Je t’aime Vientiane!

It has happened. After all this time, I have finally fallen in love. It was unexpected, we’ve had a rocky history, and while I’ve tried to remain positive this day would come, I was afraid it never would…I’ve fallen in love with Vientiane. L’amour set in at approximately 6:17 pm Tuesday, June 15, 2010. I know people can’t usually pinpoint the time at which they fall in love so specifically, but it was easy in this case. Before we get to that though, we need to discuss what happened before 6:17 pm.

The morning routine complete by 8 am, I was working at my desk when I was told we had a meeting for the Rights-LINK interns at 9 am. While this notification would traditionally inspire panic and abject misery (meetings are typically not a good thing after all, bringing either a reprimand or more work), I was mildly excited this morning as I was ready to work on something besides reading introductory materials. As luck would have it, this meeting gave us a chance to speak with the supervisor for each project we will be working on over the summer and discuss particular jobs and tasks. I am now assigned to work with Na, who is in charge of promotion of the Rights-LINK Center to local NGOs, student bodies, general populace, etc. We’ll be working together two times a week and during the other times I will be working on synthesizing land rights case studies (first they need to be translated though), the guidebook, a specific legal question policy paper, and researching a few FAQs for the Rights-LINK website. Sound like a lot? It does to me too. We won’t be able to get through all the work they have for us in the next six weeks (particularly as they are having us leave tomorrow after work for the Salavan Province, so the rest of this week is gone), but we will try to put a substantial dent in it all, leaving them with a decent amount of work accomplished.

I worked the day away until lunch. Today I opted to eat lunch at the office, which has a wonderful program where a woman on the staff takes your order and money, buys your lunch from a group of restaurants nearby, and brings it back to the office. All the staff then eats their lunches together. We ended up feasting outside in the coffee center, which was a lot of fun. In addition, this way of procuring food is much cheaper than going out as the staff knows where to find the cheapest food close by. After lunch, it was back to the salt mines to finish our day of work. Although, it’s not truly a “salt mine” (which I have to imagine is a horrible place to work since the expression has negative connotations), the office in which I work is actually a very fun place to be. My bosses are busy getting paperwork and yearly forecasts/proposals ready for a major Swiss donor, which means people are in and out, loud conversations run rampant, and periodically they turn to me to question how to phrase something in English. Every once in a while we all take a break and talk together. This morning our conversations ranged from my discovery of a delicious Chiang Mai, Thailand candy in Laos (I ate it for the first time this morning and they thought it was hilarious that I had been in Chiang Mai for three weeks, but was just now eating them for the first time in Laos where they have technically been “imported” through the suitcase of one of their staff who just returned from Chiang Mai), the fact that Italian spaghetti recipes cooked by a Lao person are called “Laos Spaghetti” even though it is Italian food, and the US creates its own sports so that it can dominate in some sport over the world as it sucks at the true world sports (American football, basketball, or baseball anyone?). Our conversations only last for about five minutes, but they are filled with laughter, cultural revelations on both sides, and fun. It works to break up the day and gives me a breather from the heavy reading I have been doing.

There are a few more interesting things to note about Thai offices and the country/SE Asia in general.
1. There are no trash cans in this country and all of SE Asia! This is the land of take away food and endless wrappers (take away food you immediately eat is more true of Thailand than Laos), but for some reason there are no trash cans anywhere! If you happen to find a Western toilet you might find a trash can there, but otherwise you are simply out of luck. I’m not sure if it some great SE Asian joke on us falang (pronounced “faa-long,” by the way) since the locals never seem to be carrying around garbage, but I can’t find them anywhere. In our entire two story office I have managed to locate two non-bathroom garbage cans, one of which is located behind a desk and the other in a kitchenette area upstairs. I’m not sure where the trash cans are hiding, but I vow to find them before my time here is through.
2. Cleaning supplies are also scarce in this country. I’m not really sure why people hide the cleaning supplies from me. I have two main theories. 1) There is a great class divide in SE Asia and only the janitorial staff is supposed to clean and they all fear I will take over from them. 2) They want to see what we will do without cleaning supplies and think it is funny to hide them from me. Hmm…
3. No towels. This is a country/region without towels. I’m talking hand towels, paper towels, dish drying towels. All of them. Gone. Nowhere to be found. I have searched high and low and cannot produce a single towel for my efforts that could be used in any capacity. Are these being hidden too?!
4. The women at the office often wear traditional Lao skirts to work and most women in town wear traditional Lao skirts too. The Lao skirt is a thing of beauty. It is somehow tied at the waist (I’m not sure how yet) and falls to mid-calf. The entire thing is made out of a piece of silk with a design running horizontally at the bottom and either a plain skirt or small random flowers/prints on the body of the skirt. There really isn’t a way to adequately describe these incredible skirts. They are simply beautiful; always elegant and appropriate. I plan to buy one, although I’m sure it won’t have the same effect on me. :)

After work, we dropped our office things off at home, changed clothes, and set off for downtown Vientiane. While chatting earlier in the morning with my mom, I had gotten the idea in my head that I needed a fruit smoothie. Zenia instantly agreed that this was an absolute necessity and we headed off with Saem in search of a smoothie shop Zenia’s Lonely Planet guidebook recommended. A leisurely ride led us to Fruit Heaven and at 6:17 pm I ordered my smoothie. Before we get to l’amour, however, I must just say that the smoothies in this country are vastly superior to any others. Here, nothing interferes with the fruity goodness the way it does in the states. When you walk into a Jamba Juice in the US, you peruse a board of options that are the same all over the country and during all times of the year, never dependent on local or seasonal fruit. As the team behind the counter moves to assemble your drink, you can see various odds and ends dumped into the blender, some identifiable and others not. Ice enters first, then a strange powder, frozen fruit, unidentifiable liquids, a glob of something semi-frozen and with the push of a button it is melded together into a think gooey mass. This description is not meant to turn anyone away from Jamba Juice; I myself am a fan of the institution. But here, a smoothie is a completely different experience.

We walked up to Fruit Heaven, a small hole-in-the-wall establishment with a fruit stand in front (behind which stood a small counter space with two blenders) and a long list of smoothies, hand-written, in front. A traditional greeting of Sabai dee was given upon our approach and then we had to decide: a single fruit smoothie (dragon fruit, star fruit, mangostein, pineapple, mango, coconut, lemon – which is actually lime, but these people are convinced limes are lemons - etc.) or multi-fruit smoothie (mango-apple, pineapple-apple, carrot, mango, coconut, mangostein-lemon, mango-lemon, etc.)? Once our decision was made, the process began. The man behind the counter selected our fruit of choice from the stand, discarding all those deemed not fresh, until a suitable array was available. Pineapples were cut, mangos sliced, carrots shredded, etc. Once the fruit was prepared, it entered the blender with a bit of ice, some water, and a dash of sugar. The ingredients added, the button was pushed, and with a loud *whir* our smoothies were off. In only three minutes time a large glass with a slightly bent straw was presented for my enjoyment. The freshness is indescribable and the pleasure of the pureness of the fruit after a warm bike ride was nirvana. No place has been as truly named as Fruit Heaven.

We sat outside the shop, quietly sipping our fruit, lost in awe of the perfection of the moment for almost ten minutes. Content to let the fruit soothe us, I realized in that moment I was in love. It was a perfect moment. I finished my pineapple-apple smoothie with a touch of sadness that such gloriousness was gone, but pure happiness at the thought that I had just enjoyed it. I looked around the city with new eyes, able to appreciate everything like new. We began to meander down the roads nearby and discovered a pivotal fact about Vientiane: this city is deceptive. Look on any map of Vientiane and you will see what appears to be six main roads (once again, “main” by Vientiane standards). The rest of the roads and streets appear to be nothing more than alleyways and, in fact, that is exactly what they are. But just as Vientiane has not yet fully developed itself for tourists and has hidden many of its main “tourist sites” from prying eyes (example, hiding the Wats behind large walls and planted vegetation), the true glories of Vientiane are hidden on these small roads and alleys. To truly experience the goodness and richness of Vientiane, you must travel off the main paths. Don’t stick with the traditional roads, turn down a side-street and then another. There is no way to get lost in this town and there are a thousand little gems waiting to be discovered. As we walked around the streets surrounding Fruit Heaven we found a roadway of bakeries, bookstores, the most famous artisan silk factory in Vientiane, and dozens of amazing looking restaurants.

It was quite late at night by this point, so we headed into a bookstore, Monument Books, which had also been recommended by Lonely Planet. I found many treasures inside, including a Laos cuisine cookbook (something that is VERY hard to find), a Thai cookbook with a pad see ew recipe, and an amazing pamphlet on how to find and eat true Laos cuisine in Laos. It’s amazing, but here in Laos, local people are convinced the falang do not like and cannot eat true Laos food. When you request a recommendation for a local restaurant, they will immediately suggest a falang restaurant or will suggest a falang meal. It is quite odd. To get real Laos food (local fare) you must insist you want Laos food and then insist that it be truly Laos (add the spice please!). If you can actually get real Laos food, it is all worth the effort as their cuisine is divine! I have described it before and am continuing to experience delicious dishes all the time. My adoration has not abated (despite a brief sojourn during my illness when no food sounded good).

We left the bookstore, wandered around a bit more, and then headed back to Fruit Heaven where we ordered sandwiches off their menus. If I hadn’t fallen in love with the smoothies earlier, this would have captured my heart. An amazing freshly grilled chicken sandwich with watercress, cucumber, lettuce, tomato, dill, green onion, cilantro, etc., all piled high on a fresh baguette. It was incredible, a perfect meld of flavors and textures, a symphony for the mouth. I ate with gusto and was still unable to finish it all. Replete after this divine meal, we slowly biked our way home, going slowly enough to enjoy the city at night and for me to send my newly discovered love out to Vientiane.