Taking a break in Laos

Pha That Luang, Laos' most important national monument

I’m currently at Vientiane’s Wattay Airport. I know I’ve been getting further and further behind with blog entries. My drafts bin is incredibly backlogged with half written posts. In the few minutes before I have to board my flight to Kunming, I thought I’d discuss my thoughts on the very little I saw of Laos over the past four days.

Last week, I met with an intern at the Organisation internationale de la Francophonie. She is in charge of coordinating intraregional scholastic events, particularly between Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos. Not having visited Laos yet, I asked her if the overall “francophone-ness” of Laos was comparable to that in Vietnam and Cambodia, which is practically nonexistent (maybe slightly higher in Cambodia than in Vietnam, but in Vietnam, you are maybe 95% more likely to see English around than French). She said that in her opinion, Laos was just as un-francophone as Vietnam, if not even more so. She claimed that Vietnam was by far the most francophone of the three Indochinese countries. (Of course, “francophone-ness” is sorely in need of a working definition, which I hope to get to in my next post.)

Roaming around Vientiane by foot over the past few days, I must say that I wholeheartedly disagree with the intern’s assessment. Vientiane is much more francophone than Ho Chi Minh City (where the intern has been living for the past eight months). French is not an official language here, but, like in Cambodia, it serves as a language of administration. Street signs are bilingual in Lao and French, as are signs for government agencies. Tailors and jewelers abound in the heart of the center city, many of which proudly advertise “Tailleur” and “Joaillerie.” Since I didn’t try to engage in conversation in French with that many locals, I can’t really discern the level of French comprehension among the general public, but I did not notice that most French people used English when speaking to locals. On that note, based on my observations, there were far more French foreigners than any other nationality. Nevertheless, the mere presence of French in public is already quite significant. It’s a bit reminiscent of Hong Kong, where a large proportion of signs are bilingual English/Chinese. While I’d be hard pressed to call the average Hong Konger functionally bilingual, I can’t deny that Hong Kong is anglophone.

French store signs

For my pâté loving friends, just know that Laos is a suitable destination for relocation. There is pâté everywhere.

In addition to my own observations, according to educational policy in Laos, French is the language of instruction for a third of the country’s students, with many others learning French as a foreign language. On my way to the monstrous Patuxai (Victory Monument), I noticed both the Lycée de Vientiane and Institut français on the wide Avenue Lane Xang. At the Institut français, I spoke briefly with an elderly man who was chatting with the waitresses. His French was perfect. It was reminiscent of Brett Dakin’s work, “Another Quiet American,” published over a decade ago. In his account of his time in Vientiane, he noted that locals, particularly older ones, would gather at a Club Francophone to practice French. It’d be fascinating to do a comparative study on impressions of French language between Vietnam and Laos (namely Ho Chi Minh City and Vientiane). Just as a side note, the Institut français in Vientaine is much nicer in terms of facilities than its counterpart, IDECAF, in Ho Chi Minh City. It is a much more welcoming educational space.

Unlike in most other Asian cities, it’s hard to provide any broad generalizations on which foreign country has most influenced Vientiane. With a smattering of development aid from Japan, a seemingly love-hate relationship with Vietnam, geographic proximity and cultural similitude to Thailand, the omnipresent Chinese diaspora, the French colonial legacy, and American-dominated globalization, Vientiane is so diverse that perhaps the multitude of foreign influences may well crowd out the francophone-ness, making it proportionally less francophone than Saigon. Who knows?

Francophonie aside, there are a lot of other peculiarities about Vientiane. Despite being the capital of one of the poorest countries in the world and the very last ASEAN country to join the WTO (even after Myanmar), the city does not seem very poor. Perhaps it’s due to the relatively low population of the city, but I felt safer in Vientiane than I’ve felt in any Vietnamese city. Sure, there are the tuk-tuk touts and a ton of prostitutes, but I was never followed or heckled, which is more than I can say for Ho Chi Minh City. Browsing the Morning Market (Talat Sao) was nothing like browsing Ben Thanh Market. I don’t think a single vendor approached me when I expressed zero interest in their goods. The market was clean, quiet, and very orderly, much like the layout of the entire city. On the street, I saw practically no beggars, and far less overt poverty than in Phnom Penh. How do they do it?

The overall atmosphere of Vientiane was calm, relaxed, and leisurely. Truly, Lao PDR stands for “Please Don’t Rush.” Unlike in France, where people don’t seem to rush either, I didn’t find the slower pace a nuisance at all. In fact, I enjoyed it very much. Perhaps it’s because the slower pace was accompanied by wide grins and not scowls and bored faces. While there’s hardly anything I’d consider a “must-see” in the city, Vientiane is certainly worth a visit if only for its unique atmosphere. I don’t think it will last for very long. Following its ascension to WTO membership status this past February, Laos will hopefully see sweeping economic changes. One major change is the eight-story Morning Market annex, the Talat Sao Mall, which will replace the original, quaint market. As one foursquare user described the riverside night market, it has the atmosphere of Chiang Mai’s twenty years ago. Check it out before the charm is gone! I completely agree with assertions that Vientiane retains the quality of authentic Asia that cities like Bangkok and Saigon have lost in catering too much to tourists.

Sunset along the Mekong in the heart of Vientiane

People in Vientiane punctually arrived to the main riverside square at 6pm to participate in aerobics to the beat of techno covers of 90’s pop songs

After all that exercise, the locals headed to the night market right next door. There wasn’t a whole of food, though, unlike night markets in Vietnam and Taiwan. It seems like there aren’t a whole lot of goods manufactured in Laos as even the t-shirts say “I♥BKK,” “I♥Thailand,” and “Bangkok,” clearly imports from the country just across the Mekong.