Wednesday, November 1. Rode the new “high-speed” train to Vientiane. More like medium-speed (100 mph). It’s the train that may bankrupt Laos. The country owes China billions. Very, very smooth. Extremely high security. We had to pack any pointy things, including razors, separately and turn them in for safe-keeping.

The view was mostly of tunnel interiors and farmland. Among ramshackle homes were occasional mansions. Among shared poverty, exceptions exist.

Vientiane is not a pretty city. Old buildings, ancient electrical wiring, unkept roads. Trash. Traffic is weirdly sedate. No hustle and bustle. Right on red after a glance left to merge slowly into traffic.

Visited a “middle-class” home in the suburbs. Three sisters hosted five of us. Aged 45, 38, 29. Two children were very entertaining. They had puppies. I made balloons. The sister’s father was apparently a significant figure in the government, which explained the household’s wealthy condition and easy-going attitude. Though they spoke about the country’s hardships and government failings, I felt that they considered the situation as something separate from their daily life.