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Sleeping Beauty: Colonial architecture in Laos |
More than 50 years after the French, the tranquil capital Vientiane
boasts refurbished colonial buildings, formerly the playgrounds of
the elite.
fter decades of neglect and deterioration under a communist regime,
efforts to restore and preserve these witnesses of a bygone era
have only started in recent times. Together with Phnom Penh and Ho
Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon), Laos' capital Vientiane once
comprised the three classical cities of French Indochina. The
former colonial power developed its administrative seat on the bank
of the sluggishly-flowing Mekong River in strict adherence to
French city planning rules. Along wide avenues lined by casuarinas
trees, government offices and the mansions of the French and
Laotian elite were erected. It was in those villas where the
privileged few enjoyed an elegant European lifestyle with garden
parties and festive receptions. What is left of this colonial
idyll? After all, Laos suffered a decades-long civil war after the
departure of the French that culminated in a communist takeover and
a socialist experiment that took the country to the brink of
economic collapse. But a visit to present-day Vientiane quickly
reveals that the slow and relaxed lifestyle of colonial times still
prevails. Even baguettes, the renowned French bread, can be bought
all over the city. Fresh and crusty, and stuffed with Laotian pate,
this delicacy continues to remind of the colonial era even today.
The flair of old French Indochina is alive and kicking. Bicycles
and motorbikes still dominate road traffic, although the number of
cars has increased steadily since the government introduced a more
market-oriented policy that allows private enterprise. In the
oldest part of town along the river where the majority of the
former colonial masters' villas are located, the charm of
Vientiane, which can be translated as "City of the Moon", is most
evident. Occasionally half hidden behind dense tropical greenery,
many of the elegant edifices lie in a sort of "Sleeping Beauty"
slumber. Expropriated from their former owners by the communists
and transformed into government property, the once proud residences
often fell into a pitiful state of neglect and decay. The
government lacked the financial means - and perhaps will - to
upkeep the historical architecture. New residents generally balked
at the monetary effort to maintain their dwellings, which they
didn't own but were merely allocated by the state. Luckily, the
government has become more conscious of its historical heritage in
recent years. Comprehensive restorations, primarily of buildings
accommodating government agencies, have returned the former glory
of many edifices. The National Library, for years an eyesore, was
subjected to a complete renovation. Private efforts, mostly of
foreign origin, have additionally contributed to the preservation
of Vientiane's cityscape. Since the government announced its "New
Economic Mechanism" in 1989, foreigners have been allowed to invest
in the country. In fact, they are even encouraged, as reported by
Carol Cassidy, a former UN employee and textile expert who in 1990
founded her company, Lao Textiles, in Vientiane. "When I
established my business, I naturally had to look out for a suitable
building," she recalled her pioneer act. "I leased the former
residence of a Laotian prince from the government and renovated it,
paying for the work from my own pocket. I would like to claim that
it is nowadays one of the most stunning old buildings in
Vientiane," she said. It is, indeed. Located amidst a generously
laid-out garden on Rue Nokeo Khoumane, in the vicinity of the
river, the two-storey house appears extraordinarily attractive with
its gleaming white facade. Carmine red roof tiles contrast
eye-pleasingly with the whitewashed walls, and the Lao-style gables
further emphasize the magical character of the building. Built
around 1925, the mansion was luckily in a relatively well-preserved
state when Cassidy took it over. At least it was spared the sad
fate of a neighbouring villa, which also belonged to a Laotian
aristocrat. "After the forced disownment, the communist converted
the ground floor into a pigsty," Cassidy explained. The French
Embassy is situated in a quiet side street off Rue Setthathirat
near Wat Sisaket, the city's oldest Buddhist monastery. The
complex may be concealed from all too inquisitive eyes by high
walls, but the ambassador is nevertheless stylishly residing in a
chalet from the Indochina epoch. Within the confinement of the
encircling walls, time seems to have come to a standstill and the
mythical air of French Indochina lingers on. The cathedral of 1928
close-by, an architectural masterpiece, used to be the Sunday
meeting point of Vientiane's catholic community. It needs a little
imagination to revive these scenes. Close your eyes and listen to
the beckoning of the bronze bell that silenced a long time ago.
Today, the cathedral attracts a small gathering of Laotian
Catholics to its regular masses, a practice that was banned in the
not too distant past but is nowadays permitted again under a less
hard-line leadership. The "Champs Elysees" of Vientiane, Avenue
Lane Xang, bisects the inner city on a north-to-south axis. On its
northern end visitors are even confronted by the local counterpart
of Paris' "Arc de Triomphe". But "Pratu Xai" (victory arch), built
in 1958 with concrete originally donated by the US government to
upgrade Vientiane airport's runway, turns out rather disappointing
when viewed close up, an ugly concrete monster brandishing
uninspired frescoes depicting scenes from Laotian mythology and
history. The avenue's southern end meets the former palace of the
French governor, today the residence of Laos' president. This
miniature Versailles lies amidst an ample, landscaped garden. Alas,
a row of marble fountains gracing the front square have
relinquished their bubbly life long ago. High above, Laos'
national flag flutters in the tropical breeze and reminds brazenly
that the colonial era has departed forever. Despite newly found
consciousness and consolidated efforts to save and maintain
Vientiane's colonial building substance, modern development
occasionally exacts its toll. The dilapidated carcass of a villa
near the presidential palace was demolished in the late 1990s to
make way for the posh branch of a bank from neighbouring Thailand.
Vientiane was deprived of yet another historical building. It is
sheer luck coupled with the Laotian government's constant lack of
budget that such "demolition crimes" are far and between and not
more old buildings have vanished. It has to be hoped that
restoration efforts will persist. In the meantime, many of the
architectural witnesses of times bygone continue to sleep towards
their awakening all over the city. Tired and ruined, their windows
broken, their walls exposing brick masonry, they patiently wait
behind unsightly walls or thickets of tropical shrubbery. Who
knows, someone with sufficient funds and a sense of historical
appreciation may find their dream house here in Vientiane. In the
process, they might just also discover the greatest love of their
lives: the love for the architectural heritage of old French
Indochina.
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