Bounthanong - a caravan of Muang Lao

Sabaydii,

Here is the continuation of a series ‘Coming home’ entitled ‘Bounthanong – a Caravan of Muang Lao’

Hakphaang,
Kongkeo Saycocie

Bounthanong – a Caravan of Muang Lao

Took almost my whole stay in Vientiane
To find this friend of mine Bounthanong
A writer so sharp a tongue
The authorities had to rebuke him

It was said
Namely by Euay Dara
His writing so much infuriated
The information ministry he was under
That he was forced to resign
Both as a government employee
And as a president of the Lao Writer Association

This news took all the social conscious writers hard
And with his departure she saw an end
To the future of a once promising Lao writer
Of this high caliber

With some luck
And a persistent hunt
I found the bar
Bounthanogn owned
With his wife as a cook
By the ex-Soviet cultural center
At the start of Luangprabang road

Like Euay Dara told me
His bar was decorated with a cowboy sort of a logo
A far cry
From the day
He had nothing nice
To say about America

And inside
It was dimly lighted
As to reflect the mood of the bar
Catering to the a growing middle class

When I first entered
The one man band was still playing
A soft tuned American song
Solo with his guitar

Some young middle aged Lao
Sat eating and drinking at the table
Only one or two couple danced
At the small floor

As soon as Bounthanong saw
The like of me
He hadn’t seen for so long
He made a dash
From a table nearby

Like the old days
He hadn’t changed that much
Apart from some weight he gained
And a few grey hair

He greeted me
With a typical wide smile
And shook my hand
With such exuberance

The more he looked at me
The more it reminded me of Nga of Caravan
The Thai rebel songwriter and singer
With his curly hair
And a cigarette in his hand

After a few drinks
He poured fourth
His discontent with the present regime
At the injustice they incurred on people like him
At the widespread bribery and corruption
And at the direction
the country was dangerously moving towards

As they say
If you want to know
about the heartbeat of any country
talk to the writer
and so I did

Admitted
He was down
But don’t count him out yet

In one of his plans
He would turn one corner of this bar
Into a reading room
A showcase place for the aspiring writers

On a bigger scale
He would do the travel magazine
Called ‘Muong Lao’
To widen his knowledge of the country
Before making a triumphant come-back

I had trust in him
For the fire in him
Would never let him
Just disappear

With some songs he helped produce
And some books he once wrote
Thrust in my hand
We said a good bye
And hoped to see one another
In a better light
Next time around…

9.5.03

The other side of the fence

Sabaydii,

Here is the continuation of a series ‘Coming home’ entitled ‘The other side of the fence’

Hakphaang,
Kongkeo Saycocie

The other side of the fence

With the phone number
My brother gave me
Before taking a trip to Laos
I rang that number

A woman voice answered
My brother’s classmate
Now working with the Swedish agency
With a nice lucrative deal

Glad to hear from me
Whom she said she once met
She invited me for a dinner
At her home

It was nice of her indeed
To invite me
Whom she hardly knew
Better yet
She came to pick me up at the hotel
Herself

On the way to her home
Somewhere on the way past Wat ThatPhun
She related her story
Of where she had been

Graduated from a university in the Eastern Bloc
With an Economics degree
And now happily married to a son
Of the late Quinin Phonsena
A neutralist minister siding with the Pathet Lao

Maybe
Because of this connection
Her husband held a no less significant position
Likely on the way up to the minister post as well

When we got to her house
Her husband was still stuck in the meeting
Likely to be home
Some time before dinner was over

Would say
She had such a big house
Typical of the newly rich or on the way up
A maid was at her service
Taking care of the house
And raising her toddler daughter

Joining us at the dinner
Was her sister
A law professor
Not so sure of her role
in the new Laos would be

Only when we were half way done
Her husband did arrive

First I thought of sparing
Questions about politics
Wouldn’t it be nice
To do so as a guest anyway

Then with some encouragement
My brother’s friend insisted
Herself curious to know
What I thought of the new Laos

I then asked him
A link to the power-that-be
Why Laos was still lagging behind
After a quarter of a century
Of a new enlightened rule?

Wasn’t that Laos supposed to be
better off by now?

True to what got drilled into any cadres
He came out insisting
The country was much better than the old days
Just look at the statistics
In every field Laos was taking a giant leap

Unexpectedly
Coming to my help
Was my brother’s friend
She asked back
What statistics?
Was it the one from the World Bank?
Or was it from the regime own make-up?

Seeing that the couple had different political views
And with so intention of intensifying them further
I told her
I need to go home
And kindly invited them
Whenever they happen to come to the U.S.
Please drop by and see me

With a big relief
They somehow managed to drop me off
At the hotel

It would be a while
Before I dared to ask
Those kinds of questions
With the power-that-be
In paranoid Laos again

9.8.03