Few tourists linger in Vientiane, heading for the rivers and mountains south and north. I am unusual in lurking here long enough to feel a ‘local’. I've become an honorary member of the tiny ex-pat group which gathers in the afternoon at the public swimming pool and am greeted with friendly smiles by the elderly couple who ‘man’ what passes for a front desk, a jumble of old costumes, flip-flops, baskets of water for sale, the ubiquitous ice cream freezer…
I have learnt to move with the rhythms of the heat wave (which is following me through Asia, Hanoi was uniquely hot whilst I was there and the temperature shot up 10 degrees in Laos the day before I arrived), taking advantage of the dawn cool; staying inside either in a café or the guest house from noon for a few hours and then taking advantage of my proximity to the pool to swim with the regulars until 5pm when it finally cools down, the shops and markets spring into life as do I.
I’ve learnt to see past the dust and dirt and appreciate the unique quality of a ‘city’ where the people continue to live gently, slowly and peacefully despite the capitalist ‘invasion’. My ex-pat friends tell me that whilst businesses, especially telecoms and motor manufacturers, are bringing jobs to the area, the predominately young staff are underpaid, working many years to achieve a career type wage.
The construction which goes on everywhere is, as I thought, never finished. As one project is abandoned, another is started on land next door. The traditional Laos town houses with their communal terraces and toilets are still more common than concrete buildings. The fishing villages strung out past the city line are marooned behind a towering barricade when a mountain of rubble was dumped between them and the water to form a new ‘road’…the road was never finished. I cycled along this wide dirt track this morning staring down into villages coated in dust, watching people struggle to climb up the steep banks and then down again towards their boats and nets.
The loss of shade from the trees which originally lined the riverbank has made the wide promenade –even the finished walkway along the city banks-impossible to use for much of the day. Such a shame. Thomas, an elderly Swiss gentleman who has lived here for 30 years, told me that whilst progress here is slow it is happening. There are benefits, he said, western goods are available here now, good restaurants and service, but the downside for him was mainly the pollution from the increasing traffic as a US type car is the dominant status symbol of the newly rich.
But despite this the people are so lovely here, like everywhere in Laos. Tonight I wandered through a temple with an enormous colourful marquee. It looked like a convention. Talking to a novice monk it turns out to be the beginning of a month long ‘wake’ for the senior monk who died a few days ago. Monks and worshippers gather every evening to pay their respects. A month! The older and more respected the person, the longer the wake...luckily it was only 3 days in Luang Prabang given the noise levels!!
As the sun set I sat on a park bench having an impromptu manicure and pedicure from the Vietnamese ladies who cycle around plying for business, my feet were scrubbed with such vigor I could barely walk…and my nails have never been so even. Pity about the eyebrow, but it is growing back, thank god! And my hair is sprouting like cress, it must be the sun.
Tomorrow is my last day in Laos. I’m thinking to cycle along the river at dawn in the clean air, admiring the lush greenery and posh villas on the Thai side opposite, gazing at the bright shining temples in the rising sunlight. Then I shall visit the markets for breakfast, treat myself to a massage, spend the last of my money-cash goes so far here it is not worth changing it, a cup of coffee in Lewes is a massage/fruit shake with loose change left over in Laos-and say my goodbyes
I have learnt to move with the rhythms of the heat wave (which is following me through Asia, Hanoi was uniquely hot whilst I was there and the temperature shot up 10 degrees in Laos the day before I arrived), taking advantage of the dawn cool; staying inside either in a café or the guest house from noon for a few hours and then taking advantage of my proximity to the pool to swim with the regulars until 5pm when it finally cools down, the shops and markets spring into life as do I.
I’ve learnt to see past the dust and dirt and appreciate the unique quality of a ‘city’ where the people continue to live gently, slowly and peacefully despite the capitalist ‘invasion’. My ex-pat friends tell me that whilst businesses, especially telecoms and motor manufacturers, are bringing jobs to the area, the predominately young staff are underpaid, working many years to achieve a career type wage.
The construction which goes on everywhere is, as I thought, never finished. As one project is abandoned, another is started on land next door. The traditional Laos town houses with their communal terraces and toilets are still more common than concrete buildings. The fishing villages strung out past the city line are marooned behind a towering barricade when a mountain of rubble was dumped between them and the water to form a new ‘road’…the road was never finished. I cycled along this wide dirt track this morning staring down into villages coated in dust, watching people struggle to climb up the steep banks and then down again towards their boats and nets.
The loss of shade from the trees which originally lined the riverbank has made the wide promenade –even the finished walkway along the city banks-impossible to use for much of the day. Such a shame. Thomas, an elderly Swiss gentleman who has lived here for 30 years, told me that whilst progress here is slow it is happening. There are benefits, he said, western goods are available here now, good restaurants and service, but the downside for him was mainly the pollution from the increasing traffic as a US type car is the dominant status symbol of the newly rich.
But despite this the people are so lovely here, like everywhere in Laos. Tonight I wandered through a temple with an enormous colourful marquee. It looked like a convention. Talking to a novice monk it turns out to be the beginning of a month long ‘wake’ for the senior monk who died a few days ago. Monks and worshippers gather every evening to pay their respects. A month! The older and more respected the person, the longer the wake...luckily it was only 3 days in Luang Prabang given the noise levels!!
As the sun set I sat on a park bench having an impromptu manicure and pedicure from the Vietnamese ladies who cycle around plying for business, my feet were scrubbed with such vigor I could barely walk…and my nails have never been so even. Pity about the eyebrow, but it is growing back, thank god! And my hair is sprouting like cress, it must be the sun.
Tomorrow is my last day in Laos. I’m thinking to cycle along the river at dawn in the clean air, admiring the lush greenery and posh villas on the Thai side opposite, gazing at the bright shining temples in the rising sunlight. Then I shall visit the markets for breakfast, treat myself to a massage, spend the last of my money-cash goes so far here it is not worth changing it, a cup of coffee in Lewes is a massage/fruit shake with loose change left over in Laos-and say my goodbyes
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