Last weekend I found myself in the Northeastern province of Yasothon for the first time in more than 20 years. It brought back fond memories as there was a time ''Yaso" was something of a home away from home.
Long term readers may recall that my late maid was from Yasothon and in PostScript she was referred to as Ms Yasothon. Colleague Tony Waltham and I visited her village several times in the 1980s and 90s. We would travel up from Bangkok early in May to coincide with the Bun Bang Fai rocket festival and would stay in the maid's village.
On the first occasion we slept on the floor of the headmaster's office at the local school. It was a typical small wooden village school fronted by an overgrown football field. The whole place was run down, but what it lacked in maintenance it more than made up for in hospitality. That first morning we were greeted by two of the maid's young cousins with a breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast and coffee. It felt just like home.
