The young Australian—tall, dark, beautiful—wore hot pants. Her friend—tall, blonde, beautiful—wore shorts. So dressed, the two explored the Buddhist capital of Laos. They rode bicycles, they meandered in and out of ancient temples, and they caused jaws to drop all across this conservative town. I've seen it here in Luang Prabang, and I've seen it across Southeast Asia: female tourists barely clad, insulting the local religion (whose edicts clearly forbid entering a temple with bare shoulders or legs). Men do it, too, and it's not just with attire. As more and more tourists frequent the region's traditional backroads, cultural faux pas are committed left and right. Tourists, with their clicking cameras, disrupt the daily ritual of alms-giving, towering over monks (one should squat or kneel in a monk's presence) and offering gifts with the left hand (which should be reserved for dirty tasks). I cringe to hear middle-aged Europeans snapping at waiters and sneering at food deemed too spicy or unclean. I bristle when foreigners shout in the faces of locals over hotel reservations and restaurant bills. My husband and I both tire of overheard conversations borne of ignorance: "What country are we in?" (I've heard that one a couple of times). "What's the big river over there?" (That would be the Mekong). "Isn't this a Communist country." (Yes, it is). A note: Americans do seem to be better mannered than many other foreign tourists.
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