As a cook for the school, whenever Tam Mak Houng was ordered, it was usually of Thai style. By the way, Khorat which was formerly at the frontiers of LanXang and Siam had a mixed population, roughly half Thai and half Lao. According to my “Thai” friend who happened to be of a Lao Khorat, they tended to live in different quarters of the city. This friend grew up in a family of Sieng Khene, sticky rice and PaDek. Because speaking Lao (a betrayal in accent could jeopardize one’s chance of getting a government job which most Thai people were coveting at) was considered countryside, she preferred to speak Thai to me. Interestingly, speaking of language, she said that it was Isan language, not Lao which her folks at home spoke; while the Isan taxi drivers whom I talked to clearly said that they spoke Lao. In fact, there was no language as Isan but the Thai wanted to swallow all that was Lao, they put it in the school curriculum that Isan people spoke Isan language. As my Isan friend was all the way up to the university, she was obviously of a Thai mentality while those Isan taxi drivers who were less schooled in the Thai educational system were still able to keep what they truly were deep down in their psyches. It was so rejuvenating to see not a few Isan people claiming to be Lao despite years of cultural assimilation by the Thai. In fact, they had nothing to gain , but instead many to lose, by resisting Thai domination. Yet, as they said adversity made men to be truly men. I would like to take this occasion to bow my head to them, namely Pirk, the driver of the Khorat school district, an art student wishing one day to be a school teacher and a good player of Khene. Like many other Isan people, he was Thai outside but strongly Lao in his psyches. Also, while visiting Khorat, I put my heavy feet on Thao Suranaree or Gna Mo monument, saw a place where Chao Anou set a camp at Donn Quyn (Fortress of Chariots), and engaged in a heated discussion with the Thai schoolteachers about Chao Anou’s war of independence. I was glad that I stood for Chao Anou in the very heart of Thailand where Chao Anou was badly vilified. Also, on the way back to Bangkok by bus, I passed through the range of mountains called Dong Phaya Phay which was naturally divided the territories of LanXang and Siam a couple of centuries ago. Further inside Thailand, I passed through Sarabury a place where most of the ethnic Lao during the earlier war between LanXang and Siam were forcibly relocated. It felt great indeed to breathe the air of those Lao patriots who wholehearted joined Chao Anou in the war of independence, and to relive the heroic act of Chao Ratsavong, our youthful hero. Not surprisingly, Sarabury people of Lao ancestry still talked of Chao Ratsavong, Chao Anou’s son, as their hero. Back in Bangkok, there was one interesting thing I would like to tell you. As I liked to frequent his shop for the Lao food, the owner of the store proudly played the Khene. Before I left, his wife said that the Lao language that I spoke was very sweet. I inferred from that statement that Isan people still thought of Muang Lao as the center of their Laoness. After a week in Thailand, I left it with a mixed emotion: sad to revisit the country that ate us alive and glad to witness some of us still clinging to their own self. I wish that within my lifetime I will have a chance to see a resurgence of Isan people claiming what is theirs back. I arrived in Narita (Tokyo) airport late in the afternoon. It was there that I had real trouble with my luggage especially my Khene. (to be continued) Hakphaang, Kongkeo Saycocie