When I first took this photo in a Laos village, I didn’t want to post it online. I felt like a pedophile, or I at least felt like I might be assisting pedophiles in doing whatever they do that makes them pedophiley. But I love this picture. It’s really what kids in Laos look like, and if that means that they don’t worry about covering their genitals, then the world should know that Laos is a place where genitals roam free and parents are more concerned with making sure their kids have their blessings tied on their wrists than the holes in their pants sewn shut (Or this could be a diaper alternative that I just don’t know about.). They live in huts of straw. They eat sticky rice for dinner. They wear shoes on occasion. They’ve never heard of computers. They grow their own food. They nap with water buffalo. Life is so easy.
This week I’ve been faced with a lot of technology. Not only do I have this whole iPhone thing to figure out, I’ve been tweeting. Fuck. I don’t want to do it, but it’s something “they” say I have to do if I want to get blog traffic and be a famous writer and leave advertising for good. So I’m doing it. I’m telling all my ‘followers’ how many times I sneeze per day, and then I’m turning to my phone to tell me when to menstruate, what Martha’s been cooking recently, and how I can get to a macrobiotic restaurant in the valley where my friends await me with a bottle of sulfite-free wine. I wear heels. I have a green-friendly car. I own stock. I shop organic. I just ordered curtains from UrbanOutfitters.com. Life is so easy.
My question is… What if I’d been born in Laos?
I’m so lucky.
Or am I?
