Evading Widgets
Whether you're an experienced business traveler or just a tourist, finding something special to take home from Laos for memory's sake can be a daunting chore. The key word is "special." Like most developing countries, Laos has a handicraft industry turning out all sorts of knickknacks. But such souvenirs often lose their appeal when spotted lined up in parallel rows on tabletops and shelves in stores on Samsenthai and Settathirath.
"What I'm actually looking for," said a traveler the other day in the Morning Market, "is something that nobody else already has. And it must be authentic. I don't want something that was stamped out like widgets."
Right. Looking for a solution, we visited a friend's home, someone who has lived in Vientiane for a number of years.
"Well, it's almost every tourist's dilemma," he said. "I've felt it myself. I still feel it. But I'm afraid we have mass tourism to thank for the production of souvenir widgets. Not the locals."
Looking around his house, several items struck our eyes. Naturally, first were the pictures hanging on the walls.
"You don't have to have a big budget in order to be able to afford Lao canvases," he said. "Some of the small pen and ink drawings were no more than 10 or 20 [US] dollars. A good pastel of a hilltribe girl can be had for 100 or 200 dollars. Good oils of local scenery are still available for 200 or 300 dollars. Buyers come from Chiang Mai, pick this stuff up at Vientiane prices, and march it straight back to Thailand where the asking price in a shop outside a 3- or 4-star hotel will be set at five times what I've paid for anything you see here."
We then discovered a box of envelopes and matching notepaper on a desktop. The "sketched" theme was architecture, especially old houses, French and Lao, that dot every Vientiane street.
"Like that?" he said. "You should. Very few people are aware that those particular designs belong to the gifted local artist who created the artwork that's on Lao paper money. Anybody can afford notepaper."
Next, from a closet shelf he pulled a pair of handwoven Akha bags. The Akha are a Lao minority group that live in the more remoter parts of mountainous Laos.
"These are really a find, especially in Vientiane. I bought them last year at the WIG (Women's International Group) Christmas bazaar. They're made of jute and have been dyed indigo. Cost? About 12 dollars apiece. They're buried in a closet for lack of use. Besides, they're too unusual to be used. They're art--these things took hours and hours to weave. But the Akha will stop making them as soon as they can get their hands on the mass-produced plastic bags that are everywhere in the lowland marketplaces."
Last, on a narrow shelf we noticed 14 small pieces of brass about the size of marbles. Each was hexagonal in shape.
"Even my Lao friends ask me where I found these. All but the three smallest ones were bought in Luang Prabang. I initially bought them as miniature paper weights. I get various stories. Some say they were used years ago as a means of counting--like one might use an abacus. Others say they represented, in various combinations, the price one was going to pay for a bride. These things sell for 1 to 6 dollars each. I'm not sure they're as rare as I thought they were. But they're certainly unusual--I'm told that Thai collectors, knowing what they are, occasionally come across the Mekong and buy them. To my surprise, the other day I found about 80 pieces among several shops in the Morning Market. However, they just might be the last 80."
We said maybe he should go back and buy them all.
"You can read my mind!" he exclaimed. He quickly added, "14 pieces make for a conversation piece. But I'm afraid having 80 would put them in the widget category."