that only through experiences and careful observation of reaction can one really form a sense of self-identity. I hope this exercise will enable me to be more in tune with my reactions to the various phases of this summer experience, so I can then design the next stages of my life to spark growth towards the identity that fits best.
Up until this point, upon reflecting on a variety of memories, I’ve come to believe that I tend to live on either ends of a spectrum at any given time. Introversion, extroversion. Risk-taking, risk-averse. Leader, follower. Wannabe specialist, chronic generalist. Doer, analyzer. Protects independence, needs community. Boundless energy, just wants to lie in the grass. I haven’t quite learned to settle in the middle of any of these scales, so begins a frequent internal debate as to where I belong and with whom. It’s entirely likely I’m simply describing the human condition, but indulge me for a moment in believing I’m unique. After all, it’s my birthday sort of.
I knew I wanted to work in Asia since making it to the Cansbridge Fellowship finals in 2017, a year before actually (fortunately, surprisingly, amazingly!) being selected. I had been craving a comfort zone stretch, knowing full well that my most joyous memories have manifested immediately following some sort of physical/mental/emotional trial. The high after a running race, understanding a topic after being utterly confused every class, or seeing the sun after days of rain on an outdoor trip. The fellowship selection process sold me on the value of immersing oneself in one of the world’s most quickly developing economies, and I couldn’t wait to experience a different culture and way of life than what I’ve grown up with in Canada.
“Fine = forgettable, and miserable = memorable”, wise words by James Raffan, an educator with one of my all-time favourite organizations, Students on Ice.
Additionally, I am so grateful to be surrounded by friends who push themselves towards experiences like this — living abroad, knowing nobody, with the purpose of learning or working — seemingly constantly. So, it was about time I followed in the footsteps of those I greatly admire. In the months leading up to my arrival here in Laos, I was majority stoked, minority concerned of disconnection to the people and activities that keep me thriving. Side note, thriving: what an extraordinarily lucky way to be. I often am struck by reminders that this state is a product of the numerous opportunities I’ve been handed over the course of my life. To feel the world is your playground and you can design any life you want, I’ve done nothing really to deserve that. Better carpe friggin diem and do what I can to help others feel the same.
Back to business: before touching down in Vientiane, I spent a few nights in Vietnam to adjust to being solo in Asia. That went swimmingly, I had a blast walking around Hanoi and then visiting Ha Long Bay with new friends. I find fresh sights, smells, sounds, and tastes exhilarating. However, I was nervous in the plane ride to Laos, until I chatted with a girl around my age who was going to run a workshop at the UN. She reminded me to get let go of expectations for the experience and for my own performance at work, to simply live in the present and do my best, and know that three months will fly by.
My first week here was a bit of a rollercoaster (what a thoroughly exhausted, but perfectly relevant metaphor!), and I’ve never been a big fan of Canada’s Wonderland… In life, I prefer to stay within a tight range of calmness and steady contentment. This involves seeking highs but avoiding lows all together, which I realize sounds slightly robotic. But everyone says this summer in Asia is supposed to test us! Consequently, initially I found myself focussing on how I should be feeling, instead of being aware of how I actually am. I spent most evenings safe and comfortable in my room, yet at times would feel trapped. I’d be lying if I said I was not stressed out by stray dogs and crossing busy streets. My confidence has been evolving and I’ve since wanted to venture further, but have given myself permission to let this happen naturally.
On the flip side, I’ve also had some serious highs so far. Wandering through the market with my Lao landlady, downing a mountain of 15,000 kip fried rice in a straw-roofed hut, marvelling at sunsets over limestone cliffs. I’ve soaked up these moments like they are water and I’ve just spent weeks in the desert. In the first few fresh days in Laos, I’d sometimes think to myself “I belong in the developing world and I never want to leave!”, temporarily losing sight of the privilege that allows me to exist in relative luxury here. But then I’d get in my own head (as I do, apparently), remember that I’m just at the beginning of this adventure, and then start counting down the weeks until I can collapse into my own bed back in Toronto.
I think these conflicting emotions illustrate the most puzzling spectrum of my identity. On one end, I am tied to being outside my comfort zone. I relish in visiting our field camp in Laos’ stunning Khammouane Province, marching around MTP’s plantations in my steel-toed boots and kind of hoping to see a King Cobra on the side of the road.
On the other end, I am drawn precisely to that same comfort zone. That is why today I’ve sheltered myself at Annabelle’s, a beautiful French-inspired café no more than a 3-minute bike ride from my apartment, with an almond croissant.
Fun fact: this would be topped as my favourite pastry only by its close cousin, the widely celebrated chocolate almond croissant. Are you taking notes? Remember, it’s almost my birthday!
All in all, it’s Sunday morning, the sun is shining, and we’re doing well in Laos. I am pumped to get to the office tomorrow to hit the ground running with some projects, and then to stay again in one of MTP’s dreamy cabins in the field later this week. It’s been a treat so far to learn about business sustainability and risk management on the ground, directly from my incredible colleagues. My primary focus this summer is to absorb all the knowledge they kindly offer up on a daily basis. Beyond this, I’ve decided to shed all expectations (this is a new concept for me, but I’m loving it so far).
Back in Canada I usually put pressure on myself to fill every minute of a day with activities, otherwise feeling uneasy if I simply return home with no plans or people to meet. For various reasons, here I am embracing:
- slow early mornings
- lazy evenings at home when it’s dark and storming
- taking time to research topics I’ve not prioritized learning about
- sitting with a good podcast or playlist
- meeting new folks here in the city
- deepening pre-existing relationships with phone calls instead of messages
- practicing mindful instead of passive reading
- stretching and strengthening, but revelling in a run when I can
- trying new foods with names I can’t pronounce
- staying informed with global happenings
- feeding my brain new words in Lao, French, and Spanish? Yea Duolingo!
- giving myself the headspace to think about how I want to design my future
What an absolute privilege to have 12 weeks in Laos — featuring kind people, majestic landscapes, and an abundance of spicy food — to stretch and learn and grow. A great woman once said, “we’re happy free confused and lonely in the best way”. Cheers to 22!
