Hmong Village

We were up very early this morning to take part in a traditional Lao ritual of offering alms to the Buddhist monks. Very early each morning, local people prepare rice for the monks, in addition to the morning preparation for their own family breakfast. When a gong is sounded from the temple, people line the streets, sitting or kneeling, with a basket of rice. The monks, in their saffron robes, march around the streets single-file without stopping. People grab balls of rice from their basket with their bare hands and toss one into each monk's bowl as they pass. The poor sit along the same route with a bowl or basket, but with heads bowed and hands pressed together. The monks donate from what they have just received in order to share with the needy.

We nearly froze in the tuk-tuk in the morning chill. When we arrived in town, our local guide had prepared mats on the sidewalk for us, with a low plastic chair and a basket of rice on each mat, along with a nice Lao scarf that we needed to tie over our left shoulder to indicate that we were giving alms. Three groups of monks came by -- there must have been 50-60 in all. One woman gave away her whole basket on just the first group. I was stingier, and had a lot left. As a life-long Lutheran, I had a perverse urge to say, "The body of Christ, given for you" to each passing monk as I put a ball of rice in his bowl!

After seeing to the monks, we walked to "the Lao Starbucks" -- a neighborhood stall selling ultra-strong Lao coffee mixed with sweetened condensed milk, straight from the Carnation can. It was actually pretty good. We got to "chase" it with a glass of hot green tea, which was less good. And for our one dollar, we also got a Lao "donut" -- an oddly shaped piece of deep-fried dough that one dipped into a bowl of more straight condensed milk -- also not bad.

We looked over a number of other breakfast options on offer along the street, but did not partake of fish on a stick, water-buffalo liver on a stick, or other delicacies (there's more food on a stick here than at the Iowa State Fair!). One thing our local guide did invite us to try was deep fried sweet sticky rice on a stick (not bad, but it would take about a dozen of them to make a meal) and we got to peal and eat a tamarind (not much fruit for the effort of getting to it, but supposedly a natural laxative, which I suppose is a plus).

Next we visited the morning market, and as we entered we were given an assignment to buy a particular item, and provided an appropriate amount of Lao money (about 8,000 Kip to the dollar -- yes, all of those zeroes belong there). The assignment was written phonetically in English letters, so we had to go around and ask for this thing without knowing what it was we were actually supposed to be looking for. The local guide warned us that ours would be difficult to pronounce. We did the best we could, but came back pea pods when we were supposed to have had rice noodles. Fail.

The market had the usual interesting stuff found in a third world food market, but with a few extra wrinkles like plastic bags full of buffalo blood at the meat stalls, and an unusually large assortment of catfish heads. We were told this is where the locals shop, but there were a number of items targeted to tourists (English labels and unusually high prices on food goods wrapped in plastic are tip-offs).

We went back to the hotel for a full breakfast, and to pick up the few slackers who chose not to get up before dawn to feed the monks. We then set out again, this time in the motor coach rather than in the tuk-tuks, for a long drive to a rural village. The things we bought in the market were contributions to the home-hosted meal coming up at lunch. We made a stop along the way at a nice looking farm with some picturesque fields and rice paddies, as well as a baby water-buffalo. The people had, of course, not expected company, and they did not quit working in the field when we descended upon them, but they seemed very friendly and proud to show off their farm. They graciously answered even the agriculturally-challenged questions (from group members who clearly had not grown up anywhere near Iowa) as interpreted by our guides.

 

On to the village (a project of Grand Circle Foundation) where we were met by the "head man" and his assistant. After some opening pleasantries, he took us to the area where Grand Circle had donated some hand looms, which allowed women of the village to learn the weaving trade. Table runners of every color and pattern were available for purchase, but only table runners -- nothing else. I suggested they add some place mats to the inventory, but I'm not sure how this translated. We also got to see the water project, that allows families to share a number of water taps around town, rather than walking hundreds of yards to the river with buckets. Poultry also seemed important to show us.

 We met and chatted as a group with a 70-year-old man, sitting in his yard making baskets. Through the guide he told us that he had always liked Americans back during the [Vietnam] war, and "he's glad we came back." (Of course, it's known as the American War here, not the Vietnam War). We also spent some time at the local blacksmith's shop (not really a shop, more of a canopy in the yard. The bellows for his fire were unlike any I'd ever seen: Two wooden tubes standing about 4' tall with what could have passed as a broom handle sticking up in the middle of each. By alternately raising and lowering the handles (sort of like a pair of old fashioned butter churns operated in opposite phase) a continuous stream of air was directed into the hot coals to heat the steel. Today's project was fashioning some rather serious-looking jungle knives from fragments of broken leaf spring from a truck. The man's wife was making handles and sheathes from bamboo.

The head man demonstrated a rather ingenious trap, made from bamboo and wire, designed to attract wild birds to a bait, and then snare them for eating. When asked what sort of birds they were trying to catch, the answer was, "whatever will take the bait." Omnivores!

Finally we reached the school, which is a two room affair with one teacher and about 26 students in grades one and two (for grades 2-5 students walk to the next village). Classroom management seemed not to be a high priority, and the little girl who took my hand and brought me into the classroom as my "hostess" was particularly naughty during the Q&A time with the teacher. Some in our group thought it terrible that one teacher had to have 26 students. These people obviously haven't visited an elementary school in the U.S. any time recently. Mary tried teaching "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes," and the children enjoyed singing it, but appeared to already know it.

 The second room in the school is the "library." It has lots of donated children's books in English, but the children mostly only read Lao. There are also eight computers, but they don't appear to be fully operational, and are probably not appropriate technology in this situation.

After the school visit we had a visit to a Hmong home, with a long Q&A translated by our local guide and photos of the man, his wife, and his brother, all in traditional dress. The man's younger brother also performed for us on a traditional instrument.

After yet another opportunity to purchase textiles (we found some this time), we returned to the Head Man's house to help prepare the ingredients we had brought. This was done on a wok over an open fire on a concrete slab in front of the house. The Head Man treated us to some local baiju as the preparation was underway. We removed our shoes to go into the house to eat, and the meal was supplemented by a large spread of food prepared by the family. It was quite good.

 Back on the bus, we drove a short distance to the Kuang Si Waterfall. My expectations were low, but this was quite a nice series of falls, separated by pools of clear blue mineral water that reminded us of Iceland's Blue Lagoon. There were swimmers (mostly college-aged Australians on university break). We enjoyed the hike and the people watching. The bear sanctuary was interesting, too.

We both fell asleep on the bus on the way home, so opted not to go back into town in the evening for dinner. We took a walk outside the hotel grounds, did some reading, and generally relaxed.