I Have Arrived  (it seems in more ways than one)

My scant 30 minute flight (thought it would be longer) arrived in Vientiane at 2 pm this afternoon.  Sometimes things go just right for a veteran independent traveler (and sometimes nothing goes right).  Within 30 minutes on the ground I had taxied to my hotel, checked in, scoped out the cooking class offered by the hotel (too rudimentary), got a city map, directions to the Full Moon Café, and was off).  I had contacted the Café earlier by email and they told me to stop in the afternoon to book space in a cooking class.

Then I spent the next 30 minutes going in the wrong direction from my hotel and turned a twenty minute walk to the cafe into an hour long trek in high nineties temp.  In fact the last time I remember being in such hot and humid weather it was in Australia somewhere well above Sydney near the Great Barrier Reef.

But, at last, the Full Moon Café came into view.  I checked with a waiter and then the young woman behind the cash register about their cooking class.  It was full tomorrow but open the next day.  I asked about what dishes they fixed in the class and she became confused because of her limited English and my nonexistent Lao.  Just then by happenstance an English speaking, actually Englishwoman, came to meet me. 

It turns out she is teaching English at the International School here and is working with the restaurant to help them develop the cooking school.  I asked what they fixed in the classes and explained the reason I was asking was because I had already prepared a number of Lao dishes in other classes. 

She asked which dishes.  I began my recitation with the more complicated ones and worked downward.  Half way through she said “no need to take the class because I was far above what they taught to prepare”.  In fact, from her reaction to the dishes I had learned in my lessons, I thought she wanted to bestow the Lao Cordon Bleu on me.

It appears the next level for me is to find a private cooking lesson.  Or, another option is to explore the best restaurants – both Lao and French for the next few days and leave the cooking to someone else.

I told her I was disappointed that I would not be taking the class and asked her if she would recommend some very good French and Lao restaurants.  She did.  Then she said that I looked like I was an adventurous eater (what? Do I have a sign on my back?).  She recommended that I eat some varieties of street food from stalls on this particular street in the evening.  I thanked her for her help, ordered a big bottle of beer (and a bottle of water too) and proceeded to work my way through the suds.

A few minutes later I found myself in conversation with a couple at an adjoining table.  He is from the States living in Thailand with his Thai wife who is some 3or 4 decades younger.  It turns out he and I were both born in November 1941 and he is 9 days my senior.

He and I chatted for a half hour or so about food and life in SE Asia.  Somewhere in there he told me about Restaurant Joma which was nearby and sold, among other things a mean Reuben. 

They left so the wife could buy some material at a nearby store.  I finished my beer, took my water with me, and you guessed it.  A half hour later I was eating my first meal in Vientiane – lean corned beef, sauerkraut, and Russian dressing on delicious dark bread, no less.