By Julian von Rosen

Red is a colour associated with communism. So in December when I visited communist Laos in Southeast Asia to attend the launch of Bjorn Turmann’s new novel, The Karaoke World of Cortous Haire, I felt a surge of excitement when standing beside Lao comrades on freshly paved Vientiane streets as a new, red Ferrari (minus license plates) cruised past. Its engine purred to the sweet sounds of more development funds flowing into little brother Laos.

Over my keyboard’s tapping, I hear your surprised reactions. “A Ferrari? Isn’t Laos one of the world’s least developed countries?” Absolutely! According to the United Nations, it’s the 135th least developed.

News of Ferraris in Laos may surprise the past visitors to that landlocked country of six million inhabitants. It astonished me.

This is 21st-century Laos. Precisely 10 years ago, I first traveled to Vientiane, the capital city. Then the motorized transport extended to tuk-tuks, motorbikes, pickup trucks and a few antiquated Toyota Corollas roaming the dirt roads and pot-holed pathways.

Maybe it’s unfair to measure national progress by “auto consumption”. But it’s no secret that wealthy Asian consumers love their European cars, and now Vientiane has plenty of Mercedes, BMWs and Audis. Welcome to Laos 2007.

In the past decade, Vientiane has made some huge strides with the appearance of charming boutique hotels, top-class spas and impressive restaurants. When caught in occasional traffic jams, the drivers happily chat on their mobile phones, creating a scene more typical of Nong Khai, across the Friendship Bridge in Thailand.

Fortunately for frequent visitors, Vientiane maintains most of the rustic charms that make it alluring. It’s where you can sit under a shady tree, eat a toasted baguette sandwich, drink a fruit shake and watch the mighty Mekong River’s gentle flow.

Long-term residents hope that planned development won’t shatter what makes their city so pleasant, its pleasurable quiet. Few capital cities can match Vientiane’s easy-going manner and calming aesthetic.

More than just the Mekong deserves credit. To quote a clichéd phrase: you have to go there.

The sleepy quality prompts some tourists to call Vientiane “boring” as they push on to Luang Prabang, a beautifully preserved northern town and UNESCO World Heritage site. But is Vientiane still so boring? Perhaps my attendance at an international book-launch party would provide more clues about the “new Vientiane”.

Parties to celebrate new novels rarely, if ever, happen in Laos. Maybe the boredom-factor barometer has changed.

The Karaoke World of Cortous Haire has three settings: Singapore, Thailand and Laos. “Laos plays an important role,” said Turmann, a Canadian author who lives in Thailand. “It’s more than a destination for the protagonist. It’s a character he’s determined to know.”

The book launch attracted a diverse group keen to mingle and chat, encouraged that the fiction world had noticed Laos. An enthusiastic crowd gathered at The Spirit House, a riverside restaurant-bar on a dirt road soon to be paved too. This wasn’t a scene dominated by expatriates. I counted a near-perfect mix of locals and assorted foreigners.

“For me, this is a very proud day,” Turmann said. “Successfully launching The Karaoke World of Cortous Haire in Laos fulfils an important dream -- truly an honour.

“Like many people I know, I’ve had a long relationship with Laos, especially Vientiane. Seeing my book in its stores gives me a wonderful feeling. I hope for an even longer ‘literary relationship’ with this great country.

“Thanks to everyone who attended this launch party, and I hope the local readers, who embrace English fiction like never before, will enjoy the book.”

With its own fluorescent red cover that allegedly glows in the dark, The Karaoke World of Cortous Haire passed a rather rigorous approval process for distribution rights in Laos. This begs the question: does the communist government approve of red Ferraris speeding past trundling tuk-tuks?

The main roads in Vientiane are freshly paved, so the timing for the first Ferrari couldn’t be better. But toward what does Turmann’s novel pave the way? Ideally, it improves the prospects to sit under a shady tree by the Mekong while eating a toasted baguette sandwich, drinking a fruit shake and reading a good book.

Welcome to Laos 2007. It’s boring no more.

ARCHIVES

A roadside vendor sells baguettes,
nourishing the charm of Laos.


Seen from below a shady tree,
the Mekong River flows serenely.


Author Bjorn Turmann signs
a book for an admirer in Laos.