Khamxay and I were all alone in the office this Thursday afternoon when suddenly, through our glass door, we saw someone wandering around the Center’s courtyard.

With the summer break currently underway, there are no classes and thus the place is pretty quiet. No parents on motorbikes driving their children through our gates. No noisy kids running about, waiting for class to begin. No junior high students leisurely sauntering through the gates with cell phones in hand.

Just me and Khamxay holding down the fort, with caretaker Suher holed up working on his computer in the small dining room next to the outside kitchenette.

“Khamxay, ” I piped up. “I know that person! It’s our village chief.”

What’s a Village Chief?

I posted about village chiefs when I first came.

” Village Chiefs function at the lowest level of government. They are responsible for communicating and implementing central government policies while also playing a pivotal role in determining if what villagers want, or wish to avoid, is acted on.”

Vientiane (the capital city, where I live) has 11 districts and 152 villages. I would consider a village chief to be somewhat the equivalent of a US city council member, who represents different districts (neighborhoods) of a town or city.

To be a candidate for a village chief in Laos, the person must belong to the Communist Party and be elected by the villagers in the area. They receive no government salary but receive funding from the government for special projects and administrative costs. Monetary gifts given by residents for special events also help to pay for activities that all villagers are invited to, such as holiday celebrations thrown at the village hall.

Our Village Chief’s Visit

Khamxay and I scurried quickly outside to greet our surprise VIP visitor.

Village Chief Buaphaeng is new to the role, just having been voted into his position in January. I was invited to his meet-and-greet for our village, Bounphon. The invitation was quite an honor. In the past, the Center nor foreigner had ever been included in the opening meeting. How nice that I, a newcomer to Laos, was given a formal invitation to attend.

Part of that invitation was due to a more formal visit from me, bringing a gift basket on behalf of the Center and myself as the new director of SLVC. (See below)

I also saw Village Chief Buaphaeng once again for Laos New Year festivities, the Water Festival, where I and staff member Khamxay enjoyed gathering with the neighborhood at the Village Chief headquarters to celebrate.

What was the Visit’s Occasion?

Today’s visit had Mr. Buaphaeng doing his neighborhood rounds. He mentioned to Khamxay that he heard a “boom!” and was driving around back alleyways and down side streets, ours being one of them, to investigate. Our gate was open so in he came.

I must say, our Center is not in the best condition. As you know, we suffer from plumbing problems, roof leaks, broken concrete, gutters in disrepair and rusted.

Thank goodness for Suher, our recently-hired caretaker. One of his first tasks had been tackling weeds. He’d taken a scythe and filled 4 bags of overgrown bushes and sprouting branches from tree trunks when he first came. What a magnificent difference that had made!

He’d swept well that morning so we were not littered with squashed mangos (all dropping from our mango trees), the constant deluge of fallen leaves or the giant palm branches as well as coconuts from our coconut trees.

Yesterday’s task had him scooping up with a shovel the sticky muck that had gathered under the motorcycle shelter. Our incessant rain, day and night, has caused gushing riverlets carrying dirt, leaves, and twigs to pool where we park our motorbikes. Our bike wheels had been slipping and sliding under the muddy mess. And when we dismounted, our shoes became caked in filth which we dragged into our office spaces. Suher’s efforts took care of that one, as you can see below.

One less humiliating visual our village chief had to survey.

We are definitely tidy but in obvious disrepair. As a language center, compared to all the fancy ones around the city (which charge hundreds of dollars for classes), we don’t present the best appearance. Yet we now have a growing reputation for not only being affordable and accommodating to our learners, but having very professional teaching, above and beyond those other pricey establishments.

After our brief talk with Mr. Buaphaeng, his first time to visit us, we invited him into the office for a water bottle give-away (this is the go-to gift handed out to all guests in Laos) and some hard coffee candies. That’s all we had to offer. He guzzled the water and took a sparse few candies for his pockets. We then ushered him out the gate for him to continue on his rounds.

I did make sure to thank him for welcoming me to Laos with invitations to our village events. That made me feel like a part of the community, as a foreigner.

He also answered me in English, which I was quite impressed by. Not many village chiefs can communicate in English. It certainly is needed as the ex-pat community in the capital city, Vientiane, is substantial. So many foreigners here: overseas NGO’s, embassy workers, international schools, travelers, retired folk . . . This is why we offer free English classes to village chiefs who would like to learn enough to talk to their foreign visitors. Hopefully, those will start up again in September.

Other Moments of Embarrassment

Aside from the state of the buildings, we had two more embarrassments of note.

First was my attire. I was not expecting the need to look somewhat decent or presentable, especially with the relaxed schedule. I had on my ragged jean shorts and Laos T-shirt which, while clean, was not exactly the appearance one would want to present to your village leader.

The second was our two Laos thatched-roof huts.

I inherited these from the previous director who bought them 5 years ago for kids to hang out in. As it ended up, there were no kids as no one signed up for classes years ago. When Covid hit, the Center went to a few online teaching courses. And currently, none of my students want to be outside in the heat while waiting for classes. They are in the main hall, playing tabletop games in the air-conditioning, or enjoying throwing basketballs into the one hoop we have. So basically, for 5 years, the huts just sat there and became more and more dilapidated as the years went on.

I’ve been here for 7 months and have wanted them gone but keep forgetting to bring it up in our staff meetings as we have so many other issues to deal with.

Khamxay’s remarks after our village chief left , however, certainly put those huts at the top of my things-to-do list once again.

“Connie, you know, I was so embarrassed,” he lamented as soon as we re-entered the gate. “I wanted to hide my face in shame when the village chief saw those huts. His eyes looked at them and I know what he is thinking. How ugly they are. So Terrible!! We must do something. It looks bad for our Center.”

“I know, Khamxay,” I responded. “I absolutely agree. I had that on my list months ago but just got busy with other things. Don’t worry, though. We’ll get this taken care of!”

I then went directly into my office, opened the computer and put on our agenda for the weekly Monday morning meeting: “Ugly Laos huts: Repair? Sell? Haul away? Other ideas?”

I’m not forgetting to deal with these eyesores this time around. Our village chief said it all with his tell-all glance, according to Khamxay’s astute observation, so deal with it we will.

Until next time, Connie in Laos signing off.