The
wooden houses are spread out in a garden area in
the center of which is an open air dining area.
Music is carefully selected so there is no elevator
music, no techno and no pop, only classical, instrumental
jazz, and a smattering of classic-rock music. You
can sit in the open area, sipping coffee and snacking
for the whole day and feel time slowly and leisurely
expand and drift away like the current in the river
below.
The
grounds have a number of seating options, ranging
from a Thai traditional sala area, to chairs sculpted
out of giant truck tires, and even a tree swing.
However, what brings the place together is the kitchen.
Mut Mee has a great kitchen system, whereby you
write your orders in a book designated to your room
number and give it directly to the cooking staff.
This eliminates waiter staff and makes you feel
like you're almost at home in your own kitchen.
The items in the book are all tallied up at the
end of your stay. The system makes munching and
lazing the day away very attractive because the
food is also good. Strong Laotian coffee and freshly
baked baguettes are the staple. There are also daily
specials and a mix of Thai and European food too.
The European food is delicious and the Thai food
is adjusted for non-Thai tastes.
Conversations
with Interesting People
Mut
Mee's atmosphere is very conducive for long chats
and getting to know other guests. There's no TV
or video, so you are kind of forced to either read
or talk, which I think is a good thing. It takes
the edge off and relaxes you. And Thailand is a
place that attracts interesting people.
One
of the most memorable people was Jacob. Jacob was
in the room next to ours and was about 60 years
old. His wife was much younger and there was, of
course, an instant presumption of a professional
relationship. However, the girl did not seem to
be a pro, they were too intimate and relaxed, as
if they had known each other for years, and in fact
they had.
Jacob
was the kind of old guy that still seemed young
in spirit. He was a Canadian by birth and wore local
style cotton and natural fiber clothes as if he
were an ex-hippie. He rolled his own cigarettes
but seemed to smoke sparingly. It was almost like
by some quirk of destiny that a 30-something-year-old
traveler woke up one morning and found himself in
the body of an old man. Jacob gave the impression
that he fell off the middle class 9-to-5 assembly
line and as result, he had been spared its soul
crunching effect. He was an old guy who was a free
spirit.
The
girl that accompanied Jacob was his Laotian wife
and they both resided in Loei province. They were
coming up to Nong Khai because they had to resolve
some residence problem that his wife was having
in Thailand. They invited me to breakfast with them
and they were eating fresh fruit that they had purchased
at the market early along with baguettes.
You
could tell Jacob's wife was a Laotian and not Thai
for a few different reasons. She was dressed differently,
more conservatively than most Thai women her age,
and she had a down-home earthiness about her. Most
Thai girls would have had a hard time adapting to
bringing your own fruits and mixing your own coffee
while away at a resort.
As
we ate tangerines, Jacob told me he was only recently
married and his wife was pregnant. He had been in
Thailand for several years and had previously resided
at a Thai Buddhist temple, a "Wat" in
the Loei district. He was proud that he was permitted
to stay in the Wat, and he explained the entry procedure
that he had to pass. He had met with the abbot and
senior members of the Wat and they had asked him
why he wanted to become a Buddhist. His answer was
that he was not sure he wanted to become a Buddhist,
but he wanted to learn about Buddhism. According
to Jacob, this was the right answer and Jacob lived
in the Wat for over a year, learning meditation
and studying Buddhism.
