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My parents and I went shopping at the famous open market (Talaso) in Vientiane on our last day in the country. Everything was so cheap, and I admitted, I ate almost 5lbs of Lychee AND 5lb Logans by myself. Ah, the trip was worth it just getting to eat those fresh fruits.

That evening, my cousins took us to explore an area in the city that was built by Japan along the Mekong River and right across from the Thailand border. It had a modern feel compared to the rest of the developing city and provided a space for walkers and joggers. It felt wierd to be standing on a boardwalk that looked so similar to Santa Cruz, CA yet was a world’s apart from California.

While we were living in the refugee camps in Thailand, my aunt left the family and got married. I was too young to remember her but my family spoke of “the aunt who got left behind” all the time growing up. My aunt and I met for the first time. She lived two hours east of Nong-Hai Village. Her house was nested between two hills, the north side led to a Laos Village and the south side led to a Hmong Village, and the closest market was an hour car ride away. Apparently, she had just moved to this part of town and was currently the only resident on the block.