Pii Mai Lao, No Twitter Lao

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It’s that time again. I get drunk and I want to wipe my existence off social media again but good news, I’m not drunk (why not, right?) but do I want to wipe my face off of social media again? I’m back on Instagram but still am very uninspired from that so I’m still figuring that out. Still no Facebook because fuck Facebook. Then there’s Twitter. Oh, Twitter. Now that IG is on my shitlist, Twitter is my favorite form of #socmed because I learn a lot and I laugh even more. There are so many clever, hilarious, and very smart people #onthere from (literally) all walks of life. I’m not joking, look at my list of followings and you’ll see a variety of parents, activists, and more cool Lao people I did not know existed. It has ignited the activism bone that I always had but never knew how to express. Seriously, Twitter is awesome.

It is so awesome that I want to be a better twit …. terer. Sometimes I really think it’s great to walk away from something you love so you can step back and love it even more. Now that April is here, I have that excuse more now. April is the month of Pii Mai Lao (Lao New YearApril 13ish-15ish), which is arguably the biggest celebration of the year for Laotians, and I guess this would be the exact equivalent of “out with the old, in with the new” sentiment. Water is a huge symbol in celebrating Pii Mai so, for the month of April, I’m dousing the shit out of my twitter to take a hiatus from my favorite platform.

That’s where I feel guilty: the Lao online community is already so limited that I feel like I am removing another unknown perspective. I’m quite possibly many people’s only source to a Lao-American perspective in modern parenting, interracial marriage, refugee experiences, public education, and anything else you didn’t know Lao Americans were a part of. As sad as I am to leave this month, I know you’ll be in good hands. To follow the Lao Twitter experience while I’m gone, please check out @thaoworra‘s Lao Voices and Nicky Chaleunphone‘s Lao Community for fellow Laotians online.

If you want a visual reminder then my Instagram can showcase the Lao American experience in a few filters. If you need more details with lots of frilly word vomit, my blog has that tiny little unknown Lao voice so you won’t ever have to say, “No, I don’t know a Lao girl who writes about motherhood, marriage, and the world around her. Never. Nope.” because you’s a liar since I’m still here.

Am I the only Lao person you ‘know?’ Online or otherwise?

Follow my now vacant twitter hereFollow my nearly-discarded Instagram hereFollow my neglected blog on the sidebar

Wordless Wednesday – A Ceremonial Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor Away

If a normal apple a day keeps the doctor away, what about an apple that was a part of the ceremonial blessing for the New Year? An ode to baby-led weaning and Lao New Year with Humnoy!

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Wearing a Baby and a Grandmother’s Memory

Dear Grandmother Mone,

Although Humnoy was born long after your passing, I strive to provide your presence in his life and mine. You are my constant inspiration – this blog, parenting choices, and in karma. I wouldn’t be where I am without your memory of strong will and instinctive motherhood in a country I am grateful to know of but to not have been born in at a time of war reparation.

I wore your *sinh to Humnoy’s *phakhouane and most recently to Lao New Year. It was an unbelievable honor to be able to keep you and my baby close to my heart. I hope you are proud of me and that the blessings from the New Year reach to you and that you know how much I miss you.

Love,
Theek

*sinh, the traditional Lao skirt made of silk and cotton.

**phakhouane, a symbolic offering to the assembled gods and a a welcome mat and gift for the returning khouanes

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Humnoy Leads a Lao Dance Party!

Humnoy has been enjoying the authentic food, language, and definitely the music. Did I mention that he loves, like LOVES, to dance? No? Well, he really loves to, btw. Every major Lao celebration is complete when you have karaoke and drunk men dilly-dallying on the stage pretending to be a part of the band. Then you get drunk men on the dance floor. Throw in Humnoy in the mix and you get this: