(This is Chapter 12 from Mr. Prabhakaranâ€™s book, An Indian Goes Around the World â€“ I: Capitalism Comes to Maoâ€™s Mausoleum, which we have been serializing in this space. Chapter 13, â€œA Humbling Experience in a Laotian Town,â€ will appear next week. Read the series every Monday. â€“ Editor)

The Mekong River is about 3,000 miles long. It is the twelfth-longest river in the world. Starting from the Tibetan plateau, it flows through or borders on six countries â€“ China, Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam â€“ before emptying into the South China Sea. In terms of biodiversity it provides to the areas it touches, the Mekong is second only to the Amazon River.

I recalled these details when I set out on an early-morning walk during my brief stay in Luang Prabang, Laos, in November 2006. The details also reminded me that, during the short walk I was going to take on Luang Prabang Road overlooking the Mekong River, I would be able to enjoy only a tiny part of the beauty this wonderful river is known for. However, the disappointing thought vanished the moment I got the first glimpse of the river.

It was a pleasant November morning. The sun had just risen, giving a copper-color coating to the surface of the river. The water in the river was churning. I have been told that it has always been churning in the Luang Prabang area. None has found out why. The lush forest the river snakes through adds to its beauty.

The serenity of the morning was pleasantly disturbed by the occasional chirps of birds and footsteps of joggers. All joggers that I saw were foreigners. I could also tell from the way they responded to my â€œGood morningâ€ that most of them were from Australia.

â€œItâ€™s quite a treat, eh,â€ I said to one of them. In fact, I was speaking for myself. For a person living in New York City, a morning jog on an empty road that winds its way through wooded areas overlooking a river is, indeed, a rare treat.

â€œIt is,â€ the man replied. Then he waved to me and said â€œGood day,â€ in the typical Australian fashion. By which I mean that it sounded â€œGudai.â€

I felt great. â€œI will be reminiscing this experience for a long time,â€ I thought to myself and continued walking. Little did I know then that what was going to make my morning walk by the Mekong River really memorable was yet to come.

Nisha Indian Restaurant

I might have walked for another five minutes when a road-sign on the opposite side aroused my curiosity. â€œNisha Indian Restaurant,â€ the sign said, with an arrow pointing to a side street.

In the two days that I had been in Luang Prabang, I had not met a single Indian, let alone see an Indian restaurant. What added to my excitement was that the road-sign indicated not just any Indian restaurant, but one that bore my nieceâ€™s name. â€œHow did a restaurant in a Laotian town get my nieceâ€™s name?â€ I wondered. To find out, I walked in the direction the arrow pointed.

The restaurant was the front of a house in which its owner and his family lived. It was too early for any customer to be around. A man in a lungi, that ubiquitous loincloth most South Indians wear at home, was playing with a little girl on the veranda of the house. His South Indian features were unmistakable and he could easily pass for a cousin of mine. â€œHe must be the owner,â€ I said to myself.

â€œWhich part of South India are you from?â€ I asked him, at the risk of sounding presumptuous.

â€œPondicherry,â€ he said.

Pondicherry is one of the former French-colonial enclaves in India, about a hundred miles to the south of Chennai. Even after the rest of India gained independence from Britain in 1947, the French and the Portuguese continued to cling to their colonial possessions in the country. The Indian territories under Portuguese control were Goa, Daman and Diu. While the government of independent India, after protracted negotiations, persuaded the French to depart voluntarily, it had to engage in a mini-military operation to get rid of the Portuguese. The French departed in 1954 and the Portuguese were expelled in 1961.

In colonial days, people from one colony could move to another with minimal travel restrictions. Laos was a French colony from 1893 until it declared its independence in 1945. It became completely free of French control in 1954. The Indian restaurateur appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties, not old enough to have left Pondicherry and moved to Laos when both were French colonies.

â€œHow long have you been here?â€ I asked him.

â€œThirteen years,â€ he said.

If I had more time at my disposal â€“ I had to leave Luang Prabang by noon â€“ I would have asked many more questions to satisfy my curiosity. I would have asked questions like how a person from a former French colony in India ended up in a former French colony in Southeast Asia. Those who were well off usually went to Paris and other major cities of France. But I had to ask him the one question that brought me into his restaurant: How did he come up with the name Nisha for his restaurant?

â€œOh, Nisha is my daughter,â€ he said, pointing to the girl who was running around the place. She could be about seven or eight years old.

â€œMy nieceâ€™s name is Nisha, too,â€ I told him.

I had expected him to say something in reply or, at least, smile. He did neither.

I ordered a South Indian breakfast â€“ dosa, sambaar and tea. The tea was from Darjeeling, the beautiful hill station in the Indian state of West Bengal, famous for its tea. Darjeeling had no French connection, though.

Photo: The Mekong River, as seen from the Laotian town of Luang Prabang. About 3,000 miles long, it is the twelfth-longest river in the world. It flows through or borders on six countries. (The picture is reproduced by courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.)

(To be continued)

(M.P. Prabhakaran can be reached by email at prabha@eastwestinquirer.com)

Chapter: 12:
A jacket and a bride for the price of one: Shopping on Nanjing Road (Travel with MP Prabhakaran)

10:
How a Shanghai neighborhood got an Indian name

9:
Capitalist celebrations in Communist China â€“ on May Day (Travel with MP Prabhakaran

8) Capitalism Comes to Maoâ€™s Mausoleum â€“ But in Its Crude Form

7) Picture of a cow on Beijing billboard confuses a Hindu (Travel with MP Prabhakaran)

6) Yoga on Copacabana, conducted by a Brazilian beauty (Travel with MP Prabhakaran)

5
Hunchback and sugar loaf: Two tourist attractions in Rio de Janeiro

4)
How Portugal failed to colonize Calicut: Chat with a Brazilian

3) Brahma and Laxmi reincarnate in Brazil? (Travel with M.P. Prabhakaran)

2) Eva Peronâ€™s tomb is too small for her ego (Travel with M.P. Prabhakaran)

1) My Two Embarrassing Moments in Buenos Aires (Capitalism Comes to Maoâ€™s Mausoleum-1: M. P. Prabhakaran)
http://dlatimes.com/article.php?id=40709

(about the author) An Indian Goes Around the World â€“ I (Capitalism Comes to Maoâ€™s Mausoleum)http://dlatimes.com/article.php?id=40126

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A morning walk by the Mekong; A restaurant named after my niece (Travel with MP Prabhakaran)