Lao PDR -- Please Don't Ruin (1)

PHOTO: JOHN MANGILA

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ve just been cleared to land at Wattay International Airport,” the Lao Airlines pilot announces in a relieved tone that suggests we’ve been circling for hours waiting for the 17 flights in front of us to touch down, in danger of running out of fuel and plunging in a ball of flames into a rice paddy.

In fact, QV 0415 from Bangkok, an antiquated Fokker affair, is the only flight to land in the past several hours. There are only 10 international arrivals a day.

Given this, one would assume ‘clearance’ would be a piece of cake. But things happen a lot slower in Laos – the Land of Shadows, Saffron and Smiles -- than in other countries. Or at least they used to.

Wattay Airport isn’t like other airports, with the possible exception of Dushanbe in Tajikistan, which is constructed entirely of aluminum foil and twigs.

It’s not unusual to arrive on the night flight to find the immigration and customs staff have not yet turned up, so patience is a virtue here.

I come to Vientiane once a month and have been doing so for the past four years.

It’s my second home: A respite from frenetic Bangkok, laid-back, at times somnolent and slow but always friendly.

That’s what draws me to it. Okay, okay, well that and a 6-foot-three strapping American-Hmong-Lao  man with gorgeously chiseled cheekbones, my sort of significant other.

I’m on a first name basis with the Visa on Arrival officials – Mr. Somphon, Miss Vath and Mr. Somphon Number 2.

It’s the only city in the world, I reckon, where you can take a tuk-tuk from the airport to downtown in approximately 6 minutes.

This tiny landlocked Communist nation – which incidentally remains the most heavily bombed country on earth, thanks the U.S. Secret War -- is known as Lao People’s Democratic Republic or Lao PDR, but locals and regular visitors joke it actually stands for “Please Don’t Rush.”

PHOTO: JOHN MANGILA

The capital Vientiane sits on the Mekong River, which dwindles to a trickle in the dry season. Aesthetically it’s not the most attractive city I’ve visited. And it can be challenging.

Journalist and author Christopher Kremmer in his book Bamboo Palace many years back described Vientiane as “a low-slung, balmy town cradled in a bend of the Mekong River, where the only tension was an intermittent struggle between the rising dust and the rising dampness in the air.”

The wonderful Irish travel writer Dervla Murphy in One Foot in Laos wrote:

“Vientiane’s charm is engendered by its population and its quirkiness.”

I love its quirkiness and its people.

I’ve taken many visiting friends to Vientiane, who after a few days, have overcome their "Oh my God what a hellhole" initial impression and warmed to its ‘unusual’ charm.

So I now have my share of converts, including famous ones such as: 

Multi-award winning ABC Australia Africa correspondent and former Mr. Squiggle host, Ginny Stein:

And talented photographer, artist and designer, John Mangila, whose blog:

http://atbloominglovely.blogspot.com/

Blooming Lovely is exquisite, among my favorites and is finally bringing him the attention he deserves.

But in the past 12 months, I’ve noticed that Laos is changing, and not for the better.

In fact, it’s in danger of becoming the Land of Shadows, Saffron and Cement and Please Don't Rush is quickly turning into Please Don't Ruin it.

The ramshackle lean-to bars where I used to sit, sipping a delicious Beer Lao watching a brilliant orange sunset across the Mekong have been razed to make way for a stark promenade. There are billboards everywhere advertising soon-to-be-built Chinese and Vietnamese monstrosities, and bus loads of ghastly, obese tourists are becoming a regular sight.

The government is quick to point out that this will help the economy and the people of Laos.

But there are a lot of “people of Laos’ who stand to lose – their homes, their livelihoods and their traditions, as you will find out in part 2.

Coming up:  Xayaburi: The Damming of the Mighty Mekong