“Sabaidee!”
“Sabaidee bo?”
“Sabaidee. Sabaidee bo?”
“Sabaidee eu!”
This is the conversation I have with most of the people we saw as we walked around Vientiane. You may notice the whole thing uses three words: meaning in the order in which they appeared, “relaxed good,” “no ” and “here”.
In Laos, sabaidee is more of a national credo than a singular word and so it takes on many functions including hello, how are you and I’m fine. It reflects the simplicity of the culture and it’s high value on even temperedness. Laos is very Buddhist and the people believe that passions don’t get you anywhere. So, why not just take it all in stride?
Unlike most of the world, the Lao people seem to have little ambition and a contentment with what they have. Don’t mistake it for complacency or laziness – although it can border on it. Laos is not underdeveloped. It’s largely undeveloped and despite some new buildings and cars here in Vientiane it doesn’t seem to be moving rapidly to change that.
What I have always enjoyed most about Laos is that people are so peaceful and happy. I’ve never been anyplace where people seem so content and joyful with so little. And mind you, people in Laos have less than the Balinese.
Laos remains largely agrarian – farming, fishing, shaking fruit down from the trees. Village life is simple. City life isn’t tremendously more complex.
Here in Vientiane (said Vien Chan – the French screwed up with their transliteration), the capitol and largest city in Laos, Emily spent the day asking, “Where is everyone?! Where are all the people?!” That’s because Vientiane has a whopping 262,000 people. In fact, the capitol feels more like a regional Thai town – not even as large as Chiang Mai or Chiang Rai, Thailand.
In one afternoon, Emily and I walked most of Vientiane from the bank of the Mekong, all the way across town to the Vientiane version of L’Arc de Triomphe in Paris. The French left a faint mark in Vientiane – a monument, a really nice fountain in the center of town, the Presidential Palace, a few French colonial bungalow-type buildings (nothing as grandiose as in Hanoi) and several nicely paved, wide tree-lined boulevards. They just couldn’t live without grand boulevards….
Most government buildings still list their names in French, rather than English for their foreign script. So, there’s that Lao sign for Ministry of Health with “Ministere de la Sante” underneath. But that’s about it.
That’s largely because the French could never figure out how to make Laos profitable. In fact, for much of the French colonial period, Laos was a financial drain. They tried coffee and lumber – sending it down the Mekong to Vietnam for packing and shipping. But it just never turned much profit so they never spent much time or money on Laos.
Perhaps that’s because the Lao aren’t very profit motivated.
The French had a phrase in Indochine, “The Vietnamese grow the rice, the Cambodians watch it grow and the Lao listen to it grow.”
This was of course pejorative, but really it’s sort of a compliment to the Lao people whose backs never broke under the yoke of colonialism. They very largely continued the same relaxed, traditional life they always had. A few times they even rose up against the French in places and succeeded because the French stationed very few forces in Laos.
The biggest rebellion – aka refusal to take orders anymore – took the French years to put down. It happened because the French decided to stop accepting taxes or tribute in goods and demanded (and introduced) money. The Lao people were decidedly against using money and were fine handing over some crops or fish – but to change their entire way of life to involve money – that was crossing the line.
And lines are funny things in Laos. The Mekong is the dividing line between Laos and Thailand. The two banks of the river couldn’t be more similar and different at the same time. Thailand is light years ahead in development and technology – yet culturally, the northeastern Thai and Lao people are one big family.
The Thai side of the Mekong was once Lao territory 200 or so years ago and more recently, Thailand accepted a mass wave of Lao migration during and following the Vietnam War and the communist takeover of Laos.
The King of Thailand himself was vocal that Thailand needed to help the Lao people in their time of need and offer them a place to escape bombings and political oppression. Over the years, the King continued to advocate for the interests of his northeastern subjects and not surprisingly has unquestionable reverence among the people of the Isan provinces.
Henry Kissinger wrote about how rare it is to find a nation’s capitol on the border with another nation. Kissinger attributes it to landlocked Laos having historically had much closer relations with Thailand than Vietnam – which it perceived as aggressive and culturally very different.
I also believe it has some to do with Vientiane having once encompassed a large portion of what is now Thailand’s Isan provinces. Still, that accounted for, there’s a definite comfort in and reliance on the Thai relationship that Laos doesn’t have with its other neighbors.
When I first came to Laos in September 2001, Laos had not a single ATM in the country – I had to bring enough Thai Baht (the preferred currency of Lao despite having their own Lao Kip). At that time as well as when I returned four years later, Laos had no mobile phone service.
Those who could afford and wanted it bought Thai cell phones and went to the streets of Vientiane closest to the river to make calls on Thai carriers. A few people even bought special amplifying antennas for phones so they could receive calls in the middle of town. However, the river was lined with people making phone calls.
Today, Vientiane has many ATMs, mobile phone service, nicer cars, many new hotels and restaurants, a small shopping mall and a new, beautiful park along the Mekong. Despite that, it remains a sleepy town.
As Emily and I made our way around town, we saw no shortage of people napping – on walls, vehicles, the floors of their shops, and of course in their homes. By the river, people ate food and relaxed at the park.
“Where are all the tourists? Where’s all the stuff happening?” Emily kept asking.
It was Sunday and a lot of shops were closed – but still, Vientiane doesn’t have much more hustle or bustle on a weekday. It just has a lot of Buddhist wats and some nice cafes and bakeries (Laos has some great coffee).
“What do people come here for?”
“Well, a lot of people continue on to Luang Prabang (the former royal capitol), but mainly for the extreme sabai sabai (relaxation). Laos is remarkable because of how little goes on here.”
Vientiane is a beautiful city where the embassies outnumber the private office buildings. I imagine a diplomatic appointment to Laos is like a well-paid siesta for someone in the State Department or an ambassador who needs training wheels.
Basically, we’re here to listen to the Lao listen to the rice grow.
In the meantime, after a brief scare from some Internet that didn’t get along with my iPad at our very beautiful hotel, we found several of the main restaurants and cafes in town work just fine. We believe Laos has just enough technology to make this work.
Who knows, our angsty “baksida” (foreigner) ways may get the best of us and we’ll flee in boredom. Or, we might see some countryside over the weekend, enjoy the markets and local life during the week, and find our inner sabaidee.
Sent from my iPad
