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| JOMA Cafe |
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| Surfing the Web |
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Home Country Cook'n
After living in remote Tha Thom for two months without traveling outside the district we find ourselves craving western food. Although the food in Tha Thom always keeps us on our toes, the majority of the dishes leave us dreaming of a simple pizza, or warm loaf of bread…maybe even a taco salad! Of the more recent exotic delicacies small fried crab and seaweed soup top the list. Writing this blog from the comfort and familiarity of a western café in Vientiane, home really doesn’t seem that far away! Our cravings are being satisfied as I type this and we find ourselves thankful that Tha Thom doesn’t have western food. How much more we appreciate the cheese…oh the bread…the goodness of a person’s comfort foods.
JOMA is one such restaurant that we find refreshing during our time in Vientiane. BLTs, Rubens, Lasagna, taco salad and their assorted drinks are our favorites. Although much of the food available in this restaurant is western, the service is very Lao. On one occasion we returned from Tha Thom quite tired, but still craving some good “home country” cooking. We decided to try JOMA’s take-out option. After I ordered I took a seat and while I was waiting was served an ice cold glass of water. How many cafés in the US would do that?! In the Lao context this hospitality is expected upon entering anyone’s home and it appears has carried over even into ‘western’ businesses!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
A Random Entry
Five months ago we arrived in Tha Thom for the first time, by boat. Since then the river has dried up significantly, thus grounding any long distance boat travel. As we are in the dry season, dust is everywhere and trees are losing their leaves. It isn’t pretty like northern falls, but at times the cool nights and chilly mornings combined with the vivid blue of the sky almost remind us of the end of summer days.
With this change in season the sky is getting increasingly hazy as the hot season is ushered in. As one might expect the dust is somewhat to blame for the haze, but fires are another culprit. Farmers will traditionally burn the rice stubble from their fields and use slash and burn techniques in upland farming. The drying vegetation in the jungles is also reaching a perfect combustion point. The other day one of the largest mountains overlooking Tha Thom was encircled in a ring of burning forest. It looked eerie in the evening, almost resembling a glowing volcano. Villagers say that these fires occur every year, likely the result of hunter’s run away campfires. Our landlord also mentioned that unexploded bombs from the war will explode during these fires, although we have yet hear these booms.
Another contributor to the fine airborne dust continues to be the ongoing road construction. The road has undergone a massive transformation since we first arrived in Tha Thom. In fact this week the road through town received its first coat of tar! Travel to the nearest ‘large’ city (Paxan) is now fairly convenient, only 2 and a half hours by truck! This same journey was 6 hours by boat in the rainy season. Although the road is nearing completion two bridges still need to be constructed to allow for year round travel. The rivers swell significantly in the rainy season preventing a river crossing by truck (regardless of snorkel height).
As the road opens up, commerce and the diversity of things that we can purchase in Tha Thom continue to grow. We even purchased sour pork sausage from one vendor! Tha Thom also received its first billboard advertising a cell phone carrier.
Even though we can get many things we still have to be creative with our meals. Stir fry and other Lao dishes are simple enough to make with all ingredients available in town. However, to make anything Western many of the ingredients are hard to find. We restock our supplies with the help of visitors coming from Paxan and Vientiane. Things we took for granted in the US like, bread, flour, potatoes, oats, milk, cheese and butter, all must be brought from the larger cities. In an attempt to ration our flour store we began making ‘sticky-rice’ pancakes. They are still quite delicious and very filling. Kaarina cuts most of the flour and adds pre-steamed sticky rice. Peanut butter is also a scarcity and very expensive in the capital, however, peanuts are certainly not scarce in Tha Thom. So we also tried our hand at home made peanut butter. Although not entirely ‘creamy’ it does taste like the real thing. A water buffalo steak and potato meal also brought us back ‘home.’
A diversity of fruits also grace our table. A tree in the front of our home produces a fruit that looks similar to a guava, but has bright orange flesh and two or more oblong seeds. Our landlord brought over a bag for us to try. We both think it tastes exactly like a cooked pumpkin!
Another tree in our yard was recently wrapped in the traditional sihn. Our language helper explained that when a tree is flowering it is tradition to wrap a sihn around its trunk. This symbolizes fertility. Villagers believe that this practice will yield a good harvest.
Fruit and other forest and garden products can not only be purchased at the morning market, but also from ladies who tout various produce from house to house. As I was trying to find a chain to fit my bike at the local fix-anything-shop one of these women stopped by selling a greenish purple fruit from the forest. For 25 cents I purchased a half dozen. They have a white flesh and taste just like custard! Kaarina and I have also become fans of jack fruit and enjoyed some that was brought to us from Paxan.
Posted by Jeffrey
With this change in season the sky is getting increasingly hazy as the hot season is ushered in. As one might expect the dust is somewhat to blame for the haze, but fires are another culprit. Farmers will traditionally burn the rice stubble from their fields and use slash and burn techniques in upland farming. The drying vegetation in the jungles is also reaching a perfect combustion point. The other day one of the largest mountains overlooking Tha Thom was encircled in a ring of burning forest. It looked eerie in the evening, almost resembling a glowing volcano. Villagers say that these fires occur every year, likely the result of hunter’s run away campfires. Our landlord also mentioned that unexploded bombs from the war will explode during these fires, although we have yet hear these booms.
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| Ring of Fire |
As the road opens up, commerce and the diversity of things that we can purchase in Tha Thom continue to grow. We even purchased sour pork sausage from one vendor! Tha Thom also received its first billboard advertising a cell phone carrier.
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| Paved Road and Billboard |
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| Sticky Rice Pancakes |
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| (A Message Brought to you by Ovaltine and Skippy!) |
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| Steak and Potato Meal |
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| 'Pumpkin Fruit' |
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| Tree wearing a Skirt |
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| Purple Forest Fruit |
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tha Thom's One-and-Only
Shivering at the entrance of the That Thom market, wearing my blue sweatshirt and traditional sihn, I feel about as awkward as standing on a California beach wearing a bikini. Being the only female foreigner in town makes it difficult to ‘blend in’ no matter what I wear or try to say.
‘Where is Lamphoon?’ I kept thinking to myself. Jeffrey and I had finally moved into our new home, the kitchen was finished and I was excited to start cooking on my own. But the difficulty lay in the fact that the one and only fresh produce market in town is open for business from 4am to 7am. Being still new to the area, I wasn’t quite ready to attempt the market, with local dialect and prices, half asleep and by myself, which is why I had asked the MCC Housekeeper, Lamphoon, to help me out. In our three months in Tha Thom, she’s been a great companion, showing me how to make traditional Lao dishes, and teaching me new local vocabulary.
‘But where was she?’ I just came from the office, where I thought we were to meet, but it was as dead as the rest of town, except for the small bustling market in front of me.
A women’s voice jolts me out of my thoughts,
‘Jao seu pea leur?’
‘Ha?’
‘Jao seu pea leur?’
‘Eu… Khoy seu Nalie.’ (My name is Nalie.)
She smiles and walks off, but the quizzical expression on her face makes me think I didn’t quite answer that one correctly. Why does this language have so many words that sound the same! ‘Seu’ said by inflecting the voice downwards means, ‘to buy,’ but ‘seu’ said by holding the voice flat means ‘name.’
Watching the woman disappear into the morning darkness, I realized that she actually was asking me what I had come to the market to buy, not what my name was, and I in my blumbering ‘pasa Lao’ told her I was going to buy myself!
‘Well, I’ve been standing at the entrance of the market for 15 min now, waiting for Lamphoon who didn’t seem to be coming, I’d already tried asking some women at the market if they’d seen Lamphoon today, but they hadn’t… I think it’s time to do something!’ I decided to give it a try ‘pu de-ow’ (by myself) and dove into the marketplace.
Shopping at a Lao market is an adventure in itself. Being part of a friendly, non-confrontational or pushy culture, the Lao market mirrors the people exactly. Oftentimes while shopping in the Capital, I will have to wake up the Lao shopkeeper to ask a price or buy something. Bartering seems to be more of a friendly conversation, then actually trying to get a killer price. Though common in the cities, I’ve hardly used it in the country. Here in Tha Thom shopkeepers usually give the rock bottom price, and I’m not too concerned about getting ripped off.
Walking through the market, I observe all the tables with neat little piles of mint, basil, chili peppers, forest flowers and other garden produce. There are also large piles of cabbages and pak choy. Some vendors are also selling baked goods such as fried fish and deep fried rice donuts. The market’s meat section consists of a single table, on which is heaped whatever animal was slaughtered the day before. There’s not much choice on the cut you would like, just poke around the pile and find something that looks good! Fish is also available at the market, though you have to arrive early to find it; once they’re sold out that’s it for the day.
‘Hmm… what to buy!’ I chose some cilantro, chili peppers and green onions. Buying is actually easier than I had thought, due to the fact that most produce is piled or bundled into neat little bunches, and each is 1,000 kip (about 12 cents). There isn’t much for fruit at the market, but I spy some nice bananas and buy them. I also buy some fried fish, a bit more expensive at 5,000 kip per kilo, but they would make a nice breakfast.
In a few minutes, I leave the market, my arms full of bags of produce, meat and fried fish. It’s a satisfying feeling to be able to have a simple conversation with the Lao vendors and to feel like, ‘Hey, I can do this!’ I hum a tune as I walk down the road to pick up my bike at the MCC office, not feeling half as awkward as I had in my sweatshirt and sihn. Returning to the office, I hear rustling in the kitchen and Lamphoon pokes her head out. I show her the things I had bought and she shares that she slept in this morning.
As she gathers her things to head out to the market she asks,
‘Bai ek bo?’ (Well, do you want to go again?)
I look at my cell phone, its only 5 am! What a morning! I’ve already conquered the market once this morning, why not do it again!
‘Bai ga dai!’ (Sure!)
Posted by Kaarina
‘Where is Lamphoon?’ I kept thinking to myself. Jeffrey and I had finally moved into our new home, the kitchen was finished and I was excited to start cooking on my own. But the difficulty lay in the fact that the one and only fresh produce market in town is open for business from 4am to 7am. Being still new to the area, I wasn’t quite ready to attempt the market, with local dialect and prices, half asleep and by myself, which is why I had asked the MCC Housekeeper, Lamphoon, to help me out. In our three months in Tha Thom, she’s been a great companion, showing me how to make traditional Lao dishes, and teaching me new local vocabulary.
‘But where was she?’ I just came from the office, where I thought we were to meet, but it was as dead as the rest of town, except for the small bustling market in front of me.
A women’s voice jolts me out of my thoughts,
‘Jao seu pea leur?’
‘Ha?’
‘Jao seu pea leur?’
‘Eu… Khoy seu Nalie.’ (My name is Nalie.)
She smiles and walks off, but the quizzical expression on her face makes me think I didn’t quite answer that one correctly. Why does this language have so many words that sound the same! ‘Seu’ said by inflecting the voice downwards means, ‘to buy,’ but ‘seu’ said by holding the voice flat means ‘name.’
Watching the woman disappear into the morning darkness, I realized that she actually was asking me what I had come to the market to buy, not what my name was, and I in my blumbering ‘pasa Lao’ told her I was going to buy myself!
‘Well, I’ve been standing at the entrance of the market for 15 min now, waiting for Lamphoon who didn’t seem to be coming, I’d already tried asking some women at the market if they’d seen Lamphoon today, but they hadn’t… I think it’s time to do something!’ I decided to give it a try ‘pu de-ow’ (by myself) and dove into the marketplace.
Shopping at a Lao market is an adventure in itself. Being part of a friendly, non-confrontational or pushy culture, the Lao market mirrors the people exactly. Oftentimes while shopping in the Capital, I will have to wake up the Lao shopkeeper to ask a price or buy something. Bartering seems to be more of a friendly conversation, then actually trying to get a killer price. Though common in the cities, I’ve hardly used it in the country. Here in Tha Thom shopkeepers usually give the rock bottom price, and I’m not too concerned about getting ripped off.
Walking through the market, I observe all the tables with neat little piles of mint, basil, chili peppers, forest flowers and other garden produce. There are also large piles of cabbages and pak choy. Some vendors are also selling baked goods such as fried fish and deep fried rice donuts. The market’s meat section consists of a single table, on which is heaped whatever animal was slaughtered the day before. There’s not much choice on the cut you would like, just poke around the pile and find something that looks good! Fish is also available at the market, though you have to arrive early to find it; once they’re sold out that’s it for the day.
‘Hmm… what to buy!’ I chose some cilantro, chili peppers and green onions. Buying is actually easier than I had thought, due to the fact that most produce is piled or bundled into neat little bunches, and each is 1,000 kip (about 12 cents). There isn’t much for fruit at the market, but I spy some nice bananas and buy them. I also buy some fried fish, a bit more expensive at 5,000 kip per kilo, but they would make a nice breakfast.
In a few minutes, I leave the market, my arms full of bags of produce, meat and fried fish. It’s a satisfying feeling to be able to have a simple conversation with the Lao vendors and to feel like, ‘Hey, I can do this!’ I hum a tune as I walk down the road to pick up my bike at the MCC office, not feeling half as awkward as I had in my sweatshirt and sihn. Returning to the office, I hear rustling in the kitchen and Lamphoon pokes her head out. I show her the things I had bought and she shares that she slept in this morning.
As she gathers her things to head out to the market she asks,
‘Bai ek bo?’ (Well, do you want to go again?)
I look at my cell phone, its only 5 am! What a morning! I’ve already conquered the market once this morning, why not do it again!
‘Bai ga dai!’ (Sure!)
Posted by Kaarina
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