The End of the Cold War and the Rise of Global Business in Europe
With the end of the Cold War (or so it seemed at the time), the opportunity existed to put together a May Term trip for 2002 that spanned the European continent. This is what we promised:
In his impressive book on the Lexus and the Olive Tree, Thomas Friedman contrasts the conditions surrounding the cold war with those of the current global age, both politically and economically.
Students who select “The End of the Cold War and the Rise of Global Business in Europe” will visit countries and companies to see the results of the globalization on both sides of what was once the Iron Curtain. The trip will take students to London and Paris (both of which conducted “Global Business” in their colonial empires), then to Berlin, which was literally at the center of the Cold War. Prague and Budapest, both centers of European culture that slipped behind the Iron Curtain for nearly half a century, will be visited. The tour will then go to two major cities in Russia—Moscow and St. Petersburg.
We will be visiting both American and foreign companies in these countries, as well as sampling their historical flavor, using the framework of Friedman’s book.
While Carolyn was willing to sacrifice me in Siem Reap, she did join me in Bangkok after I survived for an anniversary tour, our 35th, from Bangkok to Singapore. The object was to swathe ourselves in luxury hotels, and learn more about these fascinating countries.
Our self-indulgence started in Bangkok at one of the premier hotels. I believe it was the Oriental, whose 150 years of celebrity attraction now included Fred and Carolyn Hoyt. Our trip included the highlights of Bangkok, especially (for me) Ayudhya and its splendid ruins.
We boarded a train that took us down Thailand, to Hua Hin, where we spent a night at the “Railway Hotel,” another on the “must stops” on the tour of the peninsula.
At the border, we were greeted by a driver, who would show us the superhighways and byways of Malaysia, a country whose mix of progressive Islam and Chinese cultures made it one of the most enjoyable discoveries for me of Southeast Asia. It was a great start that our first stop was in Pulau Penang, one of the cities that I’d “discovered” with David as primarily Chinese (the Straits Settlements) dominant. The area housed one of the extensive business hubs on the country, and I would soon get to visit Dell and other operations attracted by low wages, a favorable business environment, and an educated work force.
Not coincidentally, our arrival coincided with the reopening of the refurbished Sarkie Brothers Hotel, the Eastern and Oriental, on the Gulf of Thailand. I could sit there dreamily considering retiring to a bungalow facing the Gulf with my xiao lao po.
The trip took us via superhighway to one of the inland cities, I think Ipoh, a city whose charm (i.e., history and appearance) resembles George Town (Penang). Small shops, Chinese influence.
The trip continued through Malacca and Kuala Lumpur, with a visit I remember to a rubber plantation, where our Hindu guide’s grandfather had worked as a cook. Typical British mix of Chinese, Malay and Indian. He also told us when he married a Malay, he had to raise his children as Muslim.
The crown jewel in this nostalgia trip to the past, of course, was an overnight or two at the Raffles Hotel in Singapore.
Imitating the rich and famous is certainly fun, but I’ll get Carolyn to Siem Reap in the future!
When “they” left (I paid their departure tax and made sure they left, along with my colleague Ruth Ann), I took a small plane to Siem Reap (which means Siam destroyed–that whole area, my son pointed out, is the Balkans of Asia. Whoever has power destroys those who don’t, until those who don’t, do, and they return the favor), for a visit to Angkor Wat.
I was overwhelmed.
I now understand Bangkok (and much of the rest of South and Southeast Asia), because to be a ruler there means being like the Khmer empire (just as being an emperor in East Asia means temple of Heaven, Confucius, and a writing system that has no relevance to your pronunciation!).
Three days of highlights:
1) The Grand Hotel d’Angkor (after “they” left, I got used to the wondrously expensive restored hotels that I would have stayed in had I been the rich imperialist I crave being!). The Raffles chain got ahold of it and put it back in splendor. In a poverty stricken country, $300 a night is luxurious! Because I was in the jungle (at least temperature wise), my guide and driver dropped me at the hotel from 11-2. I could lounge in the pool (I did, reading a book on Angkor) (only one day making the mistake of standing talking with someone after a swim; sunburn city), take a sauna (only slightly hotter than the outside, but still a treat), or get a massage (a real one!). At 2 they’d pick me up and take me to some spectacular place I’d never been before. And in the evening, the usual Ramayana dancing so typical of the Khmer/Hindu influenced regions.
Question: how can a poor country like Cambodia stage events so much nicer than India. I digress! And an occasional Havana.
Even better, one morning (6 am) they had a Buddhist monk teach meditation. I can still remember him (in translation) telling me to think only of the air (breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth). It helps whenever I get tense. And believe me, I didn’t realize how tense this place makes me until I got back!
Not until the last day did I realize how close the hotel was to the old City. Still lots of old colonial architecture, some bars, and many places selling the same trinkets. Food paled compared to the Rex, but Viet Nam was THE French colony in Asia. Cambodia, I think, was a protectorate.
2) The temples were overwhelming. Four in particular. Angkor Wat is awesome in size, setting, and splendor (only the Gods had stone buildings, so only the Godlike places are left). The pictures don’t do it justice, and I was awed by the sculptures on the walls, which had the story of Good Versus Evil (Ramayana again) and the monkey king, and the history of the regime. The second is Bayon, built by Jayavarman VII (easy for me to say!), with the haunting four heads that are one of the most well-known pictures of Angkor. I finally found a sculpture (typical of Cambodia, I found it in a workshop for the homeless because of minefields!) that captured it (22 pounds; it cost 2x as much to ship as to purchase). Third was the one that they left jungle-like. The jungle always wins, given enough time! Finally, Banteay Srei, which has the most marvelous sculptures (or did!). We came to one place and my guide said, “There was a head on that statue last week.” One thing I would have done differently was to spend a day in Phnom Penh at the National museum. Some of the statues are there, replaced with virtually similar reproductions.
3) Two and a half days were probably enough. The area is huge. It must have been a wondrous city in its heyday. Cambodia, today, though, is a mess. As I mentioned, we went to three or four places that had been mine fielded (if that’s a word). Unlike Laos, they did much of it to themselves (and still are doing some damage; a bomb blew up last week in Phnom Penh). But it was a lot safer than Carolyn thought it would be when she was willing to sacrifice me…..now to convince her to come with me.
4) I took seven rolls of film with the kids–and eight rolls in three days at Angkor!
For me, London was kind of neat, even though we were only there 2 days (we were only every 2 days, except Saigon!). I think we are going to visit next spring break because it’s “only” seven hours away! I hadn’t been there before.
I enjoyed their anguish in India. It is an acquired taste, and has changed far less than I had hoped. We sat with a brilliant economist in an enclave in Delhi. His comment: “Infrastructure doesn’t matter.” I thought about that for much of the trip, especially in countries that had it. It matters if quality of life matters! He had to breathe that air and navigate through the hordes. India may well be the most photogenic country in the world (I love the colors!), but it is still the least habitable. When we were there in 1997, we were with a private car and there were three of us. With a tour bus, the hordes descended on us, and my Bloomington students got to see things they only read about in books. But to have seen the Taj not once, but twice…. And I loved Indian foods (which were “too spicy” for some of my students; others got “Delhi belly” and did not eat foreign foods the rest of the trip). One came in and said, “Hoyt, we gotta talk about my bowel movements.” “What’s the problem?” “They’re different. They come every hour.” “Are they solid?” “Yes.” “Don’t worry. I’ll bet they’re even a different color!” “How did you know!”
They were glad to escape India, but many of them, soured by the experience of “differentness” stuck close to the familiar. As my colleague and I wondered, “why are 2 59 year olds, who’ve been to many of these places, more adventurous than 20 year olds who have not?”
sunset in Bali
Bali is an awesome place. One of my crappy colleagues, who fancies himself an expert on Indonesia, spread the rumor that Indonesia would be unsafe and wasn’t Fred concerned? I found out about it second (and third) hand–from students taking my trip who he’d said this to in class (class act). We monitored the situation, and while Jakarta and Aceh, etc. are volatile, Bali’s biggest problem is too many tourists. We stayed at an elegant beach resort (Intercontinental) that brought me back into favor. But offered a chance to explore the island and its unique culture or staying poolside, 12 of them opted for poolside (it was the only opportunity they had to turn down a cultural or site visit!).
In the evening, we had the opportunity to go to a village for a program. When we got there, there was no electricity in the village, and we were the only audience. As they led us into the theater, with torches, I thought–“Order of the Arrow.” Ruth Ann and I had seen the dance before–the battle between good and evil, that ended with the actors throwing fire at each other.
Before the show, two of the boys, who had stayed at the pool drinking (and were drunk) got into their 14 year old modes when told they had to attend the cecek dance. Quivering lower lip (that I see so often with my scouts) and the “you can’t make me attitude”…my response was yes I can and I will. Actually,one sheepishly came by the next day and said, “Thank you for making me go.” I told him that if I really wanted to punish him, I’d have told him he needn’t go. Scoutmastering comes in handy.
infrastructure was questionable. We had to get out of the bus crossing this bridge, just in case
They enjoyed HCMC, but I keep forgetting that for them the Viet Nam war is “history.” We spent four days in Saigon (the longest anywhere, and just about the right amount of time), with tours of the delta, etc. Our guide was an ARVN lieutenant (which gave a different perspective; he hates the north and is about to evacuate to the US, one of the true victims of the Vietnam War; in Cu Chi, he showed us where he got his scar). It is sobering for Americans to go through the war museum. My colleague was offended by its propaganda value, but as I noted, it’s great to go somewhere where pc means something different–and besides, they won! The food was great (students liked the Italian restaurant). Breakfast at the Rex set the bar too high for the rest of the trip: Choice of any or all of the following–pho, miso (the empire of Japan was out in force), four types of cereal, eggs and bacon, pancakes, dumplings, wondrous spread of fruit–jackfruit, mango, etc., and the piece de resistance, baguette, pate, and ham and cheese. One of my self-described “picky” eaters had a hard time with this. She said she could eat either ham or cheese but not both on the same plate.
Ironically, my trip around the world with students was just before 9/11, which closed much of the flat world. I was inspired by Brian Engelland, a fellow marketing academic, who had done something similar when he’d been in business. It was ambitious. London was our first stop, and I had not been there before. I realized it was an easy trip across the Pond (and subsequently did some long weekend conferences in England). Students loved the England part—the plays (Shakespeare in 90 minutes), the soccer atmosphere (they partied after a Man U game), and the general familiarity of being in the English-speaking world.
The euphoria lasted until we got to India—105 degrees at midnight and we were at 3000 feet- a different world. I am not sure they came out of the hotel to drink, and they worried about the new foods and smells.
Viet Nam provided some relief—Pringles were available. I loved staying at the un-gentrified Rex, as had the journalists during the American War. I remember the incredible breakfast, that nodded to the wondrous tastes around the world–Japanese, Chinese, French (jambon and baguettes), incredible fruits (no durian, however). In Bali, the poolside bar allowed some students to avoid the tour of the Hindu-based island in the largest Muslim country in the world. In India, we had a great visit with Sambit in Delhi-—in a gated community that lost power periodically and had its own generator. Quality of life? How much do you tip? That got a discussion of wages around the world. Satisfying if exhausting.
We got really familiar with Bangkok–or was it just the airport hotel. Flying Thai Air meant going through Bangkok once we arrived in Asia. When we left Hong Kong, it was to fly back to Bangkok and then to the United States. But there is proof we did go to the city.
I followed it up with a stay at Siem Reap. Carolyn assured me if I survived, she would consider going to Angkor Wat. (At the time, bandits roved in Cambodia, seeking, ransom victims, which I hoped did not included IWU faculty members). That will be a separate entry.
While Carolyn joined me at the end of the Technos trip, it was to enable us to explore old Japan and old Korea.
By old Japan, I had in mind Kyoto and Nara, where World War II had not flattened the buildings or firebombed them, partly because Secretary of War Henry Stimson had honeymooned there. Tourists ought to sing his praises.
While Nintendo claims Kyoto as its headquarters, it is better known for having been the capital of Japan from 794 until 1869. Known as Heian, it exudes charm, with the Kyoto palace buttressed by several Buddhist shrines. It has an older section of the city which was where “Memories of a Geisha” was filmed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where we stayed.
Talk about “customer service.” With kimonos in our room, we were transported back in time to greater luxury and ambience. One evening, three meals, two treasures the cost, and worth it. Ryokan is the category.
If the city resembles a Tang dynasty capital–Chang’an (Xi’an) or Luoyang, it’s no accident. the “peaceful capital” (Heian) was modeled after those imperial cities. Isn’t that what it meant to be an emperor in Asia, even in the land where the sun comes up? (Nihon).
Nara provided an 80-year prelude as the first capital of Japan, which later moved to Kyoto where it remained for a thousand years. Again, I felt we were in Tang China, which provided the feng shui for the layout of the city. It still houses 8 UNESCO heritage sites, but one of the unusual features is the deer park, which ecompasses the temples and shrines. It also protects the tiny deer.
The Todaji temple is the world’s largest wooden building. Fittingly, Kyoto’s sister cities include Xi’an and Kyongju.
As part of our tour of Tang China’s imitators, I wanted to take Carolyn to Kyongju, at one time the fourth largest city in the world. It was the capital of the Silla Kingdom from 57 BC until 935 AD. I’d been to the “museum without walls,” but couldn’t get enough of its ancient splendor. The peak was the 7-9th century when the Silla ruled most of the Korean peninsula.
Today, historic buildings such as the Bulguksa (Buddhist) temple, the observatory, the bell, and the mostly un-excavated mounds evoke a splendid past. The museum has some artifacts, too.
The Buddha in the cave (Seokguram) is the most beautiful buddha I have ever seen.
The one disappointment I had was that when I had been in Korea in 1997, it was during the cherry blossom time. Gumi, our base then, was resplendent white. When Carolyn and I went through it on the train to Kyongju, all we saw was a naked industrial city.
To her great surprise, Carolyn enjoyed the food, even the seafood. She is educable.
One of the strongest connections of IWU with Asia was with the Technos Institute of Tokyo. Minor Myers hit it off with the head of Technos,
The other facultyThe IWU contingent
Kenji Tanaka, who founded a basically vocational college (mostly tourism), and shared some of Minor’s quirkiness. Tanaka originally had a downtown campus, which he sold before the real estate bubble burst, and rebuilt the campus elsewhere. As I understand it, the now -wealthier Tanaka funded five universities (one in New Zealand) to send faculty and students for a cultural exchange in Tokyo. Minor became part of it at Hobart and Smith, one of the other colleges, and brought that connection with him when he came to Illinois Wesleyan University. It was one of the best perks I had at IWU.
As a member of, and sometimes head of, the Asian Studies Committee at IWU, I was qualified to lead a trip. I was also in a position to choose the candidates among the sophomore students, and my goal was to ensure that one of them would be from Business Administration. That had never happened before at IWU. One of the other faculty pushed a student who. when she saw fish, went, “Ew, fish.” She found being a vegetarian avoided that potential cultural conflict, and thus missed some of the best foods on the trip.
The format was that we would be flown to Tokyo and all our expenses would be covered. Given how expensive Japan was, that was useful. We had a $50 voucher one night and it bought a hamburger and a coke. We stayed in different neighborhoods, which gave us a sense of the size if not diversity of Tokyo. As I recall, early on, we had a tremor, learning what the “rim of fire” was about.
Technos was a school focusing mostly on tourism, and one of the real treats we enjoyed was at a resort maintained in the mountains, with a hot pool in the mornings where we could sit watching the sun come up. It provided training to the Technos students, and joy to the guests.
Three other memories remain in my mind: the first was the Tuna market (I think it moved in 2018), where enormous Tuna were bought and sold. The most expensive went for $3 million. Charlie the Tuna would have been as astonished as I was to see the activity in the wee hours of the morning.
The second was Japanese baseball. I did not realize the teams were corporately owned. That is, the Tokyo Giants were part of the Yomiuri newspaper and television empire. Equivalent to the Yankees, the Giants are the oldest professional team in Japan and one of the most successful (22 championships). Their games were in the Tokyo Dome, starting at 6 pm. That start time allowed the salarymen to come straight from work in their suits with briefcases. As you might expect from a Japanese crowd, the cheering was orchestrated and the audience followed the cheerleaders. Food was exceptional: bento instead of hot dog, with beer distributed via something like a fire extinguisher. It was great fun.
The third was a stay in a small town that looked like (and probably was) a locale for pictures of early Japan. Small shops, small buildings.
I should note that not only did faculty choose students, but many activities split faculty and students. It wasn’t like May Term–babysitting, guide, guardian, warden, whatever was required. It was a real reward!
Mrs. Hoyt joined me afterwards for Kyoto and Nara to be reported later.
In 1999, David joined me for an “after May Term trip” to explore western China. It was shortly after US planes bombed the Chinese embassy in Belgrade, and tensions between the two countries was high. I remember Dr. Jin constantly on the phone to his friends in China, debating whether we ought to proceed to China given the anti-American protests. Having learned how to say, “Ottawa is wonderful this time of year” (everyone loves Canadians), we proceeded to finish the trip in the Middle Kingdom.
When the group left, David—who’d joined us in Beijing—and I boarded a train that took us to Xi’an and eventually into Xinjiang. In Xi’an we had some visits to new sites—for example the tomb of the Empress Wu, the lone female emperor of China. As we went west, we encountered more Chinese named Muhammad,
Former Russian Consulate (now a guest house where I stayed)the mosque in Kashgar
Two kinds of time
Mogao cave art
or who had beards. There were stunning mosques, and ruins of previous cities along the old Silk Road. Underground aqueducts nourished crops in the desert, as they had in ancient times.
The Mogao caves at the entrance to the Taklimakan desert preserved Buddhist art from the 4th thru 14th centuries, scarred by Muslim invaders and Red Guards, but still magnificent. Dunhuang also offered camel rides, which gave one a feel for the enormity of “land travel” in ancient times. Grateful merchants had had the grottoes filled with paintings, either grateful for a successful passage, or in hopes of propitiating the gods and having a good trip.
I remember Urumqi as an armed camp, with prominent Liberation Army troops in the streets, and in trucks; the locals had their own idea of what “liberation” meant, bombing busses occasionally. Kashgar stimulated me to read about “the Great Game”—the clash between the British Lion and the Russian Bear for India. Kashgar was one of those flashpoints, where the Russian Consul (whose compound included our guesthouse) had a private army. Inspired, I wanted to cross the Pamirs into Pakistan and Afghanistan….but even then, disturbed and disturbing countries. We visited ruins in Xinjiangat Gaochang and Jiaohe, and the Bezeklik Caves, which the Russians pilfered in the Great Game days and brought back to the Hermitage. “I know what wall those came from,” I said when I saw them in St. Petersburg. We also toured the TianShan mountains and rode horses to look at snow-capped peaks. We were really in the Wild West.
Interestingly, China is one time zone, at least government offices think so. They run on Beijing time. The rest of Xinjiang thinks local time makes more sense. It is certainly “different.”
The trip was fairly standard for me by now. South East Asia, working our way to China, with a Yangtze cruise, ending up in Beijing. One thing Brad Hannam and I did was to cross the border into Malaysia for a look at the palace of the richest man in the world (at one time), the Sultan of Johore. His outrageous behavior led the British to station a “minder” in Johore. What I remember most about the palace was his use of elephant legs as waste baskets and umbrella holders. But we did get a stamp for Malaysia in our passports, which was an added benefit.
Li was our China guide twice
The other “different” event was a monkey wrench thrown on May 7, 1999, when we received news that the US had “accidentally” bombed the Chinese embassy in Belgrade, and that anti-American protests had erupted in response in the China. With the safety of our charges in mind, Dr. Jin spent a lot of time contacting his friends in China to make sure we would not be endangered. We cautiously entered China, prompting our students to downplay their American identity (e.g., no Cubs shirts). At times it was tense, and we were known to say, “Ottawa is lovely this time of year.”
The only place I caught some flak was in Xi’an, on my extended trip. When I got a haircut, the barber talked about bad Americans. I told him, in Chinese, I was in China to see where my dad had fought for China against the Japanese. That put paid to that discussion.
With Omar at CargillBund from Broadway Mansions where we were housed
We were lucky enough to connect with two of our alumni–at opposite ends of the expat spectrum–in Shanghai. One was Omar Sadeque, son of a Pakistani diplomat, who had gone to Baylor for an MBA. Hired by Cargill, at this point in his 20s, Cargill gave him $25 million to establish a chicken processing plant. He hosted our class and talked about his career and his opportunity. At the other end was Tuan Nguyen, who had come to China with me in 1995 as his last class at IWU before his January graduation; Tuan was so smitten by China that he resigned the job he had lined up and went to China to take his chances. When we met him, he was married to a Chinese woman and living a la Chinese. Omar, by contrast, lived in a gated community with a driver, a cook, and several servants.
We also managed to visit a number of business sites: Ringsit contract manufacturers of running shoes in Bangkok, Caterpillar Logistics in Singapore, always a treat given Cat’s insistence of supplying parts anywhere in the world in 48 hours, City University in Hong Kong, with my friend Eleanor, and Omar’s plant in Shanghai.
Stillwell
And we did the sites as well, including the Yangtze cruise, with a stop in Chungking at a museum featuring Vinegar Joe Stillwell, Chiang Kai-shek’s World War II nemesis. And we had time to eat. In those days, I built the meals into the trip, realizing hygiene was not always a consideration, especially in China. Later, when I realized students preferred Mickey Ds to dim sum, I set one banquet per city–so I could eat real Chinese instead of watered down French Fries. But not before we had snake wine. I insisted on having the reptile brought to the table where the venturesome sat, and prepared for us–bile in alcohol, among other things.
And Deng Xiao-ping said, “To be rich is glorious,” but a sign reminded us ….so true…
International Conference and Laos (Reminiscences 2025)
During the 1990s especially, I tried to combine my interest in marketing with my avocational interest in Scouting. That resulted in my seeking Scout contacts and buying Scout souvenirs. My troop usually had foreign neckerchief slides, for example, and frequently foreign Scout patrol patches. We had two iterations of Red Back Spiders (Australia’s contribution; second deadliest) and the Ferkana Patrol (Turtle in Maltese), and frequently used the more colorful Canadian patrol patches. I was most enamored of the Macanese epaulets for leaders, and for years used them in place of the (boring) red epaulets that were official BSA. The uniforms and neckerchiefs I bought contributed to several camporee exhibits. Mrs. Hoyt and I parleyed a visit to a world camporee into a visit to Angkor Wat.
One of the highlights was definitely attendance at the Asia Pacific Conference in 1998. It was meant to highlight Hong Kong Scouting after the handover. In the run up to 1997, Hong Kong Scouting had purchased a lot in central Hong Kong and built a multipurpose building: Scout office, hotel, and offices, probably to maintain funding because of the uncertainty of finances after 1997.
Behind me was Kai Tak, the most exciting airport in the world
I had enough contacts to get myself invited as a member of the US Delegation, with the rank of “International Commissioner” from the W.D. Boyce Council. It was obvious I was outside the circle of professionals and niche volunteers, but it got me to Hong Kong for a wonderful conference that helped me understand why Baden Powell resigned from the British army after World War I and thought Scouts could be a force for peace. Here’s what I remember—more than a quarter of a century later.
First, there were giggles about US Scouting. Part of it was for its top-heavy use of professionals. Volunteers, even at the highest level, ran many Scout national organizations. I met some of them. Another giggle came from what the other organizations referred to as the 3 gs—God, Girls, and Gays. Most other organizations, even then, were coed. While there might be separate religious-based national organizations, we had an interfaith service that was genuinely religious and genuinely inclusive. What a change from the traditional BSA (at best) non-denominational service!
Second, it was an adult gathering, and adults were treated like adults. We were broken out into subgroups for some of our meals. I remember sitting with the Head of Singapore Scouting (volunteer), his Australian counterpart (also a volunteer) for a potluck. Not mac and cheese or hot dogs, but dim sum and other Asia dishes. And there were adult beverages served. It was the best fraternity party I can remember since college.
Hong Kong Scouting was at its finest. While most uniforms were Scout-like (based on the Great War uniforms of BP), I doubt BP would have objected to the formal tailor-made uniforms that distinguished our hosts. I was glad to have been invited to participate, and to look at HK a year after the handover.
It was also an excuse to bring David, and depart Hong Kong for an introduction to another part of the former French Indo-china: Laos.
Once a prosperous and large kingdom (the Land of a Million Elephants), Laos today is one of the poorest countries we visited. Its distinctive houses on stilts allowed the family to live above possible floods, but, equally important, made for animal or car storage underneath.
The “big” cities are pretty small–We stayed in Luang Prabang for a few days, and used it as a base for a memorable trip up the Mekong to a cave full of Buddhist statues. In fact, much of what we saw related to Buddhism–or to the half century it was part of French Indochina.
Luang Prabang was the capital under the French, and thus has what used to be the king’s palace. The communist Pathet Lao took over the country in the 1975, and the palace is now a museum. It’s a nice mix of French colonial and Lao, and I remember sitting in the palace while David explained patiently his dissertation on turn of the 20th century art. The trip on the Mekong took us to that cave, but we also stopped for a look at farms in the countryside, confirming our suspicion that the Lao People’s Democratic Republic is among the less developed countries of the world.
Vientiane, the current capital, was also on the itinerary. Among its claim to fame was that it houses the largest Buddhist temple in the country.
time), the opportunity existed to put together a May Term trip for 2002 that spanned the European continent. This is what we promised:
