What is the wedding?
In the glade, a small distance from the small wooden houses spread to a dozen tents. Apparently, all began early in the morning: it was in the midst of merriment, the clone to the apogee. Scores are not the most sober of Lao eyes opened in astonishment at the sight of a foreign guest. Some of the men in the years say thoughtfully:
- American ... 1
Tables are covered with all kinds of Lao food. Salad of papaya, finely-cut roast pork, sticky rice noodles, and of course the «Birlao» and lao-lao 2. A woman of forty years, invited me to the table, behind which sat the nine people: men, women, a pair of young girls. Immediately was awarded glass lao-lao:
- Cheers! - And raised a glass of Lao silence smiles. Moonshine was pleasant to the taste and is easy to perceive. Go around the table slowly run a middle-aged man in the colorful shirt popular cut. The sleeves slightly wrapped wrists and drag gum, people at tables suyut sleeve rolled currency. I have contributed in foreign currency: $ 50 bills.
- This is a club gathering, - commented the man at the table to the left of me - can not be taken in hand, happiness is not.
Talk to me did it in good English. In the 80 years he studied in the Soviet KGB in the school. But now it is - the head of the village, where we gather.
- Where is the bride and groom?
- They are not here. In the bedroom already. And we celebrate and wish them a happy life.
- They left the guests after the marriage?
- Not so ... we do not have registration. Simply, they have decided to be a husband and wife, and was invited to the village for the wedding. Here we have gathered, young pobyli here, we wished them good, and they wanted to retire. It usually happens ... but what else needs a wedding?
Meanwhile, a roadside park Motobike old man. In view of 60 years, and I was sure that he was under 80. Laotyane always looked very young. He otvyazal large bundle from the back seat of a motorcycle. Something big was wrapped in a dark-blue cloth, and firmly pull off a rope.
- This is - the groom's grandfather, - explained the woman and poured me another «Birlao», - Goat ...
Because of huge loudspeakers «fossil» columns smack lilis folk motifs.
- I - Manivon, went dancing - has invited me to a girl, continues to bestow his attention.
Lao dance - this is not tango. And do not even slow dance. Men and women stand on one against the other and gently wiggle. At the same time, more people do not dance, but their hands. Hands vyutsya like a snake, something invisible hand of strokes and all of this slowly paced sound, departing from the meter columns. Bass beat on the feet of the sound wave. Manivon smiles. Without understanding the language of Lao dance, dance, I quickly naskuchivaet, and I go back to the table. In the meantime, the woman served the table with new dishes.
The girl has cleared the banana and roll them in the air in front of you hinting at something obscene. She gave me the fruit. I took it, made an appearance that does not understand and did not notice. Gash «Birlao».
