106 Party's over
Sunday 31 October 2004

Today the whole town is almost dead. Very few places are open early to serve breakfast and the stalls are gone from the sidestreets.

105 Bun Nam Festival
Saturday 30 October 2004

Ever since I arrived in Vientiane carnival stalls have been increasing daily along Thanon Fa Ngum and the Mekong River bank. Apparently there are two festivals that coincide, Awk Phansaa and Bun Nam. Awk Phansaa is the end of the monks three month rains retreat and Bun Nam is the water festival.

Often at night or through the day I would take a walk to see what was going on. Each time there would be a few more stalls and gradually the number of people kept increasing.

Last week all the side streets between Thanon Setthathirat and Thanon Fa Ngum were closed off and being used for parking. At night footpaths on Thanon Setthathirat were roped off and turned into parking lots for motorcycles.

Today there are boat races on the river. The boats are long (maybe 20 metres) and narrow with a crew of 52. They race two at a time down the river. The river banks are packed with people. Between races the crowd (at least those close to the river) is entertained by percussion and chanting groups on barges.

It is incredibly crowded in Thanon Fa Ngum and all the side streets. Stalls line much of the side streets as well as Fa Ngum. I looked from my balcony this morning (yes, I have a balcony) and saw that the side streets were not only guarded by police, one had a rifle slung over his shoulder, but also high school students in uniform. As I discovered when I headed towards the water, their job was to frisk everyone who came through. I thought I might be frisked by one of the girls but no such luck. The boy who checked me was perhaps too shy to do his job thoroughly. I had my camera in a bag in my back pack. He felt a bulky article with a little weight. It could have been anything but he said nothing.

By time I came back out again it seemed that the festival had spread into Thanon Setthathirat as well. In fact there were crowds everywhere. The whole town was in festival mode. Tonight there are many parties or people are simply burning candles outside their homes.

104 Making plans—again
Friday 29 October 2004

If you are travelling to strange places the Lonely Planet Thorntree webpages can give you useful information from other travellers. However I find its use is limited for me because those people are not necessarily the same sort of traveller that I am.

Backpackers come to Melaka and stay for one or two nights. I stayed for almost six months. Most visitors to Laos come on a two week visa and try to see the whole country in that time.

So when I read over and over: you can see Vientiane in two days, well I take that with a grain of salt. Vientiane is a city of about 600,000 people. I guess so far I've met, sometimes only briefly, a few hundred of them. Still quite a few to go.

Sometimes I like to spend time alone, just poking around, finding what is interesting to me. I also like to spend time doing something that gives me the chance to interact with people. Hence my visits to the National Library and my desire to renew my association with PADETC. But this has not born fruit. The email I sent bounced. On a return visit to their website I found there was little still online beside the basic home page. The site is obviously not being maintained.

So what do I do? I came without plans on a 15 day visa. I could extend it and go somewhere else. Luang Prabang sounds interesting. I decided however to apply for my Thai visa and return to Mahasarakham.

There I go making plans once again. I had it figured: apply for visa Friday; collect visa Monday; travel Tuesday. Take it easy. No rush. Last night I asked Spy a few questions about the visa and he informed me that Friday (today) is a holiday. The embassy is closed. So for now I'll take it as it comes and see what the weekend brings.

103 Losing and gaining customers
Thursday 28 October 2004

It has been rather convenient for me to get my breakfast each morning from a cafe right next door to the guesthouse. But yesterday the tomato in my omelette was past its use-by date and the omelette was runny—how to lose a regular customer in two easy steps.

This morning I went across the road to the one that hired the bicycle to me. I had not tried it so far because the blackboard menu was entirely in Lao. It appears to be run by a young couple with a baby and a doberman. I notice a few farang there most nights and figured it was worth a try.

There was only one other customer this morning, another farang—a young man who has made his skin available for a second-rate artist to use as a canvas. I sat so that I could watch the passing parade in the street rather than the second-rate art.

Perhaps the proprietors did not realise that I was looking for a new regular breakfast spot and that they were on trial. The husband went off on his motorcycle just as I got there. I sat for about five minutes before the wife approached sheepishly with the menu. Losing points, I thought.

The menu was in Lao and English (gain a few points). It was quite extensive but didn't have much you might call breakfast food. While I was reading it the doberman was prancing around out the front and then came and lay on my feet—a few more points down.

I decided to order a pad thai—a heavier breakfast than I usually eat but the most suitable item on the menu for my taste. But I couldn't order. The woman was not coming near me and losing points fast.

Eventually the husband returned. She called to him as he walked in and he came straight to me and took my order. 'Pad thai gai, mai sai too-ah'. I guessed that the Thai was close to the Lao.

He immediately repeated to her 'Pad that gai, mai sai too-ah'.. And I think I figured out why so many people here stay away from potential customers—they are shy about their inability in speaking English.

I eat a lot of pad thai. In a region where so much food is precooked, it is one dish that is usually cooked on the spot. No two places make pad thai quite the same and, well this was one of the best. All points redeemed and I'll be back again tomorrow.

102 Renting a bicycle
Wednesday 27 October 2004

I've seen about as much of Veintiane as I can easily on foot in this heat. Yesterday I decided to rent a bicycle and go a bit further afield.

Spy sent me to one of the cafes across the road. 'No have' she says. I wasn't early enough. She sent me to Sabaidee Guesthouse around the corner but the only bike they had left didn't have a lock. They obviously didn't want me to take it without one. The next guesthouse had several bikes. None had locks and they didn't care. But I did.

On the next corner was a cafe. Outside on the footpath were five good bicycles with locks, as well as two motorcycles. I tried to eyeball various staffmembers. They could see me but no one would so much as acknowledge me. Why? No one would bother to come out. I wanted to rent a bike. They obviously didn't want to rent it to me. After five minutes I walked away. Every time I pass this corner there are always five bicycles and two motorcycles. They must treat all their customers in the same way.

When I go into the morning market it is not like this. I walk through the clothing stalls. The stalls are packed with stock high and low. The vendors watch me, holding a stick with a hook. If they think my eyes have stopped for half a second on a particular garment, the hook grabs the hanger and in no time the garment is spread in front of me. 'You want shirt sir? Long sleeve? Short sleeve? You like this colour sir? We have many colours sir. Right size for you sir.' They don't miss a chance. In this so-called communist state, many people know how capitalism works. Unfortunately not everyone.

I gave up on renting a bike yesterday and decided to have a rest day.

Today I start out early and head to the cafe across the road.

'Do you have a bicycle?' I ask.

'One bike. One dollar. One day.'

'OK.' I say and choose my bike.

'Bring back...' and she holds up five fingers. She's not sure if I understand so she leads me to the clock and points to the five.

'Ha mong' I say, trying to remember the Thai and hoping it's the same in Lao.

She nods. I give her 10,000 kip (one US dollar) and take the bike. That's it. No deposit. No ID. No address. Nothing. Just trust. The bike is mine until ha mong.

I head towards the Mekong and follow Thanon Fa Ngum out of town. It's not long before the bitumen ends and trees cover the road. It's much quieter and cooler.

There are one or two guesthouses along here. I should be jotting down names. If I ever return to Vientiane, this is where I'd rather be. It's not too far to walk into town.

When we came here last year, we visited an organisation named PADETC. I have two goals with this bicycle. The first is to drop into PADETC and just say 'hi.' Let them know I'm back in town. They are somewhere in this direction. I am not sure where and I do not manage to find them.

My second goal is simply to explore the back-blocks of Vientiane—see a bit of day to day life. In that I am successful. I explore another market, less prosperous than the ones in town. I visit a couple of wats and take photos of the nagas for the amusement of my grandsons and I circumnavigate Phu That Luang the Great Sacred Stupa, reputed to contain one hair of the Buddha.

By 4.30 I am exhausted and return the bike to the cafe.

101 Being Dead
Tuesday 26 October 2004

Sometime before I left Oz I heard an interview on ABC radio with Jim Crace. Not sure now who the interviewer was, probably Philip Adams.

Crace is a writer who had been brought to Australia for one of our literary festivals. He is know for his inventiveness. Much of what appears in his novels that readers may take for real is purely Crace's creation. For example: a book commences with a quote from an ancient writer you've never heard of. Do you doubt that this wise writer existed? Or do you simply accept this as a gap in your knowledge? If the book was written by Crace it is a reasonable assumption that the wise writer never existed.

I liked the man as presented in the interview and looked up his website. It included his first short story which he claimed not to think too highly of now. A hitchhiker is picked up by a car that is full of hitchhikers. No one knows who owns the car. The driver leaves the car on reaching his destination. The car continues its journey around the country as hitchhikers progressively take control and then move on.

Vientiane has presented me with both the time and the book to get to know the writing of Jim Crace better. 'Being Dead', published 1999, is a thorough, existentialist exploration of death through the murder of two fictional academics. The language is both graphic and lyric. The images of violence can be raw.

' "It's not as if..." she said. And then her scalp hung open like a fish's mouth. The roots of her crown were stoplight red.'

Celice and Joseph first met as part of a group of doctoral biology students brought together in a 'study house' at Baritone Bay for field research.

'Why would the men attempt to sleep with clever, maiden graduates or even flirt with them, when they could purchase girls like these tough teenagers and nothing to negotiate except for the price.'

Celice is attracted to Joseph when she hears him singing.

'Love songs transcend, transport, because there's such a thing as love. But hymns and prayers have feeble tunes because there are no gods.'

Thirty years later they return to the place where their love was consummated.

'They paid a heavy price for their nostalgia.'

As I read this book, I found myself jotting down passages that I liked the sound of.

'The floods would chase along the lower town with street deliveries of wrack, eelgrass and crabs.'

I had intended to return this book to the second-hand bookshop but for now I'm going to savour it at least a second time.

100 Pronunciation of names
Monday 25 October 2004

There is a very pretty young woman who does the laundry and cleans at the MIC Guesthouse. Her name (or perhaps nickname) is Ngaa.

To pronounce this name correctly, first say the English word 'song'. Now drop the 'so'. Now add 'aa' to what's left. Sounding good but can you make it more nasally? Now drag it out a bit longer and drop the tone of the last part of the 'aa' sound—so it goes Nga-a. Don't forget to be nasally.

That's what I hear when Spy calls her. Sounds horrible to me but she has probably been called that way all her life and it doesn't appear to have done her any harm.

While we are on the subject of pronunciation, the name of this country is Laos. It only has one syllable and rhymes with 'how'.

If you look at the word in Lao or Thai characters, there is no character to indicate an 's' sound. The reason we spell it like that is because Laos was colonized by the French and as I'm sure you are aware, the last consonant in a French word is usually silent. Unfortunately, when we try to pronounce it following English rules we feel the need to make two syllables and pronounce the 's'. Try saying it that way here and the locals don't have a clue what you are talking about.

By the way, the adjectival form is usually 'Lao' without the 's' but pronounced the same. 'Laotian' is formed from that English mispronunciation and is equally incorrect.

99 Of girls and bombs
Monday 25 October 2004

Prostitution is illegal in Laos and was apparently almost non-existent until recently. Perhaps that's one of the effects of the success of tourism. Fortunately, it's not as brazen as in some parts of Bangkok—yet.

There are two ladies who often greet me with a 'sa bai dee' on the corner of Thanon Setthathirat. One could hardly be more than four foot tall. Maybe for some there's curiosity value in that.

Tuk-tuk drivers will often politely greet me and ask if I want a tuk-tuk. When I answer 'no', the next question invariably is 'would you like a girl?' The other night one asked if I was missing anything. I didn't get the point at first until he added 'some love'.

The Vientiane Times reported recently on a survey by the Public Health Service which showed a low level of condom use among 'service women' in Oudomxay province. Perhaps I'm a bit slow. It took me a minute to realise that 'service women' are not soldiers.

The Vientiane Times is the main English language newspaper here, published by the Lao Press in Foreign Languages, Ministry of Information and Culture. Many of its articles are about achievers who are setting a good example for the community.

Another interesting article told of nine people being killed by UXOs (land mines) in Xieng Kuang province last week. This is the highest death toll of any month this year but obviously the deaths are not an unusual occurrence.

Seven died when a man was chopping wood and his axe connected with a cluster bomb hidden just under the ground. Six of the dead were children who were playing nearby. In another incident which killed two, the father of one commented philosophically 'It was great that I saw my son go to feed the buffalo, but unlucky that we lost a child.'

98 Vientiane Markets
Sunday 24 October 2004

The two biggest markets in Vientiane are separated by a road, a few shops and the bus station. They are Talaat Sao, known as the morning market but it's open all day and Talaat Khua Din. I spent this morning exploring.

Never before have I seen so much silk in so many rich and varied patterns. For anyone wanting to buy silk, this is perhaps the place to come. I also noticed shirts and jackets with motifs that I assumed were Thai because that's where I'd seen them before and also shirts that are very common in Malaysia. I wondered if perhaps clothing that is marketed as Thai, Malaysian or whatever perhaps originates in Laos. But no, they are quite open. On one stall I was told, 'This mohom shirt comes from Thailand.'

The markets do not sell only cloth and clothing. In fact there would be very little that could not be bought in these markets.

Tonight as I was on my way out to dinner, I was walking up Thannon Samsenthai. I heard a voice from the shadows. 'Please, can you help me?' I turned to see a small woman with an overnight bag. I recognised her before she recognised me. Or perhaps to her all Westerners look the same. I shook my head and smiled as I walked on.

97 Everyone wants a sponsor
Saturday 23 October 2004

I understand that the average salary of employees at the Lao National Library is about $A45 per month. Anyone who knows me well is aware that I live frugally; but I have no trouble spending $A10-15 a day here. I am not sure how people manage to stretch such a small amount over a month, especially with a family.

Spy is also on a small salary. He tells me all his friends are married but he can't afford to marry as it would cost about $A45,000 to buy a house and land. Impossible on his income.

He has a degree which includes English (he speaks it well) and accountancy. He says that if he could get a sponsor, for $A50-60,000 he could set up his own guesthouse. He figures he could repay the money in two years.

As I look around Vientiane, I see young people in small businesses that have a prosperous look about them. Perhaps they have found a sponsor and are now getting their share of the tourist dollar.

96 Lao delicacy
Saturday 23 October 2004

Today Sivilay took me on a trip to Nam Ngum Lake which is actually a dam. It was good to get out of town for a change and see a bit of the Lao countryside. Ricefields have a special appeal with their changing colours throughout the season. It is now harvest time so there was plenty of activity. You could pick the harvesters by the row of pointed hats in the middle of the field.

On the edge of the lake is Laos' only casino, such as it is—perhaps a lot less activity than most Sydney sporting clubs. I'm sure Sivilay told me this was the purpose of our visit but there are gaps in our communication so I wasn't aware until we got there.

Just before the casino was a row of hawker stalls and Sivilay insisted that we get out and eat there. I have to agree. Hawker food is far superior to hotel food. Sivilay ordered for both of us—much of the usual stuff: somtam, sticky rice, vegetables, boiled chicken, spicy soup but the first dish to be placed on the table was a bowl of fried grasshoppers*. Sivilay delighted in this delicacy. I've been offered them before and declined but this time I decided I would try just one. Sorry, no photographic evidence. You'll have to take my word for it.

It was OK. Not so fantastic that I felt I should have another but if that was all there was to eat, I wouldn't have a problem. And if they were going to eat my crops, I'd be glad to eat them first. Actually, I think the strongest flavour was the cooking oil. Perhaps, like ants, they are in fact a little bland.

I wandered around the lakeshore while Sivilay went inside to win some money. Yes, she was successful and happy with her winnings. It didn't really seem a lot to me but when I thought about it, It was equal to quite a few months salary to her. I could understand the smile on her face.

* Since I have returned to Mahasarakham I have shown the photographs to a local who insists they are not grasshoppers but an insect that lives in the ground. Well, perhaps they are some sort of cricket but they are built just like a grasshopper and grasshoppers are eaten in this region.

95 Please help me!
Friday 22 October 2004

Went to the library again today. It was open. Apparently they had a meeting yesterday.

When I left, I decided to go home the long way and buy some fruit. As I was crossing the fountain square a small woman approached me. She was perhaps about 40, not badly dressed, but on the other hand she obviously wasn't wealthy. She had an overnight bag, a rug and a few belongings.

'Can you help me?' she asked. 'I have just come here from Pakse (pronounced pak-see). I have no money for a guesthouse and nowhere to stay tonight.

Two trains of thought ran through my head. One was—what can I do to help her? And the other—does she want to rip me off? I could not resolve these different ideas. She seemed to speak reasonable English so I suggested she should find someone who lives in town and I left her there looking very worried.

As I walked on to the fruit stalls I continued the dialog with myself.

'You have three beds in your room. It wouldn't hurt you to let her have one.'

'Yeah, and in the middle of the night, I'll wake up and find she's gone and all my money too.'

'You're the one who wrote that article for Tzu Chi about giving without expectations. Here's your chance to put it into practice.'

'Is she genuine? She would have known before she left Pakse that she would need accommodation. She has made choices. I can't be responsible.'

'Maybe she is escaping from a husband who beat her. Maybe all she wanted to do was get away.'

The dialog turned into a monolog.

'Here you are in this, one of the world's poorest countries. You've been given an opportunity to help another human being and you've blown it.'

After I got back to my room a solution hit me. She didn't have to even come into my room. She said she only wanted a room for one night. I could afford to rent a separate room for her.

I went and told the story to Spy, to see if he thought it was a good idea to help her.

'She's about this high and she says she's from Pakse?' he asked. 'She's been here before. She latches on to farang males and steals all their cash.'

94 Social security in Laos
Thursday 21 October 2004

I am to meet Sivilay at the library this morning but when I get there it is closed with no sign to say when it will open. In the afternoon it is still closed.

I spend the day wandering and take a look through the National Cultural Museum which gives an overview of the diverse peoples of Laos with an emphasis on the recent struggles against American imperialism.

It is interesting to observe the changes brought to Laos by tourism, which must be one of the country's major foreign exchange earners. Many restaurants have been decorated in an international style. The tourists, who will pay a little more, seem more comfortable in these places but the Laos influence in them tends to be small. You could be eating in Brisbane or Sydney. Many of the restaurateurs who have not taken this road do little to encourage Westerners. At one I got the feeling they didn't really want to serve me at all. I ended up having my lunch at the spring-roll place again.

While I was eating an old woman hobbled along on a rough stick. She squatted down on the footpath right outside the restaurant and began to beg. Many restaurant patrons handed her a note as they left. (I don't think Laos has coins. If they do, they are worthless.) I expected the management would shoo her off. But no, they brought her a bowl of food and a bottle of water. I am not sure if social security exists in this so-called communist state. Perhaps this is their version of it.


93 National Library of Laos
Wednesday 20 October 2004

I have decided to stay on at the MIC Guesthouse. I paid four times as much for a room of similar quality in Singapore. It had one double bed and air-conditioning and I had to share the bathroom. This one has only a fan but it has its own bathroom, such as it is. I think security is not great, so I will carry my valuables with me—but not in a loose bag.

Spy (that's his nickname), looks after the front counter here. He speaks fairly good English. When I pay another day's rent I ask him where to find the National Library.

I have decided that today I will try to make contact with Sivilay, a librarian who works at the National Library. I first met her in Mahasarakham during my visit in 2001 for the MSU storytelling camp. I saw her again a couple of times last year, both in Thailand and Laos. The theft of my computer earlier this year means I no longer have her contact info.

Fortunately the library is only a short walk from the guesthouse. It is in a French colonial building that has a lot of charm. It would look great restored but such extravagances would not be within the budget of the Lao government.

Sivilay is not in her office but someone phones her mobile and I am able to speak with her. Five minutes later we are talking face to face.

She is on her way to another government department with a colleague to make arrangements for her forthcoming visit to USA. My timing is good. She is only waiting for her visa and will be on her way. I might have missed her completely. I come along for the ride. When she explains to her colleague who I am, I can understand about half of what she says. I realise there must be a few similarities between Laos and Thai languages.

After we return to the library Sivilay takes me to meet the director, Kong Netta Vong, who I met on my previous visit. Behind the main library building is a yard that is used for parking, including several bookmobiles in various states of disrepair. It also contains one small but solid building and behind it are several buildings with walls of woven bamboo or rattan. I think there is printing equipment in one. Others could possibly be homes. Chickens scratch in the dirt. Around the entrance to the solid building women sit with vegetables and I am not sure what else. Are they the tuckshop for the workers in this building?

Madame Netta Vong is busy in her office which is divided in two by files of some sort. I sit in a little conference area in the back section while Sivilay talks with her. Sivilay then goes off and leaves me with Madam who tells me of the many projects she is administering. She was due to retire last year but was asked by the minister to stay on.

Later Sivilay takes me through buildings in the yard to the back entrance of a little restaurant where we have lunch. After lunch I spend some time in the library reading room, where rather than Buddha, pictures of of Marx and Lenin preside. I stay until there is an electricity blackout, then wander off and find the local bookshop that caters to Westerners.


92 Nong Khai to Vientiane
Tuesday 19 October 2004 7.35 pm

The soi (lane) that Mut Mee is at the end of has a little community within it. There is another guesthouse as well as an art gallery and a little bookshop.

After dinner last night I took a walk downtown. Nong Khai is definitely a tourist town, perhaps only by virtue of being the stop off point on the way to or from Laos. It is definitely more Westernised than Mahasarakham, Khon Kaen or Udon Thani but nowhere near as much as Chiang Mai.

Nong Khai has decent footpaths but in the main city area at night they are blocked by an abundance of food stalls with tables and chairs set across the pavement.

Last time I came to Vientiane I stayed in a guesthouse of some government department. I don't know what it cost as someone else looked after the bill. But the room was adequate. My Lonely Planet guide mentions the Ministry of Information and Culture Guesthouse as being the cheapest in town. I thought perhaps it was the same one.

After I passed through immigration at the Laos border I was besieged by mini bus drivers, or their touts, who insisted that the full-size bus standing there would not take me to Vientiane. I feel sure now they were lying. I negotiated a fare with them that I realized later was about double what I needed to pay. Most of them had never heard of the MIC Guesthouse but one knew it and he gave instructions to the one who took me. When we got to Vientiane, about 20 k away, he took me down streets I didn't recognise and eventaullly stopped outside a pokey building with a sign that simply said 'guesthouse'. This was definitely not the place I'd stayed in. I wondered if perhaps he thought I had not been here before and therefore didn't know better so he was bringing me to one where he got a commission. I refused to get out and showed him the LP. He kept repeating the name of the street saying 'yes, yes'. When I showed him the map he seemed to understand differently so off we went again. Eventually he pulled up in front of another small but not-so-pokey guesthouse. It was definitely not the one I'd stayed in before but the sign out the front did read 'MIC Guesthouse'. I felt I couldn't argue anymore. I paid my money and went inside.

The rate is 45,000 kip a night. It sounds a lot but I figure that's less than $A7, so it shouldn't break me. Rooms have three beds. The fee is the same whether one, two or three are occupied. I took a look and it's not that bad. At least it gives me somewhere to stay for one night. If I don't like it, I can move on. Actually, I'm exhausted, partially from the heat and partially, I guess, from the stress of being totally alone in a country I'm not that familiar with and in whose language I can only say 'hello'. Perhaps I have become very comfortable with my life in Mahasarakham. Perhaps I need to be shaken out of my comfort zone once again. But right now all I want to do is sleep.

When I wake up I go for a walk in search of lunch. At the end of the street, or perhaps splitting it, is a building I remember from my previous visit. It had only just opened then. It is a modern building with traditional Lao features. At that time I was told it was illegal to photograph it and when I questioned this was told emphatically to not even think about it. This grand building is the national cultural hall and is also administered by the Ministry of Information and Culture.

I walk a few blocks passing several restaurants. I am looking for somewhere that I can see what I want. The best way to communicate in these situations is to point.

I find a place that looks clean inside. The food is being prepared and cooked on the footpath and it includes lots and lots of green vegetables. I decide that's what I want. I take a seat and a young woman brings me a menu. It has pictures and a very basic name in both English and Lao. I point to one that says 'spring roll'. She shows me another page that shows pork. I shake my head and say 'no'. She asks 'Beer Lao, Pepsi?' Once again I shake 'no' and grasping for an alternative I say 'narm' in the hope that she understands the Thai word.

Apparently she does because another young woman appears shortly with a glass of water. While I'm waiting for the food to arrive I look up my phrase book and find that 'narm' is the word for drink and that 'narm deaum' is water. As in Thailand my pigeon suffices.

The food arrives one plate after another, one is green vegetables: lettuce, some of the wild vine leaves that are eaten in this part of the world, mint and basil. Another has cucumber, bean sprouts, star fruit and whole green chillies. There is a little plate of cold noodles. They look a little like the ones that in Thailand are made from fermented rice and I have always avoided. I taste them. They seem OK. I am hungry enough to take a risk right now. There is a plate of what is basically a chopped cold pork sausage. Once again I'm hungry enough to eat it. When I dig amongst the greens there are rice paper wrappers, so I can make my own spring rollls with these ingredients. It is a filling meal and costs less than $A2.

After lunch I spend a couple of hours walking the streets and getting the lay of the land until once again the heat tires me out.


91 Instant Millionaire
Monday 18 October 2004 6.25 am

Have spent the day on buses between Mahasarakham and Nong Khai and am now sitting under a grass roof by the bank of the Mekong in the restaurant of Mut Mee Guesthouse. Decided to spend a night here rather than rush into Laos and have to find accommodation late in the afternoon.

Last year when I came to Nong Khai I looked up the Lonely Planet and this place sounded good. But I was walking from the bus station and it's quite a walk. I found Sawasdee Guesthouse and it looked fine so I stayed there. I have no complaints about Sawasdee and would have gone back but I got an email from Mangpor recommending Mut Mee. I decided to give it a go.

The trick is to get off the bus where it turns off the highway. There are fewer tuk-tuk drivers to harass you and it's not so far to walk.

This place is extremely pleasant with several buildings and among them a treed courtyard with the grass-roof restaurant / sitting area. They have a range of rooms from basic to extra-pleasant to cater for various budgets. I got a room with an ensuite, fairly basic by Western standards but at about $A8.50 for the night, I'm not complaining. Here's the website for anyone heading to Nong Khai.

While I've been sitting here, a young English guy asked if I wanted to exchange some kip (Lao currency) for baht (Thai). Apparently it's impossible to get rid of—even in Laos the banks will not change it back into foreign currency. You just have to spend it or lose it.

I gave him 120 baht ($A4.20) and got 34,000 kip. The smallest notes are 500 kip and that's worth less than seven Australian cents. If you want to get rich quickly, go to Laos and convert your money—instant millionaire.


90 Out of Thailand
Tuesday 12 October 2004

I will be out of Thailand from next Tuesday, October 19. My plan is to travel to Nong Khai on Monday 18 and cross into Laos on Tuesday. Initially I will head for Vientiane. I will spend about two weeks in Laos. Towards the end of that time I will apply for a new visa to return to Thailand for another three months. Assuming that is granted, I hope to return to Thailand, and Mahasarakham, in the first few days of November.


I have made it a goal to learn to travel lighter. I have learned a few things from fellow travellers met in Melaka. I will take less clothes and wash more often. I have also decided not to take my computer. This will be a test of just how attached I might be to this thing.

I know there are thousands who wait eagerly for my every blog entry ; ). Sorry, you will just have to wait. I will take a paper notebook and if there is anything I feel I really must write about, it will be recorded for later inclusion. See you when I get back.



89 The Best?
Friday 8 October 2004 8.30 am

If the United States is such a good example of democracy; why is it that from a population of 250 million, the two best candidates they can come up with for president are Bush and Kerry?



88 Who are the real Australians?
Wednesday 6 October 2004 8.45 am

Yesterday I posted my absentee vote for Saturday's Australian Federal Election. Last night on cable TV, I watched the ABC's 4 Corners election report, even though I'd made up my mind. Hey, I am interested in what they have to say.

Included in the program were interviews with 'ordinary' Australians, usually shown standing in front of their homes. Questions revolved around what they thought the issues were and which party could best resolve those issues. It seems that the average Australian, as presented by the ABC, is mainly interested in 'what's in it for me?' What came home to me was how much these people have compared to the people I meet here in Asia and how their attitude towards the election was basically: 'What's in it for me?'

One young man must have been about 30. He was standing in front of a house probably bigger than any his parents ever owned. He said that 40% of his income went into paying off his mortgage. He was concerned that if Labor won, interest rates might rise and he might have difficulties. This was typical of the general attitude presented.

The producers of the program make choices: the people they include, the questions they ask. Is this a presentation of who
Australians really are?



87 The real issue
Tuesday 5 October 2004

In the coming month both Australia and USA have major elections. These two countries are among the wealthiest nations on earth.

'Homeland security' is considered to be a major issue in both elections. I would suggest there is a greater issue.

Every day over 24,000 people die in this world from starvation.

I believe that if in the past the wealthy nations of the world had made this issue their top priority, 'homeland security' would not be an issue today. Unfortunately, neither of these countries are addressing this issue in their current election campaigns. Consequently, I suspect 'homeland security' will continue to remain an issue.

© copyright John Shield 2003 - 2004

To read this in the order it was written, scroll to the bottom and work your way up.

April 2004, includes: My first trip to KL; Passport; New computer; Karma.

May 2004, includes: Getting it all together; Across the street culture; It's happened again; Writing process; Sincerity; Boring; Why?; Bag snatchers; Cross-cultural communications; Listening without projections; Malaysian or what?; Definitely Malaysian; Battling Bunga Raya; Free food.

June 2004, includes: A democratic proposal; Towards a mail-forwarding etiquette; The smell of durian; Almost free food; Charity fair; Fighting evil; Attempted robbery; Smokers; Cyber cafes; Tropical fruit-lovers paradise; Consumer society; Another snatch-theft death; Passport application—again; Why I prefer squat toilets; If I had a mothball in this hand; Troubles in southern Thailand; Ninety-one today; Going back; Stopping the snatchers; Karma and choice; Hazy skies; Formula for happiness; Where to next?; Trishaw respect; Desire for union; My new grandson.

July 2004, includes: No water; Malaysian society & politics; Buying a camera; KL scam; Attachments; Garage Band; Grandchildren; Moves; Farewell Tzu Chi; Travelling: Melaka - Penang; Women in black; Bureaucracies: I can cope; Giving with no expectations; Back in Thailand; Making merit.

August 2004, includes: Back to Mahasarakham; Independence; Passing time; Observations from the omelette shop; Pad Pak; Procession; Storm; Famine?

September 2004, includes: Street vendors; The omelette shop; Shopping in Sri-sawas; Restaurants; Off to Udon; In Udon; Toad soup; Buying speakers; Sweet talk; The price of happiness; The right to vote.

November 2004, includes: Visa applicataon; Lao Tradition show; At the bus station; I didn't make it; Tips for travellers to Vientiane; Visit to an Isaan village; Crickets and grasshoppers; Don't eat cockroaches; Village of the Red Waterholes; Thai winter; All Asians look alike?

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