Social Butterflies

I can’t say our life here in Vientiane is exactly a social whirl of Hiltonian proportions, but it seems that we get out a bit more than we do back in the states. Perhaps it’s because neither one of us currently has an automobile! I think the "drive-everywhere" lifestyle we adopt in the U.S. actually depresses the frequency and quality of our social interactions there.

Aside from the fact that Jen and I both had cars that we drove in opposite directions every day, (racking up an average of a thousand miles a month each), we tended not go out much at night due to our avoidance of drinking and driving, and our paranoia about the sheer numbers of drunk drivers on the roads of our home state. Here in sleepy, friendly Vientiane, however, we have begun tapping into a modest and mellow social scene that finds us out and about (in tuk-tuks, mostly), mixing with locals and expats, in pursuit of a lovely time.

This past month was “birthday month” for Jen and me. My birthday comes first, and we decided to try the top rated French restaurant in town, Le Silapa. Foolishly, we showed up without reservations at a restaurant with four tables. Drats. We moved on to La Terrasse, which was good, but nothing special by Vientiane standards. On Jen’s birthday, we headed to our favorite dining spot, Mak Phet, but not before stopping at Sticky’s for a creampuff, a candle, and a heartfelt “Happy Birthday” to Jen from the bar crew.

Last night we went to a place called the Juke Box for a performance by a local band called Groove Factory. The brainchild of an expat (and Sticky’s denizen) named Pierre and his mates, the group is, believe it or not, a ten-piece funk/soul band that has a full horn section and plays a ton of James Brown, AWB, etc. Mind-bendingly, we were out in the jungle in an open air hut with a cement dance-floor grooving on a soul revue doing their best impersonation of Fred Wesley and the JBs. In Laos! Very nice.

Back in the daytime, the That Luang Festival, Laos’ biggest annual celebration (surpassing even October’s Mekong boat races, which was a great big party) , is going on right now, culminating tomorrow. Happily, but crowdedly, this festival takes place in our very own neighborhood and has been percolating for a couple of weeks already. Hope to be back with photos soon!

Trivial Minds

Did we mention that there is a government imposed curfew on Vientiane? Probably not, because we aren’t really night owls under usual circumstances, and having to be out of the bars and home by 11:00 is not exactly a hardship for us. The government has recently begun a crackdown on wayward taverns and dodgy noodle-houses, closing several in the run-up to the Southeast Asia Games (SEAGames), to be held in Laos for the first time in early December. Although we go out for dinner every night, we are rarely out as late as 10 PM. (Yeah, yeah, hand me my cane, sonny…whatever!)

Anyway, we usually drop into this downtown bar for a couple of beers once or twice a week before having dinner at a nearby restaurant. Sticky’s is an Aussie-run joint, and we’ve gotten pretty friendly with the Lao lads that work there. On Saturday night, we were starving, but decided to go to Sticky’s for a beer first. It seemed crowded and the owners were running around the place feverishly. It turned out to be “Quiz Night”, held every six weeks or so, and the local trivia teams were filing up the staircase to prepare for this traditional battle of wits. To make a long story short, Jen, knowing my proclivities in this area and ignoring my intense hunger, talked me into forming an ad hoc team with the Australian couple next to us at the bar. It happened that the bloke, Yogi, is a colleague of Jen’s from her work. He and his wife, Amanda, were long-time also-rans in the trivia competition, but doggedly kept after it for the love of the game (or the drinks).

We were unknowns, dark horses from the outset. The rules were simple: eight rounds of questions covering categories determined by the bar owner…and may the best team win! First, we had to choose a team name and settled on “Grey Matter”. Simple but classy. As we were drinking our first beer and limbering up our brain muscles, my world suddenly became a blur. The leg of my plastic chair had given way, hurling me to the floor (along with a beer or two). I got up, shook it off and ordered replacement drinks. Let the games begin! Suddenly, Yogi’s chair also collapsed in a veritable tsunami of suds. Blazes! Jen was soaked in beer…but more importantly, why were none of the other competitor’s chairs giving way? We knew what we were facing.

The first category was “Sport”. I instinctively knew I was going to suck at this one because my sports trivia knowledge, although extensive, doesn’t really extend to soccer, cricket, and rugby. One look at me mate, Yogi, however, put my mind at ease. Sure enough, Jen and I knew almost none of the answers, but our Aussie friends acquitted themselves well, guessing six out of eight. The competition continued through the categories: inventors, food, music, history, literature – we seemed to get stronger as the questioning went on. Jen nailed one: the title of Roald Dahl’s autobiography. Amanda pitched in: it was Anne Boleyn bore Henry VIII a child, I’m sure of it. Yogi insisted that mozzarella was made out of buffalo milk. Score! I did my thing. The longest charting Beatles single ever? Hey Jude, of course.

By the time the final category, “Cinema”, came around, the dark horse team was pulling away down the stretch. “Oliver Stone!” “Gary Oldman!” “Ginger Rogers!” We ran the table. Another team composed of Jen’s workmates (it’s a small town) had been accustomed to winning easily. They seemed to be in shock. When the final figures were tallied, “Grey Matter” was indeed victorious. Yogi and Amanda received a bunch of free minutes for their mobile phones, and Jen and I got 400,000 kip (almost fifty bucks) worth of gift certificates to Sticky’s. Awesome!

As we rode the afterglow of victory down the stairs and into the sultry nighttime streets of Vientiane, we realized: Holy shit! It’s after 11!

Shiny, Happy People . . .

OK, so we are all shiny here due to the heat and humidity . . . but the Lao seem to be especially good at seeing the bright side of everything, even calling me “Madame” (you know with a French pronunciation ma-DAM) when I’m soaked in sweat – it is charming! Which is how we find the people. They are not overly effusive or artificial, but genuine, friendly, and respectful. Not a day goes by in which something “cute” doesn’t happen.

When we first arrived, we noticed that from the tiniest baby to the oldest man, people have character. They seem full of personality when you least expect it. Let’s take a walk around the neighborhood and you’ll see what I mean.

First of all there is a lady that looks nearly a 100 that ever-so-slowly trudges up and down our alley with her walker. She is quite determined to “get out of the house” occasionally, I guess. About once a week she makes her pilgrimage up the alley to the street and back to her house. I worry about how dangerous it is as cars zip from the main street into the alley. I guess she is just an adventurer as I later saw her and her walker enduring a bumpy tuk tuk ride! When we first saw her, we said “Sabaidee”, and she stopped, studied us for a moment, and gave us a big grin.

Near the corner of our alley and the main street sits a type of shoe-repair man under an umbrella. He doesn’t have a stand per se, but a little table with a hodge-podge of old shoes that he enjoys sewing on with a big needle. He happens to have a tuk-tuk parked near his shoe table. Whenever we need a ride into town, he greets us with a warm smile and a “Sabaidee” as he quickly covers his table and shoes with a large sheet of plastic putting stones down to keep it from blowing away. He jumps into the vehicle and is ready to take us where we need to go. It never occurs to him that someone might disturb his stash of footwear. I guess people are honest here.

Just across from the shoe guy is an older gentleman who is some kind of “gate guard” in front of a big house. When we first started passing the house, we would see him sitting in a little chair under a tree, reading out loud from a little book. Literacy is very low in Laos. From what I’ve been told, even educated people don’t read much, so we found this scenario curious. One day the man noticed us passing and said in very clear English, “Where are you from?” We proceeded to have a nice conversation with him – most people speak a little English as it is the common language among Asian countries, however going beyond basic phrases to conversation is rare. This guy even mentioned politics! He said to Joe, I like that “Balack Obama – He’s a handsome guy, he’s young, he’s clean cut . . . he look like you!” And I think he really meant it.

Then the other day, as I was taking a walk, I saw two little school-boys in uniform. As I passed, they did a bit of a rubber-neck (just as bit . . . as this is the capital city and people are pretty used to seeing foreigners). I gave a smile and said (one of my familiar but useful words in Lao) “Sabaidee”. They called back to me, “Bai sai”? My mind started whirling . . . oh I knew I had heard that on my language tape . . . . oh oh . . . . what did it mean again? Oh yes! “Where are you going?” Then, again whirling, my mind searched for the answer in the archives of my brain. There it was! I said “Bai lin” (going out for fun). They looked at me, and as I was expecting laughter in reaction to my undoubtedly bad pronunciation and slow reaction time one blew me a kiss!

The people are not only polite and gregarious, but they are very calm. You never hear people raising their voices or arguing. Maybe “muan” makes people this way – it’s the concept of “fun” or “enjoyment” that is paramount in Lao culture. If your life situation is not “muan”, you must try to get out of it. Also, Buddhism has a strong influence. Daily you can see women crouched in the streets in the early morning; they wait to give offerings of food and money to the procession of monks that passes by. The monks may stop at a particular house or group of women and produce a haunting yet musical chant – a prayer? The festivals seem to draw people from miles around to enjoy themselves in a large, crowded, sweaty, yet peaceful gathering. Last Sunday, we went down to the riverside for “Boun Ok Phansa”. Thousands of people send off little boats made of banana stems and flowers. This ritual signifies the end of the rainy season and represents sending “bad luck” away. I bought my little boat for about 50 cents, lit the candle, and sent it along the river . . . although its flame blew out, it caught a good current and sped swiftly down the river . . .

That's What "Friends" Is For

Laos’ premier “adventure tourism” destination is undoubtedly Vang Vieng, a small town in Vientiane Province around 160 km (90 miles) from our home in the capital city. Located on the Nam Song River, a tributary of the Mekong, it is famous for its beautifully rugged limestone mountains, rock-climbing and fabulous caves, in addition to the many water-based activities on tap, like kayaking and, especially, floating the Nam Song on inflated inner tubes. It is this latter activity that has placed Vang Vieng squarely on the SE Asia backpacker circuit. An entire industry has been created providing “tubing” enthusiasts with everything they could possibly need after a hard day of floating/drinking in the hot sun– specifically, plenty of loud music, cheap booze/drugs, and grubby guesthouses in which to sleep it off. Jen & I just had to go see for ourselves!

Of course, we were mostly interested in getting out of town (our first trip to the countryside) and seeing some beautiful Lao scenery. Given the near-incessant heat in these parts, floating down a beautiful river sounded not half-bad, but the reputation of the whole tubing scene was off-putting enough that I just didn’t want to “go there”- at least not on our first trip. After a four hour bus ride through some beautiful country, we arrived in Vang Vieng just after dark. We snagged a nice hotel room by the river ($18) then headed into town.

At this point, I have to mention that the other thing Vang Vieng is famous for is the sheer number of cheap restaurants/ bars that play reruns of “Friends” around the clock. Although this phenomenon is debated with great frequency on traveler’s discussion boards, I refused to believe that it was as widespread as people claimed. Well…it’s true! There are probably a hundred indistinguishable dives lining the streets of town, and fully half were blasting “Friends” episodes, often to rooms devoid of patrons. We finally went past a place where a half dozen young people lolled motionlessly on platforms, staring blankly at a blaring television screen. What the hell were they on that would induce such a catatonic response? I just didn’t get it.

Anyway, we woke up early the next day and discovered our balcony had a staggering view of the craggy mountains across the river. We embarked on a long walk across a toll bridge, through an electric-green rice paddy, to the base of the nearest mountain (I hope the photos we took do some justice to the stunning beauty of the place). We resolved to take the same road to a more distant (7 km) cave/pool later in the day.

We set out after breakfast and hitched a ride in a tuk- tuk with some Canadian teens who were headed the same way. When I spoke incredulously about the stoned-out people lounging in front of “Friends”, they sheepishly admitted their own participation. “Everybody’s just so hung-over!” they explained. Hmmm. David Schwimmer’s adenoidal whine is no kind of hangover remedy, kids. Anyway, we got to the spot and sure enough there was a big swimming hole with the requisite ropes and big tree for jumping in. Jen and I climbed up the mountain to the entrance to the cave, but declined the miner’s headlamp or the guide. I guess we prefer our caves a little more spacious. The pool was, however, icy cold and we took a refreshing dip.

The following day was the Boun Ok Phansa festival (featuring longboat races) that comes at the end of the rainy season. After taking another early morning exploratory hike searching for a promised swimming hole (no luck), we watched a bit of the boat race preparation before jumping on a bus and heading home to Vientiane.

Without doubt, Vang Vieng is stunningly beautiful. The backpacker scene, however, is “not my bag, man”, as Austin Powers might say. It is geared toward young partiers from around the world who come to get wasted amidst beautiful scenery, scenery I’m not sure they appreciate fully (there were incapacitated “Friends” victims on display all day and night). Perhaps an explanation can be found on the “special menu” offered at many backpacker haunts (see photo). Notice the last item: “O[pium] tea” for a measly twelve dollars!