Satjadham presents: Once upon a time ... The photo album lays open. My grandpa held me in his arm in front of the post office where I was born in Xieng Khouang. There was a smile in my lip. Wait! Look at my eyes. They were real bright. For a baby just seen the world, wasn't everything wonderful? In contrast, my grandpa's eyes were sad. At that time, there was a contest of power in Xieng Khouang between the Pathet Lao and the Royal Government forces. War was ominous. Before I knew anything, we were on the plane to Savannakhet. From then on, only through the pictures and my parents' word of mouth which reminded me that I had once lived there. At another picture, I was standing straight with two of my sisters in the backyard of the Savannakhet post office which was used as both a residential place and a business premise. At that time, I was 8 or 9, and I remembered Savannakhet. It was really a booming town in the early 60s. The downtown area was very active: the night market stood out with brightly-lit stands of noodles (phoe and mee), and hundreds of customers hanging around. Maybe, because of the American secret involvement in the air bombing of the Pathet Lao controlled area especially Xieng Khouang and Sam Neua, Savannakhet's Air Force Base was heavily pumped with war materials such as the famous T-28 planes and millions of U.S. dollars. As a result, Savannakhet economy was booming: U.S. dollars flew out of T-28 pilots' pockets as if they were just plain papers. One could say that Savannakhet Air Force Base was better equipped than even Vieng Chan's. In fact, because of the visible American involvement, this base was so powerful that its commander, General Ma, dared to attempt a coup d'etat in the late 60s (plus another one in 1973). If you ask: do I like Savannakhet? The answer is an obvious "yes". In Savannakhet, my family belonged to one of the most influential and wealthy circle. I, personally, like it because my half-brother was a T-28 pilot whom almost every girl couldn't keep their eyes off. Besides, if I was still there, I would end up being a T-28 pilot like him. Too bad, my dad didn't like to live in the spotlight so we had to move to Thakek where he was born, grew up and where the Saycocie families were dominant in the late 60s. Next picture, I saw myself playing soccer in front of the post office. I remembered that year was either 1968 or 69, Lao soccer national team beat Thai soccer national team for the first time in the King Cup (4-3). When the final whistle was blown (I listened to the live broadcast by the Thai radio), I cried out in jubilation. SomNeuk, Vatthana, Upekkha, and Pheng Savan became the national household names. It was also in Thakek that I was first attracted to an opposite sex. In one of the class in "Ecole Charite", I was assigned to sit between two pretty Vietnamese girls. You know what? I gave one of them a rose. Wasn't that called love? Also, when I was in the 6th grade, I was lucky to have a teacher who was an ardent patriot. He aroused in me the love for the country and a deep sense of justice of which until now are very endeared in my heart. If you ask: do I like Thakek? It's hard to answer. Compared to Savannakhet, Thakek was a sleepy town. One thing I like about it was its captivating scenery with towering mountains all around like the wall enclosed. Looking from the Nakhon Phanom bank which I like to frequent, Thakek was like a magic place floating between towering mountains and fleeting clouds. Thakek was also known for its many tributaries with clear and green body of water where people liked to go picnic. Too bad, it was in Thakek that my family sunk down in terms of wealth and power which we never recuperated ever since. It was the first time that I had to use my own labor to push a cart of water for my family to use at home. Another picture, I was standing with my whole family in front of the newly-built post office in ThaDeua, Vieng Chan. It was in ThaDeua that I really excelled in education. I was placed the first every month even in painting which I hardly touched. You know what? if you do well in one thing, you tend to do well in others. It was in ThaDeua that I first wrote poetry, and the teacher loved it. Not only that, my singing ability was a perfect ten. It was known that I was the first one from that school to go into Lycee de Vieng Chan. Besides school, ThaDeua was too much a town that was culturally Thai-oriented (Thai music, TV programs, etc...). For Vieng Chan people, ThaDeua was just a gateway to NongKhai, or an eating picnic during the weekend at its many riverside restaurants. The next picture, I saw myself standing at Phon Kheng's defense headquarter with my classmates and the whole student body of Lycee de Vieng Chan. I did remember... that chilling day of December, 2nd, we gathered at Phon Keng to listen to the leaders of the revolution speak. In fact, we hardly slept that night before because we had to get up around 3 or 4 am to be in line for the march to celebrate that event. Thinking back, I am at awe at how energetic and revolutionary (maybe insane too) we were at that age (the late teens to early twenties). Now looking back at those pictures 20 years later, I am in a loss of words. Of those who actively participated in that event, how many of them have left? For those who remained behind, how many of them have been disillusioned? If and only if, revolution was a really a revolution, some of us might have been drasticly different. I, for one, could testify to that. Let me sum up in these forms of questions: Who wants to leave the place where he/she was born and grow up with? Who wants tobe stranded in the drasticly different culture? Who doesn't want to contribute to the well-being of one's people and the progress of one's country? And who doesn't want to be proud of giving his/her heart and soul to the glory of our beloved country? Tell me. The last picture, I was standing in front of lycee de Vieng Chan with my female friend whom I wholeheartedly loved. Her house was near Dong Dok but she stayed in the dorm during the school days. Because I was kind of shy, I never mentioned that I loved her. I wish that she would know by herself through my many acts such as riding a bycile everyday from Bane Sisavath to Dong Dok during the summer break to teach her mathematics, and taking her to see my parents at home that I was really serious with her. At that time, I was too stupid. When I saw her friend frequented her house every time I went there. I thought she had fallen for him. Because of that foolish assumption, I stopped seeing out of frustation (whenever I went to see her, that guy was already there so I had to go without seeing her days in days out) until the day before I left Laos. You know what? when I dared to say that I loved her from the first time I saw her and even today, she unexpectedly told me that: "You never tell me that you love me." Even today, I still can't erase that scar, that love from my memory. Maybe, one day, I will go back and see her again, not as lovers but as the builders of our beloved country, Muang Lao. I sit motionless for a while, look at the photo album for the last time and then extend my hand to close it. Hak phaang, Kongkeo Saycocie (http://www.santarosa.edu/~ksaycoci/kongkeo.html) Any comment? Please send it to or post it in SCL.