The Big Freeze

The big freeze-

Dónal, who I met in Malaysia, met back up with me in Northern Vietnam and we are traveling through Laos together. On the bus from Sapa (Vietnam) across the border and into Luang Prabang (Laos) we met a group of 3 Canadian girls and an American guy that we linked up with. The 6 of us clocked 29 hours on the bus together, through washed out roads, fresh landslide debris, small villages and beautiful scenery. When we got in we hired a tuk tuk and went to go check out a cave and waterfall in the area. I carried only my camera and gave my ATM card to Dónal to hold until we got back to the hostel. We had an awesome day and carried on into the night to a bowling alley, where a German guy from our hostel joined us.

We were content with beer after killing a bottle of Jim Beam during the day, but ze German had other thoughts. They had $10 vodka bottles at the bowling alley, which was the only place open after 11, and away we went. He bought the first then we alternated. By the 2nd one we were taking pulls straight from the bottle, as you do. Ze German fell out first and exited stage left during the 3rd bottle. At this point our games consisted of bowling left handed, between the legs, behind the back, whatever. It also had a KPH speed clock which is a whole game in itself. In hindsight, the 3rd bottle probably wasn’t necessary, making the 4th bottle even less necessary and just a flat out bad idea. When the 4 of us still standing decided to finally leave it’s discovered that Dónal’s wallet, along with my ATM card inside, were things of the past. We race back to the hostel so I can call to cancel my card. When I get there I find out there is no phone to use. I grab my laptop to email the card company, but the internet is down. It’s around 4am and the only person working there that’s awake speaks no English. Because of my urgency he wakes the owner who, angry for being woken up, tells me it’s a scheduled outage and the internet won’t go back up till the morning. As we’re talking we hear a noise around the corner and find Dónal with his swollen, and possibly broken, hand (from punching a wall) is struggling trying to lift a motorcycle that he dumped. The motorcycle had a fork extending to the ground with no front tire and apparently big Dónal was going to ride that back to look for his wallet. The hostel owner shook his head and returned to his room. I followed suit.

The next morning I woke up early, with a nasty Jim Beam/cheap vodka hangover, to deal with my card. I quickly emailed the company telling them to freeze my account and tried searching for a phone. Two different people from the hostel volunteered their Skype minutes, which I attempted, but on both phones the connection wasn’t strong enough and I never got past the point of entering my account number. I am pointed to the direction of the post office that may have a phone I could use, but no luck. I find out that in this town pay phones don’t exist (but a bowling alley does). I went to get a SIM card, but the only ones they sold for an iPhone were data only and the SIM cards with calling plans didn’t fit my phone. They suggested going to the Internet cafe which allows use of their phone. In spite of my trying to call a toll free number they were still charging more than a dollar a minute, so I continued to look for other options. I went across the street to the local library to see if they had access to a phone. Someone allowed me use of their mobile, but I would have to get prepaid minutes to upload to their number first. I bought 25 minutes worth and set my stopwatch. The operator picks up quick, but after going through the verification motions they transfer me (as they do) to someone that deals specifically with debit cards. Finally someone picks up and asks “who am I speaking with?”, “Robert Shindelar”, “And what’s your account num….” {Dial tone}… I look down at my stop watch: 25:00:00. I hang up the phone and thank the person for letting me use it. Three hours have gone by since I’ve been trying to make that call and, out of options, I retreat back to the hostel in hopes that my email had been retuned. Still glossy eyed and sweating out booze I decide to stop by a sandwich shop that someone recommended the previous day. I was third in line and watched the painfully slow preparation of the chicken and avocado sandwich that I knew would cheer me up. When I got to the counter the girl apologizes “I’m sorry we just ran out of baguettes”… “Of course you did, why wouldn’t you have”

When I got back to the hostel I go online and there was no email returned so I sent a follow up email. When I checked the Bank of America website I saw they still had my ancient hotmail account for my default email. I click on the “update your personal information” link and sure enough I get the big red exclamation point with a boxed text [I’m sorry the page you are trying to access is undergoing maintenance, please try again later]. I sent a third email saying to please correspond using my gmail account and returned to hide myself in my room as it was apparently just not my day.

I have still not heard back from the bank, nor do I know what my options on getting a new card sent to me are and how long it will take. I have the equivalent of about $100 in Laos Kip, then I’m into my emergency reserves of the few hundred US dollars I have until I can get a new card. It seems I may be staying in Laos a little longer than originally planned.

Bob