I’ve been a communist crony for over a week now. After day four in Hanoi, I realized that the loudspeaker message barking in my ear from 7 a.m. to 8 a.m. also occurred from 4 p.m. to 5 p.m. “It’s the news,” the hotelier told me. “Weather, reminders to wear your helmet, stuff like that.”...

It’s New Years Eve. The Thai sun shines in across the far east wall of the old city of Chiang Mai. Paper lanterns line the street, the stage at Thape Gate, poised for song and dance. Someone tests fireworks in the distance. Another year has passed. One-hundred-and-ninety-two days traveled. Six...