Hotel California

Lao hospitality being what it is it would have been easier to leave The Hotel California than to leave the boat races yesterday.  When we tried to leave there were so many 'friends' that we had to meet and say hello to. Meeting met drinking more Beer Lao (OK if I must) eating dog (ok) eating grilled chicken feet (no thanks) and eating spicy papaya salad ( No, No No....).  I managed to keep most of these meetings relatively short but ran into greater obstacles when people realised who I am !   Yes...who am I? I am the 'dad' of the legendary Monk Thong...who seems to be known to and loved by every young man who was a novice while Thong was in LPB. Once I revealed as the 'father' of Monk Thong, then chicken had to be slaughtered, fish banged on the head and fresh supplies of beer sent out for. I got home eventually, though where my phone is I have no idea.

The races were maybe not so much fun as those in LPB. We were next to a group of supporters whose boat was the first to be eliminated, so  the occasion was not so joyous. Also, we were adjacent to the 'band', which made conversation almost impossible; my views on Lao singing are, I think well know here, and I will not repeat them. There was also a group of 7 or 8 backpackers whose cultural insensitivity was matched only by their sheer ugliness. They had vests on announcing that they had been tubing in Vang Vieng; they did not need to advertise the fact, I could have guessed. When they tried to muscle (muscle is  used as a verb  here...is there a verb "to flab" ? If so it would be more accurate) into a rather wild dance being performed by a group of well oiled Lao  ladies, they were elegantly  but studiously ignored, until they slunk back into their seats.
Things picked up when the rain started and there was a kind of Glastonbury feel to things, as the ground was soon churned up into mud. For most spectators the highlight was a boat sinking at the finish line. I have to admit I eventually joined in the mirth, as the team did not get out of the boat, just sat there under the water with about 25 green covered heads in perfect formation.


The lane outside my home is being resurfaced; after a fashion. It involves a tipper truck dumping mostly broken bricks and some sundry masonry and a team of 3 or  workers, one of whom appeared to be a small girl aged about 6, smashing the largest bits into smaller ones. That's it. Simplicity itself ! The cars driving along it do the rest..... there is excellent work  for  the workshops down the road, who specialise in mending punctures.

The fruit in season this week is the pomelo  (large sweet grapefruit). I did manage a couple of pineapples in the week but I doubt that I shall find many more now. My own crops are somewhat few and far between now. I am drying off some herbs and might just have enough beans for one small serving. I have sewn more chilli and will sew some tomatoes and peppers in a few days. I brought out lots of packets of flower seeds but can't remember where I put them, but I guess they will turn up at some point.

One of our students has been in hospital this week with malaria. I had no idea it was such a debilitating disease. After 3 days he had not raised the energy to change the shirt or jeans that he was wearing when he was admitted. I advised him that if he was still wearing them on day  4 then  I would cut  them off him and take them to the incinerator for biological hazards. Come day 4 he was wearing my silk boxers and  Gray Nichols cricket shirt, which were part of the wardrobe I had provided for him ...not  exactly stylish but an improvement I felt, in terms of hygiene if not aesthetics. I have no idea what temperature he reached, but on the first couple of days you could barely touch his forehead... I did  not conduct the experiment of seeing whether I could have fried an egg on it for fear that I might not be able to break the egg accurately enough. He is better now and has been discharged. though he will miss the view now he is at home; his window overlooked the morgue. I took him the easiest  book from my collection that   I could find...The Jungle Book;. he has not yet told me how he got on with it.

My Hmong friend has just returned from a trip to see the Banana Leaf People...one of the last surviving hunter/gatherer communities in Asia. He now says they are down to 49 people; so inter-marriage is inevitable. It is apparently quite in order to marry your sister. Now, with all respect to my own sister who reads this, marrying her is something I have never contemplated ! These people move every 3 weeks or so, so they never plants crops. They are apparently brilliant hunters, but have no guns. just  spears and bow and arrows.  I hope he will take me to visit them when the rains are over and travel becomes easier.

  Right now travel here is quite dangerous, and Paul, whom many of you know, was in a very nasty accident a few days ago. Happily he survived...more or less in one piece. The road to Vietiane has been closed quite a lot these last few weeks,with landslides, and  supplies have not been getting through. I am looking forward to milk being back in the shops.In fact I did hear that at the LPB boat races, the beer ran out on the city side, and what there was was being sold at a premium. The road to Phongsali in the north is also closed right now.

Short but sweet this week..bit of a hangover this morning !!!

Best wishes

Alan