Day One of Twelve

As I headed out for my first day of exploring (going further than 4 blocks as I did the night before), I passed a little (I'm not even sure what to call it) stand where a Lao woman was cooking skewered meats, and a large pot of sticky rice on charcoal. What caught my attention was a basket with what appeared to be green papaya. I stopped dead in my tracks. I looked at the woman and said in Laotian, "green papaya salad?" She confirmed my uncertainty.

It was only 10:00 in the morning and I had just finished my breakfast. I told her I'd be back.

I trudged into town to find the American Embassy, the Morning Market (Talat Sao), a car rental agency, and once again, anything that would bring me the comfort of familiarity.

Within minutes I came across the all to familiar street of Rue Samsenthai, one of the main streets that runs through downtown Vientiane. As I sat in the car rental agency I looked across the street. My eyes were filled with surprise as they stared at the sign above the jewelry store. It was one of the jewelry stores I visited in my youth, Saigon Bijou. Thirty six years later it was still there. I'm sure it was the same exact sign as nothing about it looked modern or refurbished.

I finished my business and headed in the direction of the American Embassy. I wasn't exactly sure where it was, I only knew the direction I needed to head. As I turned off of Rue Samsenthai I stopped dead in my tracks. Again, tears filled my eyes as I stared at the old monument I passed by regularly as a kid. That Dam. She looked as old as she did back all those years ago. Again, instinctively, I knew I was close to the Embassy. It's strange how your mind doesn't let you forget, even after 36 years has passed. Sure enough, I went in the direction I remembered, and came right onto the American Embassy. It was different and yet, still the same.

After completing my registration with the Embassy (safety first), I continued up the street to Rue Lang Xang. I knew the Morning Market was still here, and sure enough within a few minutes I was standing in front of it. As usual, a beehive of activity.

The area of the market that was familiar to me was enclosed by construction fencing, and all torn up. However, the Lao style building that once housed the fish and meat market, herbs including, but not limited to marijuana, and various sundries, still stood tall behind the fencing. Seeing this building, even if in the distance, brought a sense of peace to me. It remained after all these years.

Surrounding the "new" market (mall style), I was pleased to see the vendors of the past. Old women with beetle nut stained teeth selling what appeared to be roots, and barks (for medicinal purposes), handfuls of freshly harvested sweet potatoes and peanuts, and fruits that were unfamiliar to me. I stopped a woman carrying handmade baskets tied to a pole that she carried on her shoulder. I asked her how much she wanted for one basket and she replied in Lao "20,000 Kip." I told her I would pay 10,000 Kip and she refused me. I then offered her 15,000 Kip and she accepted my offer. I bought two handmade baskets for 30,000 Kip which equates to about $2.50. Shame on me. It's just the way it is in Laos. Rarely do you pay the asking price. Again, all too familiar.

After stopping for an ice cold BeerLao, I headed back towards my hotel, and what I knew might be one of the most delicious lunches I've had in 36 years.

As I approached the hut housing the woman making the papaya salad a look of surprise filled her face. I guess she didn't really think I was coming back after all. I pulled up a plastic stool to the one and only table available and joined a male patron as he stood to leave. Black flies covered the food he left behind, and buzzed around the table. Another woman removed the food and picked up a filthy rag to wipe off the table. I followed with a sanitizing wipe.

The woman making my meal held up a half of a red chili pepper to indicate the level of spiciness I could tolerate. I agreed that'd be a good place to start. Within minutes I was served a plate of the most incredibly fresh, delicious, and perfectly seasoned green papaya salad and sticky rice (served in a plastic bag, not sure about that) I'd had since I was 16 years old. With the first mouthful the flavors of the fresh lime, the salty fish sauce, the crispness of the green papaya, and the bite of the red hot chili pepper awakened my tastebuds and so many memories. The hot sticky rice provided a respite from the heat taking over my mouth. As my nose began to run, and a light sweat broke out on my brow, I took a gulp of ice cold BeerLao to wash it all down.

Yes, some things are different, and some are still the same.