Always and Forever

As I mentioned, yesterday was a pretty fantastic day. I had already decided that Muang Ngoi is a place I will always remember, for its peace, its beauty and for its people. I love the Lao people. They are some of the kindest people I’ve met in SE Asia. They don’t yell. They don’t seem vulgar in any way. If you say hello or offer a greeting they will almost always return it. They live simply and peacefully, making babies with due diligence (there are children EVERYWHERE), and the people are beautiful—men and women, adults and children. They are all beautiful, gentle people.
Muang Ngoi is just a small village on the riverside, only reachable by boat, where the generators only come on from about 7pm to 10pm. The food available depends on what they’ve received from the nearest town/market recently, and only what they can keep fresh on blocks of melting ice. Life is simple here. You come to appreciate the stillness, the silence, and the lack of electronic-associated stimuli. Last night however, something else occurred which will leave Muang Ngoi forever imprinted in my memories.
It ended up being a pretty quiet night. I think we were all pretty tired from the physical excursion of floating and tubing down the river. (Obviously, it wasn’t exhausting at all, but somehow none of us were too inclined to do much more than sit around.) Darren and I had a light, late dinner, sat around and talked with our new friend Caitlyn, and then he went to go spend some time with the boys and Caitlyn and I took the opportunity to have a little girl chat.
Once the sleep set in, I left Caitlyn to her hammock and went to begin reading the book I had just picked up (the infamous Eat, Pray, Love) while waiting for Darren to come to bed. Only three or so chapters in and Darren came back. The generators had been turned off and there was no light, anywhere. We were lying in bed in our riverside bungalow when he said, “If I asked you to marry me would you say yes?” This isn’t the first time he’s asked me a question like this and I replied, “Of course” but didn’t think much of it. So, when a moment later he said those simple words, “Will you marry me?” I almost thought he was kidding. I was taken off guard, but managed a “Yes” regardless. He told me that countless opportunities have presented themselves over the past few months (especially on the sunset beaches of Malaysia) but he didn’t ask then because he didn’t have a ring. He told me he was sorry because he still didn’t have a ring, but he couldn’t wait anymore. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t fancy. There were no bells or whistles, no candlelit dinner or moonlit walk on the beach. He didn’t get down on one knee and I don’t have the most romantic, spectacular story to tell all my friends, but it was perfect. It was as I had always imagined it. Just the two of us. Lying in bed. Happy.
So, there it is. After six years, it has finally happened—simple and just as it was always meant to. Once we’re back in the real world with an income, we’ll worry about a ring and all the other formalities. But until then, it’s official. I even double checked this morning. We’re engaged!