Today when I went outside of the house to go to my American friend's house, I was stopped by a girl who looked about eight years old and a boy of about six. They asked me to let them take some of the fruits that looked delicious to them. I didn't understand what they were saying in Laotian, but I could really feel their earnest hope partly because of their ardent gestures. Fortunately, a gardener was in at that time, so I asked him to climb up a ladder to get the fruits, and let the children to have as many fruits as they could hardly carry.

It seemed that they've been waiting for me to come out of the house as a chance for quite a while. I guess they summoned up a great deal of their courage to come up to me. The earnest gazes of the two children were shining, and looked beautiful. As a matter of fact, the day before yesterday, we had someone who wanted to buy the fruits on the tree. But I didn't accept that. Even though it was because I thought that I wouldn't appreciate having a stranger climbing up the tree where he could even see the inside of the house, I'm glad that I didn't anyway.

Yesterday, the people who live across the street (they were Laotians) were taking in coconuts. I was looking at them as being curious how they could climb up such a smooth and tall tree, then I saw them wearing some kind of spiked clogs made of irons, and going up and down by sticking the spikes into a trunk of the tree.

I eat quite many kinds of fruits in here. With the intention of making me try, Simon often comes back with a rich variety of fruits. There are lots of fruits I've never seen, tried or heard, and I'm trying tastes of them quizzically. Then I reached a conclusion that those fruits that are not well-known are not tasty. Pineapple, watermelon, and rambutan are delicious. My husband's favorite is durian. I can't stand even stand its smell.

I went to a neighboring restaurant twice with intention of trying Laotian food. Then I tried charcoal-broiled barbeque, fried vegetables, and fried rice. Well, they were not really unfamiliar dishes. It was just that I could order nothing but them because I didn't know how other dishes would look like. I saw some Laotians enjoying some kind of soup with fresh vegetables on the top while having a conversation, and that looked delicious!!

On the other day, I had lunch with government officers who had something to do with my husband's job. It was when we went to an artificial lake about fifty kilometers north of Vientiane. The Lao-sashimi, as called jokingly, was a dish with white fresh fish, garlic, ginger, hot pepper, and coriander being pounded all together into pieces. Unfortunately, I didn't try it. You should never let yourself eat uncooked food here. We also had a gorgeous-looking grilled fish with about thirty centimeters long, but it was a bit disappointing as it had no taste of salt at all, and I wished I had soy sauce or something. It seems like fish from Mekong River is indispensable in Laotian food.

What I was surprised at this lunch meeting was that the officers just kept drinking whisky-and-water despite that it was still during the daytime. They were just eating a lot and drinking a lot.... Talking of that, I remember that, when the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries was very nice to hold a welcome party for my husband, everybody was eating and drinking so freely as they could only be described as simple and innocent even in the presence of the minister, deputy minister, and other chiefs of each department. No one was tense or stiff at all.

In Laos, there is a kind of beer called Beer Lao. It's been produced with support from Germany, and it has a dry and sharp taste. You can find whisky, wine, and anything else at a liquor shop in town, and they are all very cheap. It seems that Laotians like drinking alcohol, but no alcoholics can be found in town, and so I'm not really sure what the truth is. I'll let you know after a little more investigation.

The other day, just like other general foreign residents in Vientiane, I went across the Mekong River to go for shopping in a town called Udon Thani in Thailand, which was about one hour and half away from here. There you can buy juice, butter, jam, laundry detergent, and other things that would cost a lot in Vientiane. Udon is a town where the U.S military base was during the Vietnam War. Because I was just so astonished by liveliness, great variety of products, and cheapness, I couldn't buy even half of what I had to buy, and came back home being exhausted. It's only been a month since I came to Laos, but I feel like I've already become a provincial person. I found Biore from Kao Co. and the newest rice cooker from National Co. at half the price of that in Japan.

My husband was saying that he was quite impressed when he bought shrimps. He said that they took the heads off when weighing the shrimps, and they were also getting rid of those that didn't look very good. Also, there is a splendid hospital where Australian doctors are also working, and that's where we go from Vientiane when we get sick. When I received a preventive injection against Japanese encephalitis there, I was astonished by cleanliness of the hospital and also by how inexpensive it was. The injection which was a hundred dollars in the United States was only eight dollars there.

You can buy vegetables, fruits, and meats at a market. I've taken a look at the market while I was out taking a walk, but I've never bought anything there. Because Simon is in charge of all the shopping, I just leave everything to her. That's why I don't know much about the food situation, which females pay the most attention, and I'm regretting for that now.

Translated by Maiko Noda