Lao Eats

I must admit Laos has been a food reprieve from meaty Hanoi. I've gone on a bit of a food rampage and am feeling rather gluttonous. Guilty, gluttonous but happy.

Here are some of my foody-goody experiences from Vientiane...

Street-side fruit shakes near Samsenthai Road...(I highly recommend the mango...and the coconut...and the papaya...and...)

The humble little Taj Mahal restaurant in a little alley behind the National Cultural Hall serves up a mean aloo prantha (Indian bread stuffed with spicy potatoes)...it's appropriately greasy and heavy...and a nap after consumption is a must.

Fathima's has great bhaingan bartha (roasted eggplant curry) and some mighty fine chapatis (Indian flat bread)...all washed down with a not-to-sweet lassi (a drink for the gods - divine, frothy, yougurty goodness)...

Conveniently, Noy's Fruit Heaven was located right beside my hotel. The choices for fruity shakes are endless. Noy definitely deserves a place in heaven.

The Shade Restaurant along Fa Ngum Road filled my need for some good Middle Eastern food. The baba ghanoush was wonderfully spiced with ground sumac and a smattering of freshly chopped cilantro...all washed down with a refreshing lime shake.

The French influence is quite evident in Laos - and very noticeably in the cuisine. I just had to indulge in a mille feuille. It was one of the best I've ever had. If only I could remember which cafe I purchased it at...

It must seem weird that I've not talked about local Lao food. Well, the body wants what the body wants. And to keep this one ticking, I need at least one dose of Indian food per week. However, after I'd filled up on good Indian eats, I did have a great Laotian meal at Lao Kitchen on Hengboun Road.

I tried the laab. Laab means 'good fortune' and it's pretty much a required dish for celebrations and important events. I think every time I eat it's an important event so it seemed fitting.

I had the vegetarian version made with tofu, soy sauce, lime, red onion, chilli, roasted onion, mint and basil. It was served alongside some long beans (my fave), sliced cucumber and a basket of sticky rice. It was awesome and I highly recommend it!

I will leave Laos with a full belly and happy memories.

Video: Vientiane, Laos

Wowed in Lao

I’m in love with Laos. I was worried that I’d romanticized my memories of Laos and I’d be disappointed. I’m going to date myself, but I was here back in 1998 on an overland trip from Singapore-Malaysia-Thailand-Cambodia-Laos. I can’t believe the trip was completely unplanned and by way of trains, buses and hitchhiking in the back of pickup trucks. Those days are over. I’m much lazier now. This time I paid up for the luxury of flying and pre-booked a hotel. I’m definitely getting old.

It’s a quick 50-minute flight from Hanoi and the easiest visa-on-entry process I’ve ever experienced. Fill in form. Pay $42. Stamp passport. Visa issued. It took less than 5 minutes.

I’m surprised at how little has changed here. Vientiane still feels like a town and to think of it as a capital city is a stretch of the imagination. The streets are quite, the people gentle, and the pace is relaxed – all the opposite of Hanoi. It’s nice to have a break from the ceaseless honking. It’s nice to cross the street and not feel like it’s a major endeavor. It’s nice to be able to hear yourself think. It’s nice to have the concept of vegetarianism understood. Don't get me wrong - I like Vietnam, but I the last two weeks have been at a frantic pace in hectic cities.

Last night, I watched a beautiful, black, stormy sky roll into Vientiane. I wandered around the quiet streets thinking about how romantic it is here in Laos. Even strolling around the streets alone you can’t help but feel the romance. There was a lovely cool rain and I was in bliss.

So, as I sit here in a café, gazing at the Mekong river and sipping a sublime lime shake, I’ll share some highlights of my brief long-weekend here in Laos…

Monks on the streets…there’s something deeply comforting about seeing monks in their saffron robes…

The beautiful Buddhist temples and stuppas scattered throughout the city…

Seeing almost as many bicycles as scooters…

Having an excellent massage to finally work out that kink in my shoulder from 2 weeks ago. I went to a place that employs the visually-impaired. My masseur, Khamlai, was amazing!

Seeing the variety of goods in the backs of trucks…

Services that give pause for thought…(I have to admit, I did consider the #12 and for 25,000 kip it seemed like a steal...)

And life all around...

Cute girl...

Flowers for temple offering...

Rice vendor at market...

Roadside fruit vendor...

Broom vendor...

Wow...

Laundry drying in front of house...

Sidewalk shoe-smith...

At the food market...something with fur still on it...it scared me...

Rice-container vendor...

I will definitely be back to revisit more of beautiful Laos.

Horrors of War

Obliteration. Genocide. Devastation. Annihilation.

These are the words that float through my mind as I walk through the Aggression War Crimes gallery at the War Remnants Museum in Hanoi. The feelings that course through my heart are equally strong.

Horror. Shock. Anger. Rage. Hopelessness. Sadness. Numbness.

Visiting this museum has been the single most powerful experience thus far in my trip to Vietnam. I was accompanied by Nam, a young student from Tra Vinh province who volunteered to guide Karl and me through the museum so we could learn more about the American War. As we walked through the Agent Orange Aftermath gallery, Nam kept his eyes fixated on me, watching my reactions.

I won’t describe the photos I saw and the text I read because I don’t know where to begin.

I can share with you how I felt – desperate to make sense of the images I was faced with, searching to understand how such events could take place and be tolerated, and trying, trying, trying to understand the horrors the Vietnamese people like Nam’s parents and grandparents witnessed and lived through.

I don’t know what else to say.

Please don't throw rocks at me. Thanks.

Thunk! Right on the back of my head. And then surprisingly, another whack in the middle of my back before I even have time to turn around. The chanting of “Germany bad!” and “Fu*k you!” instantly stops when I spin around. The 8-year-old boy quickly hides the rock he's holding behind his back and his eyes widen with anticipation. What will I do? What will I say?

I'm a polite Canadian and I idiotically say "Please don't throw rocks at me. I'm not German. Thanks."

He tilts his head with confusion, but at least the mean glint in his eyes is gone.

The day started off on a much more positive note. Along with my counter-part, Van Anh, I headed to explore the small town of Mui Ne just outside of Phan Thiet. We hit the sand dunes first. The Mui Ne area has a unique micro-climate and it was bizarre to see palm trees quickly give way to cacti and sand dunes. Unfortunately, the sand dunes were over-run with tourists, but they were still neat to see.

A vendor on the sand dunes.

Children try to sell "sleds" to tourists to go sledding down the dunes.

We then made a spontaneous stop and took a quick peek at some pungent vats of fermenting fish sauce behind someone's house. You could definitely smell them before you saw them.

Our next stop was the 'Fairy Stream' in Mui Ne. I'd read and heard wonderful things about this spot.

You take off your shoes and walk for a few kilometres in a stream surrounded by a beautiful and strange landscape.

It started off well and the scenery is really gorgeous.

However, things quickly changed when I came across a young German woman. She was clearly upset and on the verge of tears. She explained that a group of children had followed her along the walk and when she reached the end, they claimed that they had been her 'tour guides' and demanded money from her. She said that they had just trailed behind her uninvited and that she felt she didn't owe them anything. They then started to call her names and now wouldn't leave her alone.

I volunteered to walk her back to the beginning of the trail and we headed back. The kids followed along behind us, yelling obscenities. And then things got even uglier. The yelling of “Germany bad!” and “Fu*k you!” got louder and more passionate. They became more aggressive and started throwing rocks at us. I was totally caught off guard. I was surprised suddenly at how unsafe I felt and how threatening this little 'gang' of children looked! Some of them looked to be around 14 or 15 years of age, and there was certainly a menacing look in their eyes. Both the German woman and I were happy when we safely approached the trail-head.

I later learned that these kids are not used to hearing 'no'. Apparently, most of the visitors to the Fairy Stream are Russian tourists who are quick to dole out money to the children, creating dependency relationship. It's a case of tourism gone wrong.

Is it lunchtime yet?

There are many great things about my job - the people I work with, the office environment, the casual atmosphere, the flexibility - but one of the most unexpected and wonderful surprises has been lunchtime! I'd like to introduce Huong...

She cooks lunch for the office staff every day and she charges us each 30,000 VND ($1.50 Canadian). Around 11:30 am, the smells of highly-anticipated Vietnamese dishes start to waft through the office. At noon, we all eagerly head for the lunch room/kitchen where she cooks and serves up a fresh, hot meal. It's the best Vietnamese food I've had so far! This was today's lunchtime feast...

This is the sweet and sour soup...

My new favourite dish - a beautiful salad with crunchy green papaya, shredded carrots and loads of fresh basil and mint.

And another favourite of mine - freshly fried peanuts with coarse salt.

I love the fact that Huong sits with us and shares the meal. I hope to get to know her better in the coming months...who knows, maybe she'll share some of her cooking secrets with me and I can become half the cook she is?