Vourneen Taylor writes about taking in all the flavours of the New Year celebrations in the southeast Asian country
NOT ONLY was there plenty of water but the food was great too. Vientiane, the capital of Laos, is an ex French colonial capital, and the restaurants and cafes boasted scrumptious menus with a strong French influence.
After downing a couple of GT’s by the Mekong riverside, we decided to indulge ourselves in the highly recommended Cote d’Azur restaurant, run by a large French chef and his petite Laos wife. On the menu was fine French Provençale cuisine, including rabbit stew and duck. For the backpackers, they also have a selection of pizzas, herbed to perfection and a great selection of red wine. At home, it would be the type of establishment that would cause your wallet to disintegrate by merely walking through the door. However, the main courses here averaged only €5.
For lunch, we soon became regulars in JoMa Cafe and the Scandinavian Bakery. JoMa served foot-long French baguettes with your choice of filling, and the Scandinavian offered a similar selection of fresh sandwiches and pastries. However, its staff really got into the spirit of New Year by hosing us with water while we were seated outside. My boyfriend cunningly got his revenge by throwing his glass of water over the girl, much to the other staff’s delight.
The capital was deserted by night, but the next day it exploded again with water. Madness ensued. The street filled with pick-ups carrying gangs armed with water bombs, guns and buckets. The uniform of the masses were bright Hawaiian shirts and straw hats.
Passing a corner, you could see a slightly tipsy group completely saturated and dancing to blaring pop music with water gun in hand.
Approaching a wat or temple was like entering a war zone. Bouncy castles and music blared beside statues of Buddha. People paid there respects by throwing buckets of water on the statues and there were water guns everywhere.
At one of the bigger temples, we talked to a couple of young monks who explained it was a time of renewal and rebirth, and no matter if the year was good or bad, you could celebrate a new beginning. They wrapped bracelets around our wrists made from orange thread and blessed us with good luck, good health, and happiness. The positive energy exuding from the monks left me with a warm feeling.
We went to Fathima Indian restaurant on the riverfront for our next evening meal. There was a vast selection of flavoursome vegetarian, chicken and meat curries, with most dishes only costing €1. The lady running this restaurant really reflected the nature of Laos people. As the restaurant was located at the heart of the celebrations in the city, she had been busy from early morning serving tourists.
It was around 10.30pm as we were finishing and a psychotic French man refused to pay the few dollars he owed. He then proceeded to be rude and obnoxious to both her and her young family.
In response, she calmly showed the man the bill again. He stormed out without paying.
Instead of getting annoyed, she just laughed and turned around and sat down to help an expat hippie improve his Laos language skills with a smile. “Bor pen yang” (loosely translated as “don’t worry, be happy”).