Seven-Headed Snake vs. World Economic Forum

[Vat Haysoke in Vientiane on 7/15/23]

I’m back in Laos, where I belong. I haven’t touched Beerlao, though, going on four days, and I won’t for a while. Pain is a great teacher. Eating saner and much less, my body is healing.

Yesterday, I dragged Mark to the Black Stupa. As I gaped, Mark seemed underwhelmed.

“Just look at it, man!” I exclaimed. “It’s like the Eiffel Tower!”

“It’s a bit like that tower in Pisa.” Clearly, Mark was messing with me. Only one is white and leaning.

“This is like the pyramid, man!”

As we walked away, Mark said, “I thought it would be bigger.”

“So did I, actually. In my memory, it was bigger.”

It’s big enough, and I was thrilled to see it again. A seven-headed naga is said to live inside the Black Stupa. When Siam invaded Vientiane in 1827, this naga supposedly defended the city, but Vientiane was sacked. Some Laos also believe the Siamese stripped the Black Stupa of its gold gilding.

One myth claims supernatural protection, as in God is on our side. The other stresses victimhood against a hated enemy.

Before arriving in Vientiane, I had talked up its French built library, now converted into a restaurant. Even without books, its halls and rooms still lift the spirit. Arriving there yesterday, we discovered it was permanently closed. Covid likely killed it.

Returning to Vientiane, I’m again staying in the same room at Mixok. At just 150,000 kips [$7.89] a night, it’s a huge bargain. The aim was to be near the festive night market. With my legs still a mess and often painful, I haven’t been able to get out in the evening, however.

During the day, I still have access to the excellent food in the neighborhood. Still limiting myself to just one meal a day, I’ve had beef tacos and beef burrito at Greenhouse. Sitting in Café Vanille, I’m about to have a Salade Raclette for 96,000 kips [$5.02]. Vanille’s large menu includes a duck salad with foie gras, smoked duck and candied duck for $4.95. Several dishes feature “Vientianou cheese.” First I’ve heard of it.

I cite these details to update you on Laos. In the 90’s, there were so few cars in Vientiane, each could be recognized. Laos’ recovery from war and Communist madness was going well enough, then Covid came. Having survived closed borders and lockdowns, Laos must face the New Normal and, most likely, global war. Most bombed in history, they won’t likely have missiles rain on them this time. Still, every man in every country will be slapped around, kneecapped or killed soon enough. The challenge is to avoid being among the first to die.

At Café Vanille, you can also sit outside. Though you’ll have a better view, you must also deal with the occasional beggar.

Barefoot, a skinny boy has just planted himself at the feet of an old white man. Not three feet away stands his mother. Malnourished for so long, her huge head is like a skull, with the rest of her stunted.

With his companion, another old white man, he gets up from his table to go inside. We don’t know how many times they’ve been approached like this, or how much, if any, they have given to Lao beggars. It’s safe to assume, though, they weren’t among the privileged back home. Mailmen, truck drivers or garbagemen, they toiled for decades. Near the end, they can kick back a bit. Just being here, they’re helping this economy.

At Mixok, Mark found his mattress too uncomfortable, so has moved to Villa de Mekong. Though it’s quadruple the price, it’s still cheap for any First Worlder. At Villa, Mark has a veranda outside his door. “Very atmospheric,” he said. “Somerset Maugham will be popping in anytime now.”

Winners write history, and the past is mostly recorded by the privileged, so we don’t really know, or care, what servants, serfs and slaves had to eat or wear. Even now, we don’t care to know what it’s like to live for decades as a roofer, assembly line worker, dishwasher or geriatric nurse, etc. If literate enough, we see the world through the eyes of Henry James, Evelyn Waugh and Somerset Maugham, etc. Standing on bottom rungs, we stare up at fat asses. Without ambition, a man goes nowhere.

From a country like Laos, the fattest asses are in the West, so at many Vientiane cafés, you’ll see photos of Paris, but from 70, 80 years ago, with its elegance and romance. The Paris of Le Corbusier-inspired housing, enraged North Africans, multiple Chinatowns and Americanism is nowhere to be seen.

Again, heavily-edited or even improved bits of the West will survive in the East. Its foundation, though, are native tendencies that won’t go away. Walking through Vat Haysoke just after dawn this morning, I passed young monks sweeping the ground, with one no older than nine. I admired stupa graves, with some so ostentatious, I felt pity for the ashes within. Vat Haysoke’s layered roof rose to the sky majestically. That they had been there for centuries made me feel, foolishly of course, marginally immortal. On a golden door were sculpted warriors, for much of life is war. Even to Buddhists, that much is clear.

Suddenly, though, a barking dog bounded towards me. Normally, I would pick up a stone or pretend I had one in my hand. Just acting like I was about to throw it at his head would have chased this beast away. In my sad, hobbling condition, though, I had to appease rather than intimidate, so I made a wai salute. Pitifully, I was pleading to be left alone. All those sweet monks were nowhere to be seen.

Unbitten, I entered the half-lit temple to stare at complex murals and crudely sculpted Buddhas. Returning outside, I noticed the golden dragons that acted as railings had clam shells for scales. Reappearing, the same dog no longer barked.

It’s nearly 1PM. After posting this article, I’ll zap Mark an email to see if he feels like a longish walk. Again, I’m capable of it.

There’s a tranquility to Laos that’s felt even in its biggest city. They must be doing something perfectly.

[Vat Haysoke in Vientiane on 7/15/23]

[Vat Haysoke in Vientiane on 7/15/23]

[Vientiane, 7/13/23]