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Jeffrey Tao's Travel Impressions
Sunset Over The Mekong Getting Ready It had been some two years since my last trip to South-east Asia and I was still looking back with much nostalgia at my last visit during which I combined an assignment to Bangkok with a week-long tour of Cambodia and Vietnam, centered on major destinations such as Phnom Penh, Angkor and Ho Chi Minh City. The romance and grandeur of the Khmer temples at Angkor had moved me deeply but the capital city Phnom Penh was something of a disappointment. It had at once a ramshackle and menacing atmosphere about it, and my traveling companion and I were ready to leave after staying just overnight. Ho Chi Minh City, however, was a heady mixture of stately colonial houses, French-style tree-lined avenues, ceaseless motor-cycle traffic, and a fast-paced, hard-edged commercial culture. It fascinated me. So when I was offered another opportunity to go to Bangkok, I took it, thinking I would return to Vietnam, to see Hanoi and possibly even the ethereal ancient capital of Hue. Much to my disappointment, the Vietnam-based travel agent who made our last visit so enjoyable could not be reached by fax, and I was at a loss as to what to do. Hanoi was becoming a hot business and tourist destination so hotel room rates were already running fairly high. I only had enough time for a two-day visit , so when I learned how much the additional return fare was going to be from Bangkok , and from the Vietnamese Embassy about the exorbitant visa fee, I balked. Eventually, I decided to postpone a Vietnamese trip until a future date, and booked a flight to Vientiane, Laos, only an hour’s flight from Bangkok, on the northern bank of the Mekong River. Arrival in Vientiane: VIP Treatment After a seemingly interminable flight from New York to Bangkok, and an overnight stay in Bangkok Airport’s Amari Hotel, I boarded a Thai Airways flight to Vientiane. There were already tell-tale signs that I was beginning to enter a different cultural environment. Several passengers were conversing in French, and for breakfast, the stewardess served delicious, piping-hot croissants, another French legacy. Upon arrival, I was met by staff from the Novotel Hotel, reputed to be the best in the capital. The driver not only took care of my luggage, but also shepherded me through passport control and customs. This kind of treatment reminded me of the days when my wife and I traveled in China in the 70's when it was first beginning to open up. My heart fell, however, when I arrived at the Novotel, actually a converted former girl’s school, and was told calmly and pleasantly by the manageress at the front desk, that the hotel had no electricity for the moment, and would I please wait half an hour before turning on the AC in my room. I had visions of tossing and turning that night, unable to sleep because of the sweltering heat. But I took this ominous piece of information in stride and was relieved to find that the air conditioning was fully restored soon afterwards in my room. Although the Novotel was probably the largest hotel in the capital, it was run in a warm, informal way, a little bit like a family business. The staff was always smiling and ready to help - when I was unable to reach Thai Airway’s local office to reconfirm my return flight to Bangkok, the Business Center downstairs gladly took care of it for me. The front desk would arrange for a car and driver to take me into the city center at my convenience and pick me up again at an appointed time and place. The table service at the restaurant was always attentive and friendly and one could tell that the staff had been rigorously trained by foreign management without losing their understated Asian charm. One got the feeling this country was starting to open up to visitors in a more concerted fashion, and that the Laotians were trying very hard, but not altogether sure whether they were measuring up to the high international standards tourists have come to expect and already maintained by some of their neighbors. It was a little bit like a young person preparing for his or her coming-of-age party. Unique Mixture I headed for downtown Vientiane which combines a number of disparate architectural elements - Chinese shop houses, usually stores or restaurants with completely open facades on the ground floor, French colonial buildings, such as the Revolutionary Museum, the Bibliotheque Nationale or the Presidential Mansion itself, or Laotian shrines and temples. The overall effect is quite pleasing, with the tree-lined avenues, the ubiquitous samlors and the relatively light traffic creating a calm and tranquil atmosphere, perhaps not unlike a small French provincial capital with an exotic South-east Asian touch.
Samlors and tree-lined avenues I spent part of the afternoon looking around the Revolutionary Museum, which featured photographs and memorabilia from the period of struggle for independence - there is a certain irony to the fact that it is housed in an elegant colonial house. I admired the shuttered windows, the majestic balustrades, and the stone urns in the garden filled with flowers in brilliant colors. The Bibliotheque Nationale, white with attractive shutters painted yellow, is another fine example of this kind of architecture, and is just next door to the museum. The national government and foreign architects have worked hard to preserve both colonial buildings and Lao temples and houses. And, as one walks around the center of Vientiane, there is an interesting mixture - little French restaurants with names like Le Provencal, where I lunched on succulent fresh squid au Provencale, white wine (which can be ordered in varying quantities in carafes of different sizes, just like in France) and gateau de crepes. The Specialite de la Maison was actually terrine, but at one o’clock in the afternoon in tropical heat, it seemed a little too rich and heavy a dish. French colonialism may have met its demise many years ago, but things French are still fairly accessible here - anything from wine bars and liquor stores well-stocked with a large selection of French vintages to a French favorite that has been absorbed by the Laotians - at street corners one can often see vendors selling slices of Lao pate with baguette and they do a roaring trade. To add to the cosmopolitan atmosphere, there is the Scandinavian Bakery just next door to Le Provencal, a watering hole for expatriates who come for breakfast or lunch and linger over their meals to chat or exchange gossip. I was surprised and amused to see a type-written note in English on the door of the bakery advertising the Santisouk Montessori School in Vientiane, making me think about my 5-year-old daughter Rachel who was attending a Montessori school on the Upper East Side in New York, some 5 minutes’ walk from my home. It’s a small world, is it not? Sunset over the Mekong The Mekong River, a major artery running through several countries in the region, is only minutes away from the center and adds a magical and romantic quality to the city. It was a memorable experience to sit by the Mekong, sipping beer at one of the many makeshift but pleasant refreshment stands, and watching the glorious sunset over the river.
Sunset over the Mekong A mellow and peaceful atmosphere settled over us as the waning silver rays of the sun played over the surface of the smooth expanse of water and the sky turned into a deep orange. On a lone slither of a boat floating in the middle of the river a fisherman was casting a net in a manner so leisurely that one felt this was a scene from time immemorial. Indeed the scene was pure Vientiane. Young couples sat at the small tables enjoying a spicy squid salad or a bowl of noodles, chatting quietly. Dogs belonging to the proprietor of the establishment wandered around lazily or would lie down now and again and gaze at the river. Young boys crouching on the embankment were still trying to catch a fish or a prawn, sitting by the riverbank with fishing poles in hand. When I finished my beer I beckoned to the proprietress, a woman in her 50's perhaps, and asked to pay for it. She quoted a sum in kip, the Laotian currency, which I did not have, since I had read about the serious inflation in the country that made the kip unacceptable at many hotels and restaurants frequented by visitors. Of course, this was not one of those places, so the lady looked uncomprehending as I tried to pay her in Thai baht, which, along with the U.S. dollar, were the preferred currencies here. Some English-speaking young people had helped to interpret for us in the meantime. Eventually, she agreed to take the Thai money, but only with great reluctance did she accept the small tip that I included in my payment. Sacred Shrines and Historic Monuments The fact that the Lao People’s Democratic Republic is a socialist country has not dampened the intense religious aura of its capital city. The city has many temples and shrines, some of great aesthetic and architectural interest. It has more than 40 temples, including the 19th-century Wat Impeng. Situated at the northern end of the city is the That Luang, or Grand Stupa, built by King Settahirath in 1566 and believed to contain a relic of Buddha. On either side of the stupa is a monastery of some size, in the traditional Lao style. Each monastery forms a complex of buildings of its own, with the monks’ quarters housed in separate smaller buildings. I in fact wandered into one of these monastery compounds, lovely with huge trees offering much-needed shade under the relentless blaze of the tropical sun, and was greeted with a friendly smile by what looked like a fairly senior monk in saffron robes. That Luang is Vientiane’s most sacred symbol and religious festivals are celebrated here by great throngs of worshipers. It is featured prominently in postcards that one buys in hotel stationary stores.
That Luang, or Grand Stupa A statue of Settahirath stands in front of the stupa, and the visitor gets a palpable sense of the King’s presence, as if his Royal personage were still standing guard over this symbol of this small but proud nation, like some lonely sentinel, forever responsible for the integrity and dignity of this much beleaguered land, ravaged by war until fairly recently. Not far from the That Luang, and
serving as a gateway to it, is a monument called Patusay,
The Patusay Traditional Attire On my way to view these two major monuments that day I was pleased to chance upon one or two street markets, selling fruits and vegetables and nuts. The shoppers and vendors were mainly women, and they wore, almost without exception, a blouse and the traditional sarong-like wrap-around skirt, of either silk or cotton, in fabulous colors, and usually with a richly-embroidered border at the bottom. As I made my way, I passed various foreign embassies and government ministries, as well as (not surprisingly), a French Cultural Center offering courses in French language. Staff from these offices would gather at the front gates, and the women were dressed in the same traditional way. In recent times, only in Vietnam have I seen traditional attire survive. In China, Japan or Korea, traditional clothes are worn only on ceremonial occasions such as weddings and birthdays. Of course, like in Thailand and Cambodia, the silk and cotton industries have had a long history and are firmly established here. In Vientiane, one can find very good buys in small shops even on Samsenthai Avenue, particularly during sales at Pimai (New Year) or sift through the large and confusing selection at the Morning Market, (a covered market with vendors selling fabric, made-up clothing, tribal jewelry and everything else) and try to bargain as hard as one can. At expensive boutiques and upscale hotel shops, one can pay quite considerable prices for high-quality Laotian silk and silk products. Lao Food My experience traveling in Cambodia had been that the Cambodians like their food milder than the Thais do, although Thai dishes themselves can vary widely in terms of their degree of spiciness, with certain regions in Thailand like the Issan (north-eastern) being famous for tongue-searing hot dishes. Lao food tends to be closer to Cambodian food, and I had the good fortune to sample some very appetizing and interesting food in Vientiane. One of my favorites was a mild, subtle seafood curry wrapped in a banana- leaf case. It contained squid, shrimp, fish and vegetables like chilies, asparagus and straw mushrooms - a most mouth-watering concoction, washed down with ice-cold local beer. Most of the hotels offer sumptuous Lao buffets that often include a wonderful array of dishes with combinations of ingredients that both delight the palate and broaden one’s gastronomic horizons considerably. At the Novotel buffets, I enjoyed delicious salads, seasoned with herbs whose names I did not even know, and also a dried fish and banana flower soup, exotic even by Asian standards, and a rich but tasty braised pork with pumpkin dish. I had an enjoyable dining experience at a restaurant on Samsenthai Avenue downtown in a beautiful renovated French house (that used to be the residence of a high government official) , but more because of the lovely physical surroundings than the food, which was elegantly presented, but tasted bland and uninteresting. Many of the hotels and major restaurants lay on a classical or folk song and dance performance which varies in quality and authenticity, with the hotels probably coming out ahead. Vientiane or Luang Prabang? One of the irritating hazards of international travel is the fact that those who have traveled to more places than oneself in a given country practices a kind of “one-upmanship.” After visiting Saigon, an acquaintance of mine who had spent no more than a day or two in Hanoi began to preach to me about the superiority of the northern capital over the southern metropolis - “How can you have stood the noise and traffic in Saigon? - you should have gone to Hanoi, which is much more charming and peaceful and interesting architecturally.” Before I went to Vientiane, a Bangkok-based colleague who happened to be in New York at the time asked me incredulously why I was bothering to go there, since there was nothing to do in Vientiane. Luang Prabang, the cultural, artistic and historic heart of Laos, was the place to visit, he went on to say. Obviously, if one had the time and wherewithal, the ideal thing would be to cover several destinations in a country, especially if they are quite different from each other. Sometimes, however, there are practical or logistical reasons why one visits certain places before others - Vientiane is well-served by fine, reliable international carriers such as Thai Airways, while Luang Prabang can be reached mainly by transiting through Vientiane and then taking the domestic carrier Lao Aviation. In any case, travel is ultimately an intensely personal experience. Whether we like a certain place or prefer one over another is a function of one’s individual make-up and the intricacies of one’s temperament and past experience. Before long, I probably will be visiting the Royal City of Luang Prabang, but will always treasure the evocative sights and smells of Vientiane, forever playing and replaying themselves in my mind’s eye - the lovely people, the intoxicating scent of tropical blossoms, the delicious cuisine, the resplendent silk fabric and that priceless sunset over the Mekong. Jeffrey Tao July 1999 |
built
in the late sixties to resemble the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. The difference is that the main motif here
is the Kinnary, a half-woman, half-bird creature, which can be seen in the form
of stone carvings at prominent locations on the monument and in ceramic form on
the vaulted ceiling. Another way in
which it differs from the original Arc that inspired it is the presence of
three pagoda-like structures at the top which are in turn capped by three
stupas. It is a slightly strange
mixture of European and Asian architectural elements and styles - a not
altogether felicitous one. For a small
fee one can climb to the top of the Patusay and get a bird’s eye view of the
city - the roads fanning out from the monument are laid out according to those
around the Arc in Paris, but there is nothing resembling the crazy traffic and
noise and pollution of the Parisian version.