My Pair of Zip-off Pants: a Cansbridge Summer Metaphor
My final reflection on life in Vientiane, Laos, while working as a Sustainability Intern at Mekong Timber Plantations (MTP)
Black jeans. That’s what I wore on my first visit to an MTP planation, paired with steel-toed boots and a high-visibility vest, and they were nearly soaked through with sweat by the time we returned to the office for lunch. They felt like a thicker second skin I never asked for, and never wanted stuck to my body again.
So on my first weekend in town, I ventured towards Vientiane Centre, the city’s main mall. I do not normally like malls — like, at all — but this time was different, I had a mission. I was initially looking for some long, light-as-air bottoms that would allow me to traipse around field camp feeling both easy, and breezy. No mosquito needle would pierce my skin if fabric floated inches from my body at all times. No red ant would find its way up my leg if I could purchase a garment with sufficient length to be fashionably tucked into my socks. Employing the power of visualization, I believed I could make this dream a reality.
There was only one detail I neglected: the average Lao woman is under 5 feet tall. I am not. Mediums felt like children’s sizing, and ankle coverage was pure fantasy. After doing a few laps of the mall with no luck, I eventually stumbled upon a generic sports store. I wandered to the men’s section, as any woman secure in her femininity would, in hopes of finding a longer inseam.
And there they were. Dangling on a rack full of trousers featuring too many pockets, sandpaper-like textiles, and militarily-inspired colour schemes. They were beautiful. I tried them on and found they not only almost reached my ankles, but if I rolled up the waistband twice, the empty front space where male anatomy normally occupies wouldn’t even bunch up! Fabulous. I returned home and immediately sent the following picture to my good pal Peter. I knew he would appreciate a good zip-off clothing article, and was sure to model their versatility.
I’ve come to believe these zip-off pants serve as a powerful metaphor for my Cansbridge summer experience. Here are a few points illustrating how:
1. Ready for Anything
I had no expectations coming into this summer, I couldn’t formulate them even if I tried. I had never been to Asia, never worked in forestry, never lived in a new city with exactly zero pre-existing pals, and therefore had no frame of reference for what this experience could turn into. Consequently, I tried to keep an open mind and be ready for anything that would unfold. Similar to how my pants can be sported in the woods, on the river, or even out to dinner in the big city.
2. Can Get Dirty
One major lesson I’ll be taking away from this summer is the importance of learning about sustainability issues at ground-level, in order to better understand the context around the changes you are trying to make. Sometimes this involves leaving the office, and getting a little dirty. Just like my pants.
3. Short-Mode
The winning feature of these pants is obviously their ability to transform into some fantastically sporty shorts. The moment of zipping n’ stripping my lower trousers is barely different than the feeling that comes with trying to make friends in a new city. You have to shed a layer immediately and be more vulnerable than usual, in order to build relationships at the rate required when your potential days together are already numbered. Luckily I tend to treat most people like I’ve known them forever anyways — because its more fun, and maybe my boundaries are skewed — so perhaps this summer has forced me to be more comfortable with friendships in short-mode as well.
4. You Only Need One
The cliché stating “less is more” is genuinely accurate in this scenario. At many points this summer I would wear only these pants for days on end, and they would meet all my needs without fail. It’s been so refreshing living with very minimal wardrobe changes this summer — due to the fact I packed exactly one of each clothing type (except underwear) — and I can’t wait to carry over this form of *buzzwordalert* minimalism to regular life.
5. Let’s You Look the Part
I am (obviously) not a hardened forester, and 90% of my work involves typing on my computer in an air conditioned office instead of being out in the field. Nevertheless, when I put on these pants, I look the part. Which then means I feel the part, which means I then naturally act the part.
6. Many Pockets
I tend to approach life by always having something in my back pocket; I am a big believer in contingency plans. This summer allowed me to dig into pockets I didn’t even know I had. For example, I normally rely on solid doses of exercise and social time to feel physically and mentally well. However with switched up surroundings and routines, it’s given me an opportunity to diversify my ideas of fitness and fun as circumstances/weather/friends changed. While at home I opt for climbing gyms and park picnics, in Laos I’ve reached into my back pocket and embraced Zumba by the river, my side pocket for outdoor market takeout dinners, and my lower leg pocket for nighttime bike rides through thunderstorms.
7. The Belt Rolls Up!
Most importantly, these pants have taught me that things may not be perfect, but you can always roll up the belt. To me this means adapting to a situation and making it your own. While this summer certainly revealed a few anxieties I didn’t realize I had, it also revealed the power of optimism. Recently I learned the Lao term “Bo Pen Yang”, which essentially means “no worries”. Since becoming aware of this phrase, I now hear it everywhere. This has been very cool validation that when your brain is primed to accept positive affirmations and actions, it will naturally do so. Suddenly the worries seem fewer, and the carefree vibes flow a little easier.
Now as I retire from MTP, I will also retire the pants. In making this difficult decision, I often reflect back on the following quote:
People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. When you figure out which one it is, you will know what to do for each person.
I strongly believe these babies were here just for a season: summer 2019, to be exact. I would say they now are “out of season”, but to be honest I don’t think they were ever in. Nevertheless, they were my best friends for the summer, you could even say we were attached at the hip.
Now I know what to do, leave them in Laos for someone else to live in. As for me, I am off to catch a plane — pantless — back to Canada! Home.
