Julia Steinecke
Special to the Star

VIENTIANE–It's pouring rain but I'm determined to find a gay bar in the capital of Laos. My tuk-tuk driver has a note with a name, Pack Luck, and approximate location, written in Lao by a bilingual local, and after turning around twice, we pull up to a neon sign with a rainbow flag.

I dash inside and find myself in a tiny, dimly lit space with a sprinkling of customers. A friendly expat strikes up a conversation with me and explains the difference between UXO (unexploded ordinance) and land mines. Laos, the most heavily bombed country in history (according to the Lao Unexploded Ordinance Program), is covered with UXO, which he's helping remove.

In the middle of this, my friend, Anan, arrives, flipping his shiny scarf. Anan, who works as a Peer Education Project Co-ordinator for MSM ("men who have sex with men"), has been telling me about LGBT life in Laos and charming me with his infectious laugh.

Tomorrow, Anan will lead a workshop on how to persuade teenage boys to use condoms. Part of the challenge is that there's only one brand of condoms available in Laos, called, ironically, "#1" and it's available in only one size.

Because of HIV, the government supports health-related organizations working with MSM and this has raised gay men's self-esteem and visibility in Lao society.

Things are different for lesbians, who live in isolation; none of the gay men I've spoken to know any lesbians. Transwomen, of whom I've seen several in Vientiane, have some visibility because of their presence in Thai media, broadcast widely in Laos.

The community can't organize social or recreational events without government permission, and clearance is mainly given for serious things like HIV prevention training and MSM drop in-centres where any man can go for counselling, workshops, English classes, games and camping trips.

LGBT tourists have an easier time than locals. Sharing hotel rooms and beds is a non-issue, I'm told, even in remote village homestays.

Public displays of affection are not common among Lao people of any orientation, so it's best for tourists to follow suit. A tourist dating a local might meet with some negative reaction because folks will assume the local person is a sex trade worker.

Theoretically, sex between tourists and locals is against the law but this is hardly ever enforced.

Even in Luang Prabang, which has a mandatory bar closing time of 11:30 p.m., I was advised by the gay bar owner to "stick with the Lao people; they know how to party."

After Khob Chai closes, Somphorn Boupha and his staff like to go bowling for a few hours. As another resident tells me, "When Somphorn goes to the bowling alley, it's a gay spot."

In Vientiane, it's almost midnight when the show begins at Pack Luck. The place is full now, with locals and a few falang (foreigners). More friends have joined us. Stage lights shine at the far end, and a series of female impersonators in elegant attire act out a full range of emotions as they lip-synch to American and Asian pop songs. I can hear Anan humming along.

When the show ends and we get ready to go, a local woman strides up, sits on top of me and begins dancing. She offers me a dazzling smile and rubs her body against mine. I turn a little red and my friends smile. After a while she gives up and walks away.

It's still pouring rain when we step into the night. Anan assigns me to another friend's scooter and we ride, three scooters abreast, laughing as we get soaked.

As we pull onto the riverside road, Anan announces, "OK, Julia, you wanted to hear me sing, so, this song is dedicated to you."

Then he belts out When Will I See You Again? his powerful voice easily hitting all the high notes. He closes his eyes against the rain and steers by instinct – every few moments he wipes away the water streaming down his face.

"Do you like Edith Piaf?" he asks me, his eyes shining. Then he sings an unforgettable rendition of La Vie En Rose, in the pouring rain, flying along the banks of the MekongRiver.

Next Month: The Handsome Girls of Laos.