Saturday, December 31, 2011

Hunting the Baby Snatcher and PD'ing my Princess (Laos)

Lindsey's amigos!
South Dakota’s former resident (singular), baby crazed Lindsey Pooka (crazy), repeatedly claimed to have friends in high places (Mount Rushmore.) Believing that this gave her diplomatic immunity (as anyone would), she decided to walk out into the jungle carrying a Laotian baby from our host village, loudly proclaiming it as her own. 

This being Laos, none of the men moved (or even really noticed.) until our guide translated Lindsey's declaration to mom.
The ensuing motherly cry of anguish sparked the paternal instinct of the male villagers to such a high degree that instantly, and with the precision of a formation of military jets changing course, they all rolled over in their hammocks and covered their ears. (To be fair, given the day's humidity, it would have been hard to spark anything.)
Lindsey "Rushmore" Pooka making her getaway
When mom finally gave up yelling and started crying incoherently, it donned on a wise elder that the odds being made dinner by any of the village women in the next century would decrease dramatically if their inaction became known  (and who wants to risk that) and worried she might tattle on them (she's the type who would), he did what any red blooded male would in his situation- he shot her. No just kidding, he quietly ordered the men to hunt down Lindsey.
Beautiful emerald green jungle scenery
The Hunt
Fearing for Rushmore's safety, I joined the men, knowing I would likely have the unenviable role of acting as a buffer between her and death. This thought crosses my mind as I narrowly dodge a striking king cobra I came far too close to stepping on. The irony is not lost on me.
The jungle requires your whole focus be your next step.
Laotian villagers use this gun to illegally hunt animals and baby snatchers
"We have her scent!" shouted one of the trackers, referring to Lindsey's ultra-cheap Laotian made perfume commonly sprayed in rings around crops to ward off feral pigs.
We caught up to Lindsey at the edge of a beautiful waterfall.
"I have diplomatic immunity!!" yells Lindsey to the semi-circle of Laotian men, as they raised their guns. She looks scared, like a cornered animal.
"I'll jump!" she threatens.
"That would make it easier," respond the men, dropping their guns momentarily to wipe their brows.
"I'll take the baby with me!"
"Rabble, rabble, rabble, rabble," the men discuss the predicament amongst themselves in Laotian, while Lindsey edges closer to the ledge.
Here comes the buffer.
Laotian waterfall
"Lindsey you don't want to do this!" I shout.
"Yes I do," she answers.
"No, you don't," I counter in a simplistic logic, understandable to the female mind.
"But I want a baby!"
"But that baby belongs to someone else."
"I tell you what, give me that baby, and I'll share my baby with you."
Lindsey bows her head slightly, as if accepting. I slowly approach, she gently hands off the baby into my arms, I take it back to the Laotians, who promptly disperse, eager to return the child to the mother, hoping that they'll be rewarded with dinner.
I watch them leave, then walk back over to Lindsey, who has tears streaming down her face.
"I miss my baby," she sobs. I wipe a tear off her face. Despite being Looney-Tunes, she really is a sweet girl.
"Let me tell you about my Goddaughter Dannika," I tell her, my heart aching for the small child I've helped raise since she was a tiny-tot. "She is so cute, and so sweet, and mischievous, I miss her so much. One of the worst things about travelling for so long is--
"I miss my baby," we both coo in unison. We pause and look at each other, then look back over the falls.
"Sometimes when I'm thousands and thousands of miles away, I think of her doing something funny, and I smile. Sometimes I just miss her soooo much, and wish she was in my arms so I could give her a big hug and kiss. The worst thing of being gone so long is that I don't get to see her grow up."
Me and my favorite miscreant a couple years ago
"You don't even have her here?! You lied to me! How can you share her?!" complains Lindsey.
I calm her down.
"When she was small, she always wanted to be a Princess when ever we played, so I called her Princess Dannika, or 'PD' for short. Whenever I see her, I get very excited, and I often throw my arms over my head and yell out 'PPPPPPPDDDDDDD' at the top of my lungs. She secretly loves it, cause she knows it means I love her and how important she is to me, she just gets embarrassed when I do it in public."
"Who wouldn't? Duh."
"Well listen Linds, if you want to make a small child feel loved and cared then PD her with me right now. I'll show you how."
"Ummm. No thanks."
"Didn't I just save your life?"
So Lindsey, being a good sport, decides to go along with it. You'll see the evidence in the below video.

--PD'ing my princess in Laos--

"You look so bashful," I tell her after watching the video.
"I find you so embarrassing."
Yeah, just imagine how my Goddaughter must feel.


  1. Just loved every bit, thanks for sharing the experience and wonderful video! LisaTravelers

  2. Well, it certainly looks like you guys had a lot of fun in Laos. It's definitely refreshing to see that there are still parts of the world covered in lush jungle.



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