Getting Ready for a Special Morning When I opened my eyes on this particular morning, the vibe in the room was entirely different from our usual lazy wake-ups. It wasn’t just another regular day of our backpacking itinerary; it was August 17th, Indonesia’s Independence Day. Back home, this day usually meant waking up to the sounds of neighborhood competitions, the loud speakers playing national anthems, and the sight of red and white flags lining every street corner. Being so far away from home on such an important national holiday felt a little strange, but also deeply special.
Because we were scheduled to attend the official flag-raising ceremony at the Indonesian Embassy (KBRI) in Vientiane, we couldn’t just wear our usual wrinkled, sweat-stained backpacking clothes. We all scrambled to dig through the very bottom of our backpacks, trying to find the neatest, cleanest shirts we had left. We took turns in the bathroom, tried our best to look presentable, and made sure we looked like proper representatives of Indonesian youth. There was a buzz of excitement in the air as we stepped out of the accommodation and made our way to the embassy.
A Piece of Home and the Choir Panic Stepping through the gates of the KBRI compound felt literally like stepping through a magical portal right back to Indonesia. After days of struggling with language barriers and feeling like outsiders in Vietnam and Laos, hearing everyone around us casually speaking in Bahasa Indonesia was incredibly comforting. Seeing the embassy staff in their formal batik and the red and white flag ready to be hoisted gave me a sudden, overwhelming wave of national pride.
However, that pride quickly turned into a moment of pure panic. Shortly after we arrived, the embassy officials kindly informed us that our backpacking group was assigned a very special task: we were going to be the official paduan suara (choir) for the ceremony.
We looked at each other with wide eyes. We weren't professional singers, and we definitely hadn't practiced. As the ceremony progressed in solemn silence, we were called to perform our first song, the deeply emotional "Bagimu Negeri." The music started playing, and reality hit us like a brick—almost none of us actually remembered the full lyrics. The song has a slow, dramatic tempo, which made our lack of preparation even more obvious. Instead of a proud, booming choir, our performance turned into a desperate mix of awkward mumbling, intense whispering, and humming. We were side-eyeing each other, desperately hoping the few guys who actually knew the words would sing loudly enough to cover up the fact that the rest of us were just moving our lips. I was trying so hard to maintain a serious, patriotic face while internally holding back laughter.
Thankfully, the universe gave us a chance to redeem ourselves. The second song was the upbeat, iconic "Hari Merdeka" (17 Agustus). The moment the energetic intro played, our confidence skyrocketed. This was the one song every Indonesian knows completely by heart. We didn't hold back. We practically shouted the lyrics with explosive energy, perfectly hitting every beat. It was loud, proud, and absolutely redeemed our disastrous first song.
The Royal Feast and PPI Sharing After the formal flag-raising ceremony concluded and the tension faded, the atmosphere turned incredibly warm and festive. The Ambassador and the head officials of the embassy came over to greet us personally. They were incredibly welcoming, treating us like their own kids. But the absolute best part of the morning was what came next: the food.
The embassy had prepared a massive, lavish buffet to celebrate the holiday, and they invited us to eat as much as we wanted. After our traumatizing 30-hour bus ride where we literally starved, and days of rationing dry bread and instant noodles, laying our eyes on authentic Indonesian catering was a deeply emotional experience. There were trays of richly spiced meats, vegetables, and, most importantly, real Indonesian sambal. We grabbed our plates and piled them as high as physically possible. I didn't care about manners at that point; I devoured the food. Every single bite tasted like a masterpiece. The rich, familiar spices instantly cured whatever homesickness we had.
With our stomachs stretched to their absolute limits, we were invited to sit down for a sharing session with PPI (Perhimpunan Pelajar Indonesia) Laos. Three Indonesian university students who were currently living and studying in Laos took the floor. With full bellies, we leaned back and listened to their stories. Just like the session in Vietnam, they shared the funny, challenging, and unique realities of being foreign students. They talked about adapting to the extremely laid-back Lao culture, the cost of living, and the quirks of studying in a landlocked country. It was a fascinating conversation that gave us great context before we started our official exploration of the city.
The City Tour: Surviving the Golden Oven By midday, we finally kicked off our Laos City Tour. Our first major destination was Pha That Luang, a massive, iconic golden stupa that is considered the most important national monument in Laos.
From a distance, the architecture was undeniably breathtaking. The giant, multi-layered structure was completely covered in gold leaf, standing majestically against the blue sky. However, getting up close to it required enduring a brutal physical trial. The weather in Vientiane that afternoon was absolutely unforgiving. The sun was positioned directly above us, beating down with a fierce intensity. To make matters worse, there were barely any trees or shade around the monument's massive concrete plaza.
The heat radiating off the stone floor, combined with the blinding sunlight bouncing directly off the golden walls, made the area feel like a giant, glaring oven. We were squinting so hard we could barely keep our eyes open. We tried to line up for a nice group photo, but everyone was already sweating through the neat clothes we had worn to the embassy. We smiled for the cameras while silently begging for the photo session to be over. As beautiful as the monument was, we couldn't wait to escape the boiling temperatures.
An Oasis of Air Conditioning: Parkson Mall Desperate for shelter, our guides took us to our next destination: Parkson Mall. It is known as one of the most famous and modern shopping centers in Laos. As we approached the sliding glass doors, I was already anticipating the relief. The moment we stepped inside, the blast of central air conditioning hit my sweaty face, and it was the most glorious feeling in the world.
To be completely honest, if I were to compare it to the massive, labyrinth-like malls in Jakarta or other big cities, Parkson Mall felt a bit underwhelming. It wasn't completely filled with stores, and some sections felt quite empty and quiet. The variety of brands was somewhat limited. But at that exact moment, none of us cared even a little bit. We didn't come to buy high-end fashion; we came to survive the heat. We happily embraced the somewhat empty mall. We spent the next couple of hours just aimlessly strolling through the aisles, enjoying the cool air, chatting, and letting our body temperatures finally return to normal. It was a much-needed, highly relaxing pause in the middle of a chaotic day.
The Hustle of the Night Market After our bodies had fully cooled down and the sun had finally set, taking the harsh heat with it, we moved on to our final destination of the day. At around 7:30 PM, we arrived at the famous Vientiane Night Market, which usually stretches out near the Mekong River.
The atmosphere was electric. The night market was a sea of identical red-tented stalls, brightly lit and packed with locals and tourists alike. The air was filled with the chatter of bargaining and the smell of street food. This was our designated time to hunt for souvenirs. I wandered through the narrow, crowded aisles, my eyes scanning the endless displays of traditional clothing, bags, and trinkets.
My main goal was simple: keychains and fridge magnets for the people back home. I finally found a stall that had a great selection of beautifully designed, Laos-themed items. Since I didn't speak a word of Lao and the vendor's English was limited, the classic Southeast Asian bargaining ritual began. We used a giant calculator, passing it back and forth, typing in numbers and shaking our heads until we finally reached a price we were both happy with. I secured my souvenirs, feeling a great sense of accomplishment.
Closing a Massive Chapter By the time we regrouped and headed back to the accommodation, my feet were throbbing, and my energy tank was completely empty. It had been an insanely long and emotionally diverse day.
We hauled our souvenir bags into our rooms, took some highly necessary, ice-cold showers to wash off the sweat from the golden monument, and quickly started preparing for bed. As I lay there looking at the ceiling, I couldn't help but smile. In a single day, we had embarrassed ourselves singing a national anthem, eaten like kings at the embassy, survived an oven-like monument, and successfully bargained at a foreign night market. It was an exhausting day, but absolutely one for the books. I closed my eyes, completely ready to rest before whatever adventure awaited us tomorrow.