Missing; one dog.

Since I offered a few observations  in my last Letter about the rainy season here, it has barely stopped raining, so please assume that all my commentaries on life here come with a warning about their accuracy and reliability.
Sadly, it seems that my lovely Vietnamese  grocer/wine merchant has closed. For a week or so the owners had appeared less friendly than I was accustomed to, which had been rather puzzling, but I guess they had other things on their mind. Whether its a family crisis and they will re-open I have no means of knowing,  but for now the shop is just one more deserted and boarded up property.  The Vietnamese are economically very active and successful here, which is the source of some slight friction, as many  Lao people observe their neighbours becoming more obviously wealthy while they do not. The same owners also run a specialist wine shop which I have never visited as it does not give the impression of selling 5 litre boxes of  cheap Portuguese wine, but I must check if it has survived.
At a lower level of economic activity there is now a Vietnamese lady who comes from door to door selling bowls of tofu for 2000Lak (about 16 pence). After my experience in China when, whatever I did I ended up being served tofu  (of various colours) for every meal for 5 days  I never want to see another bowl of tofu again, so I am afraid that I am unable to support her endeavours.
Apart from the loss of my grocer I also have to report the loss of my dog;or the 10%  share in him that I claimed. He was unaccountably absent at breakfast 2 days running,which led to my making some enquiries about his welfare. It seems that the neighbours (without consulting the minority shareholder) have given him away to their daughter who lives a couple of miles across town. In a fair world they would have given her the pink guitar, and maybe its owner (her young brother) instead, but, regrettably,  they both remain in situ, whilst the dog has gone. Writing the words "pink guitar" has made me consider if there is maybe not a slight linguistic error here; maybe the boy heard about punk music and didn't quite understand? I wonder if the world is really ready for Pink Music?
 (We did have a bit of a stand-off the other evening; to his advantage was a series of powercuts, which prevented my retaliation; to my my advantage were regular showers; quite reasonably from their perspective, the parents seem not to allow him and his guitar in the house, so he has to sit outside, and maybe for fear that the colour might run, the rain produced a welcome silence.)

I thought that I had  a new, if strange pet to replace the dog, but after 3 days of toying with my affections it has disappeared. I refer to what I can best describe as a lizard..though I don't that's quite what he is, but he is certainly not a gecko having much longer legs and a more slender body. He had taken up residence in my bathroom, where I also do the washing up. One morning he was standing in a half empty cup of coffee, as if soaking it up through the pores, and next day he was doing the same in the half full washing up bowl. One more appearance emerging from a pile of damp clothing seems to have been his swansong. I was minded to call him Longford, whose name some of you will recognise as an eccentric but charming politician who had a similar build to that of  the lizard.

I have now made good the omission of not having been to my local temple. This week saw the start of Bun Khao Phansa (Buddhist Lent). I did try to send some of you a message saying Happy Bun Khao Phansa. But when I did Hotmail was having none of it and kept rejecting it saying that the message appeared suspicious !! ( a little cultural ignorance and insensitivity there I think). When I tried to discover what the problem was I was offered 2 remedies. Firstly I could re-write the message, but given that there is only so much you can do with 4 words, I passed on the that. The second was that I could pay for an enhanced service. Well, now you know..so long as you don't mind paying for the privilege, Hotmail is happy for you to send suspicious, offensive or illegal messages. In writing this I am assuming that Google has fewer qualms about the words Bun (that can't be the suspicious word can it ?),Khao, I thought meant "food" or "rice" which seems inoffensive enough ,and  Phansa...which I guess has to be the guilty party here.

Anyway, after that long wander from the point, I went to the temple to give alms. It was just as well that I did, since the whole village was there and my absence, as the sole falang might have been noticed.  ( Not that I claim to be intrinsically interesting, but just like the village idiot, whom I possibly resemble, one wonders where he is if you have not seen him for a day or two.) There was just so much food on offer that I guess much will end up being thrown away. I now understand why my son visits his old temple on Buddha days; not to give, but to help take care of some of the leftovers ! The monks had to have young lay assistants carrying baskets and bags for the overflow,as they kept emptying out their bowls out (whilst keeping a pretty firm grip on the the 1000kip notes that they had been given; I had not come prepared for that aspect of things and so was unable to make any cash donations. There were about 50 monks and novices,  so 50,000kip  would have covered the lot. But at least I know for next time.)
Whilst I  might have been inadvertently guilty of meanness I could not be faulted in terms of dress. A friend, who must have had - totally unfounded - anxieties about how I might dress  had had pressed a pair of dark silk blue trousers  (dunno when they were last pressed, about 2006 I think) for me and despite my having, at the last count about 25 shirts in the wardrobe, had given me a nice white cotton shirt shirt as  Lenten gift. I found it a bit problematic doing it up, until I realised that it was a ladies' shirt and therefore had the buttons on the left; but what's a little bit of cross dressing between friends? ( "And it was a special occasion, your Honour ".)
A good meal for the monks, maybe but I suffered a further, and maybe greater, culinary disaster than previously reported.  I had all the necessary ingredients for an excellent meal...with a delicious pork chop as its centrepiece  ( I knew it to be delicious since I had enjoyed an identical one the previous night). But there were bits and pieces that needed finishing up which I set about cooking. I had some steamed rice and vegetables that I threw in the wok with a view to making fried rice...which, lets face it anyone can cook. But maybe I don't have mastery of the wok, or its the wrong kind of rice (thank you Railtrack for that excuse), but  the result was a kind of glutinous, lukewarm porridge, which had  the additional disadvantage of having prevented the chop from cooking properly. However, while that disaster was unfolding  I set about doing some garlic bread. Another problem; the baguette in question had acquired a growth that was an interesting shade of greyish green and looked a little unappetizing.  (For some reason it reminded me of  the  designer stubble exhibited by failed Labour politician and my former MP, Charles Clarke.) You could say that I toyed with  rather than enjoyed my food, but  all was not lost and I decided to have some muesli to fill me up a bit. It was very tasty, especially the insects which  had colonised it. Small ants I think they were; I shall check them out before sending the details to Deliah.

What made it worse is that no sooner had I dealt with this feast a Lao friend dropped by wondering if he could grab a meal; which he did...a fried egg roll, of the delicious kind that  you  can sometimes get in a layby on the A6 at about 5.30am, washed down with a mug of tea. I could have killed him.

Meanwhile the Authorities here in LPB continue  with their road safety campaign in the most desultory fashion. Popular opinion is that you should wear a crash helmet while driving your bike on a Monday, but the rest of the week it  doesn't matter. The police, who of course are moderately corrupt, set up checkpoints all over town on a Monday, but once having collected enough in fines for their weekly expenses retire into  HQ for the remainder of the week to play cards and drink beer, or whatever it is they do.Isn't that so typically Lao? Anywhere else they would have abused their position 7 days  a week, but here, Monday nets just enough so why bother with Tuesday et al ?
The other day whilst waiting a lift  (sans helmet; it can't have been Monday) I counted about half of all drivers using helmets. But more interesting was of those not wearing them, almost half were carrying them about their person, either in a basket at the front, or over their arm, as it they were an amulet or good luck charm, rather than a piece of actual equipment designed to come between their skull and the road in the event of them coming into close and unexpected contact.

Finally, although I have spent many pleasurable hours gazing across the city from my balcony it was only today that I realised just how high we are up here in Ban Nar Luang. Between the trees I can see Phousi Temple, but instead of looking  up at it, I am looking across at it, or even fractionally down on it. I can't recall how many steps it is to the top of Mount Phousi, but I  believe that the climb is seared on the memory of at least 2 of you!

Alan