Pastries in the (Really, Really) Poor Man's Paris

17 August

An so on to the crumbling French Colonial capital of Laos, Vientiene. Pronounced Wiang Je, apparently, but Vientiene looks prettier and I'm going with that. Something Bucharest-ish about this city, with it's bird's nests of wires draped across streets, and bits of plaster gone missing here and there. It's very low, hardly any buildings over three or four stories, but loads of old white villas tucked behind walls amid deep green gardens. Not difficult to imagine European men in linen suits and women in white cotton playing croquet while the locals bring the pastis around. Vientiene is strung along the Mekong, with the by-now requisite riverside cafes and gold Beer Lao signs.

Strangely, Vientiene has proved to be the most civilized city we've been to (in some senses) since before Turkey. The ex-pat community is big and noticeable—lots of foreign aid agencies, French, US, Australian. Laos relies heavily on foreign aid for most of it's economy. Useful Hint for Surviving Global Economic Meltdowns: be a pre-industrial nation that doesn't export anything at all. No economy, no disaster. Sweet.

The combined influence of French colonialism and modern ex-patriots equals one crucial thing for deprived westerners: decent food. Really good French baguettes, more than one kind of cheese, coffee places nicer than Starbucks (I can wholeheartedly recommend the cinnamon buns at JoMa Cafe. Both branches.) Though taco salad for lunch probably shouldn't really be a highlight of any country, and I trust that perspective will grant me the ability to focus on other bits of Vientiene...for now, staying with the taco salad.

And if you're ever in Vientiene and need a full range of Old El Paso products, or Sucrets, or Betty Crocker cake mix, or Aunt Jemima maple syrup, then I suggest the Phimphone Grocery Store on Setthathirat Avenue. Aunt Jemima is quite the backpacker, you know—the old girl gets around.





Amid the debatable cultural attractions of Vientiene—a street meant to evoke the Champs Elysees (maybe, if you squint. And have cataracts.), a triumphal arch built with concrete supposedly donated by the US to build an airport (affectionately called the Vertical Runway) and intended to evoke the Arc de Triomphe, and a really very beautiful temple called Wat Sisaket—we in fact spent one of our two whole days here in the local waterpark, Nonghchang. It's only a year old, and has loads of modern waterslides and a lazy river and three pools...of which two slides and the pool were open. But on a boiling day in Laos, it was enough. And it only cost $3 to get in. And JoMa bakery (provider of cinnamon buns to desperate white people) has a branch in the park.

At the aforementioned Wat, Si Saket, met a monk who was way more interested in chatting up the ladies than chatting up the Buddha. The Wat is the oldest in Vientiene, having not been destroyed by the Siamese when they invaded in the 19th century. Most Lao wats are circus colours, bright red and green and white—this one was all mellow ochre, the walls lined with thousands of niches, each with a pair of miniature buddhas sat in it, and long rows of bigger statues seated peacefully below. There's even a sort of storage room for broken buddhas tucked away in the middle. Really lovely.