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Vientiane has a certain
appeal, in
a basket case sort of way. It is a small city, and it is not crowded.
The
biggest danger is the state of the sidewalks: whole concrete blocks are
missing and one could just vanish from the face of the earth into the
abyss. |
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A pharmacy and acupuncturist
shop. |
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The central market in
Vientiane seemed
quiet to me, but it was early in the day. I regret that I didn't buy
some
old French Indochinoise coins. |
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Anyone needs a shrink-wrapped
TV with
a remote? |
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The Museum of Lao Revolution
sure doesn't
paint a pretty picture of French and US intervention in the country. I
visited it during a thunderstorm. The lights were flickering and I
privately
apologized for any miseries my countrymen have inflicted upon Laos.
When
I came out, the sun was shining, and the kind people were as welcoming
as always. |
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Actually, I only received
messages
of affection for France and the US from my various encounters. But
their
eyes rolled dismissively at the memory of a more recent occupant: here
is the abandoned Soviet center. |
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Rush hour, Vientiane style. |
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Vientiane is another city
that goes
to bed early. That is one of the most endearing facets of Laos. Next
door
to lascivious Thailand, Laos is truly wholesome. There is little crime.
The very visible teenagers are courteous. I saw no beggars. That
doesn't
mean everything is rosy. In the countryside, whole villages are
relocated
by the government, an unjustifiable effort which results in much
resentment. |
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I may have entered Laos on a
leaky
boat, but I exited through the front door: the Friendship Bridge which
crosses the Mekong and ends back in Thailand. |
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A mere 43 hours after
crossing the
bridge, I was back home. |
