Boozing and Musing in Vientiane

After our dream date with the elephants we were back to Luang Prabang for one more night before our “bullet” train to Vientiane. The bullet train is a China-Laos enterprise where China basically runs a train through Laos. We had been interested in the high speed aspect after travelling so slowly on the boat to get to Luang Prabang, but it was slower than VIA. It was only bullet in the sense that it used to take 13 hours to make the drive and the train only takes 2 hours. At least half the time we were in tunnels since Laos is all mountains. 

The huge train station in Luang Prabang was interesting in a purely chaotic sort of way. First of all, it’s massive and they have to check your ID against your ticket and then you go through airplane style security being patted down and all. We were fine, but they were confiscating everyone’s pocket knives and aerosol dry shampoo and deodorant. If we were better groomed we would have been annoyed. Once you were through security it was a swirling sea of humanity. Lots of yelling tour leaders trying to gather their predominately Chinese tour groups. The line up for our train began an hour early with people brazenly butting right in and infuriating the westerners. It was a fantastic place to people watch. 

Where Luang Prabang is a relaxed chill small city, Vientiane is the sleepy big city of Laos. Lots of traffic and black plumes of leaded exhaust. Our hotel was down by the river in a walkable part of town. Again, the businesses are predominantly restaurants and hotels, even through the suburbs. There was an artist we learned about and took an extensive tour through multiple suburbs in our Kok Kok Move Sweety to find him, so I can attest. We did a search for 10 best things to do in Vientiane and it said “see the Patuxai arch, the big golden stupa, go to the night market, eat something.” They couldn’t even come up with 10 things. We did the recommended things and added one of our own - this place has super trendy cocktail bars that have their own specialties. K has learned that she is a bourbon-based cocktail gal and I made all kinds of new cocktail friends. There are few things more relaxing than sitting in a jasmine and champa scented garden, surrounded by bamboo and pretty lanterns, all warm and sipping on something tasty in mid-March. Laotians are friendly and the bar staff make us feel cared for and watched over. We are feeling a tremendous amount of gratitude for being able to be here.

We have also learned that we have to watch the SAQ for when the Picon order comes in. Picon is a French orange flavoured liqueur they add to beer here and it is a tasty combo. There are whole Facebook pages dedicated to alerting aficionados when it makes its rare sojourns to the SAQ.

Fancy boozing aside, we have been traveling around seeing the town. The ride hailing service here is called Kok Kok Move and it is as inefficient as anything else in a communist country. The GPS works poorly so they have to call you to ask where you are and our Lao is pretty much non-existent, so it doesn’t always pan out.  

We have phone and data plans but sometimes we can’t load anything even sitting spitting distance between cell towers. Lao Telecom is even less workable than Kok Kok Move.

You feel the Communism in Vientiane more than in the north. Nothing works particularly well or efficiently, which drives K to quiet fury. We had a good long chat with a local man yesterday and he was saying that it’s all about family and loyalty; ambition is frowned upon. You are meant to have a good calm life, not an extraordinary one. People do want to build businesses for their families but there is no impulse or encouragement to excel. In fact, it is discouraged. It feels strange to our western mindset. 

We have also noted that there are no Laotian celebrities beyond members of the armed forces. There is no homegrown movie industry or music industry. There are no ads of ridiculously gorgeous famous young people selling things. When we hear music playing, it is inevitably Ed Sheeran or Maroon 5. We used our phone apps to translate part of the newspaper and it is all “comrade so-and-so received a medal from the blah-blah consulate” and propaganda about how Laos did something better than someplace else. The posters inside the Patuxai Victory Arch compare it to the Arc de Triomphe in France. “Our arch has 4 entrances and has a fancy top, the one in France only has 2 entrances and no top. Nyah-nyah-nyah.” Mind you, they don’t mention that the one in France is massive compared to theirs. What I will say is that in India, this monument with hidden dark corners would smell like piss. In Laos it smells sweet like rice and pandan. 

Where the Thais and Vietnamese are all “we are fearsome and have repelled all our enemies,” Laotians are all “we put Nagas (big water serpents) under all our stupas to protect us, and then the f*ing Siamese stole all the gold off our stupas and made off with our Emerald Buddha!” Siam doesn’t come off well on their monument plaques. Laos was historically caught between Burma (now Myanmar) and Siam (now Thailand) until Siam won out, razed Vientiane to the ground and shipped off the population. No wonder there’s not much to see here of historical value. Much of what was rebuilt was done when Laos was a protectorate of France, but the architecture isn’t anywhere as colonial charming as in Luang Prabang. Of course, there’s been a lot of history since then and not much of it enriching Laos. In fact, during the second Indochina War, eastern Laos received “some of the heaviest bombing in the history of warfare.”

One of the things that give you some insight into the humble nature of the Lao people is the statue of King Setthathirath in front of the golden stupa. Normally you have a king or soldier on a horse, or at least standing in some striking pose. This king, responsible for holding off the Burmese and moving the capital to Vientiane from Luang Prabang, is sitting slightly slump shouldered on his throne. Laotians are very moved by this statue. 

One crazy thing I just learned is that geckos are called that because that is the sound they make. Now, probably I am the last person in the world to find that out, but it floored me. I’ve heard them plenty before but always thought they were a bird. They actually say “gecko gecko.” I can hear one right now, mocking me.