Hmong New Year at Xang's House - 3rd December 2014
I picked up Graham around 1730 in the Pajero and went
to Xang’s ("Sang's") house to celebrate the first day of the Hmong New Year. As we
arrived, Xi (“See”) his wife, was washing clothes at the well outside. Xang was
very gracious and showed us round his home. It is a very humble place comprising 2 adjacent, single-room, traditional, wooden buildings - one is the bedroom for him and the many people that live with him,
the other is the kitchen/dining room. Dirt floor, very low powered light - smoke from an open, wood fire in the corner filled the room
- thick above chest height. He showed us their shrines to the spirits - they
are Animists. Xang, Graham and I sat on very low stools round a table while Xi
prepared the food. We had taken with us some bottles of Beerlao one of which Xang opened. The 2
small, rather grubby glasses met with his disapproval so he ladled some
well-water from a bucket into a bowl and rinsed them. He poured the beer and
Graham and I shared a glass but soon afterwards another appeared from somewhere
so we had one each. In a very dignified manner he told us about his life The words 'poverty' and 'generosity' took on a new meaning for me. He and Xi have 2 small boys. Then there is his brother (a
farmer), his wife and child, 2 sisters with children, an orphaned girl, another
brother who is a deaf-mute from birth who helps on the farm, his mother and
others totaling 15 that he assists or supports! It was very sobering - a completely
different world. We touched glasses and he downed his beer in one.
Xi laid the table - one of the plastic
plates had something on it so she wiped it round with her fingers and handed it
to me. Aluminium spoons recycled from American warplane parts were passed
round. We all tucked in with fingers and spoons - some delicious pork from the
small pig he bought the other day in Hinmou Peung and which his brother had
killed and butchered, soup with small pieces of chicken (bone-in) and greens,
sticky rice, salad, chilli dip and sweet potato soup. During the meal his
brother came and joined us and another man who wasn’t introduced. A hen and her
chicks came in and settled by the fire in the corner. The cockerel (rooster to
my Australian and American readers) sat on a shelf above them. A small cat
walked around the table looking for something - didn’t find it and wandered
off. I noticed Yang and his brother put their pork and chicken bones on the
floor next to them - I thought maybe it was Xi's job to clear up. But, no, a dog entered and cleaned them up - now I understand - no waste.
Kids came and went. It seemed like a typical happy family. Xang invited us to go with him to the
bull-fighting tomorrow (see below). At about 1945 Xang said it was time for us to go as he had chores to do - close
up his tour business in town and then get an early night. Xang proposed another toast and we all downed
our beers. We thanked him and departed.
Bull fighting - 4th December 2014
Xang arrived and took us the bull
fighting - on a football pitch just beyond the airport.Anyone can bring their bull and enter him into the competition. It runs from 0800 everyday til late - today were
the eliminations - the final is on 6 Dec.
There were lots of people in a very big circle but there seemed to be
nothing to stop them edging forwards - except the bulls. Equally there was
nothing to stop the bulls charging into the crowd! Or maybe that was the job of a couple of chaps with AK47s across their backs.
Two bulls were brought out and encouraged,
quite gently, towards one another. Mostly they would push and shove without
using their horns, butting and ramming. Once or twice one of the bulls was
completely uninterested and was led away, to the shame of his owner.
Eventually, after 2 or 3 minutes, one would give up and trot off. With a couple
of flicks of his tail the victor would be led away to await his next fight.
Of more interest were the people in the
crowd. The girls and young ladies were dressed in their finest traditional
Hmong costume. They were amazingly ornate and yet trendy - short skirts and
high heels well in evidence. The young ladies played catch with one another
and as others arrived they would form up into lines. Young men came along and would ease into the lines opposite one of the girls to chat to her. They chat or, Xang
said, sometimes they sing together. Apparently young, unmarried people of opposite sexes are very constrained on when the can talk to one another. This was one such opportunity. So, it all comes down to organised flirting - a meat market at the bull fight!. The older ladies
keep a wary eye on their charges and discuss current affairs.
I watched a few bouts of the bull fighting
and then wandered around looking at the people and the stalls - usual
fair-ground stuff - food, rubbish toys, balloons and so on.
Hmong Funeral
Xang
and Xi picked me up at 0930 and took me to his cousin’s funeral at a house in
the same little ‘cul-de-sac’ as his - the house of his uncle, aunt and cousin.
There were several gazeboes in the lane with tables and chairs from which the
ladies were just clearing the remains of a meal. Lots of men were standing in
small groups, some near to wood fires two of which were in CBU26 cluster bomb unit
casings. A plain wooden coffin was resting on 2 oil drums next to the house
where Xang’s cousin lived with his family. Two musicians played Hmong wind
instruments in a tuneless way whilst they made gentle movements and circles on
the spot and a drummer tapped out a steady, slow rhythm on a drum hanging from
a small tree in the centre of the lane. Xang told me the tunelessness was part
of the spiritual process. The mourners had come from all over the country -
mainly family members but some were other Hmong people who came to give support
which would be reciprocated when the time came.
I
seemed to cause a small stir as many people turned to stare at me - I was the
only ‘falang’ (foreign, white person) there. I stood with Xang whilst he
explained what was happening.
Shortly
Xang’s uncle came to greet me. I gave him the ‘cop’ - bowing quite low in respect with my
hands palms together, fingers upwards. We then shook hands and I told him I was very sorry for
his loss and that he had my deepest condolences. Xang translated and told me I
should now give him my gift - I gave him LAK 200k ($28). He was grateful,
thanked me for coming to support him and his family, and told me that if I ever
needed it, he would come to support me.
Xang
then explained the funeral process. His cousin died on Thursday evening so he
had to be buried today at a location chosen by the parents. That morning a cow
had been killed - some of the blood lay in front of us on the dirt. The dead
cow had been tied by string to the wrist of Xang’s cousin so that as his spirit
went to heaven he would have the cow’s spirit to take with him which would make
him wealthy when he got there. The cow was butchered and cooked to feed
everybody that morning just before we arrived.
Xang’s
two boys were milling around with the other children and Xang told me that it
was important that they didn’t fall over - this would be a bad thing which
would require a special man (‘shaman’?) to get rid of the bad spirits in the
ground before the funeral could continue.
When
the meal had been cleared and the other chores completed the lid of the coffin
was slid back and a few men crowded round. They were telling the spirit of Xang’s
cousin that it was time to go to heaven. Xang asked me if I wanted to take part
but, since he wasn’t going to, I didn’t. After the men, the women did the same.
The
musicians stopped playing, the lid was closed again and Xang’s uncle became
very upset - several people tried to console him. The coffin was carried by the
men and loaded onto a waiting truck where many of them climbed on board. Three other trucks
carried other men off to the burial. The women don’t go as it is too
‘frightening’ for them - that was Xang’s word.
I didn’t go to the burial.
Xang’s
cousin was 18 and his wife was 16 years old. They were married about a year ago
- she comes from a village a long way from Phonsavan - on the road from Phou
Khoun to Luang Prabang (Phou Khoun is about 135 km away at the junction of
routes 13 and 7 where I had lunch on the trip to & from Luang Prabang). It
would take him 3 days to cycle to the house where his wife lived with his
6-month old child and her parents. He visited on Wednesday and they wouldn’t
let him in. He tried again on Thursday, his wife
and her family had a big argument with him. He was thrown out. He went outside and drank
some drain cleaner and half an hour later he was dead.
Lunch at Ban Xai ('Ban' means village, 'Xai' is pronounced 'Sigh')
Drove out to the farm and helped with
clearing the cassava sticks ready for the ground to be turned. One of the
seamstresses got all the food together from those people that had brought something to eat and prepared lunch.
Stir-fried vegetables, cabbage and onion soup, mushroom soup made with MiVAC mushrooms, fried
little birds, grilled fish, sticky rice. Feung had a catapult and the lads had
a competition to hit a knife handle about 5m away. 2,000 kip ante gave you 3 stones. I
entered the second round and lost resoundingly much the great hilarity of the
others. Hey, I'd never shot a catapult!
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| Moua aims at the target - the wooden handle of the knife |
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| Little birds ready to be fried |
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| Lunch is served |
Water Filter Handout
Drove out to the farm with Xang, Xi and Moua having
bought large quantities of pork, vegetables and rice at market. I
saw
poppies for sale - Xang called them opium. Apparently in some villages
30% of the people are addicted to opium. They often have chronic pain which is eased by using opium. Apparently one can put it
in whiskey
- Xang didn't say why. Also when the shoots are 150mm/6” tall they are
used as
good veg to fight "chemicals".
Did a couple of other chores. Bought 2
crates of beer at the little shop at Ban Xai. About 15 government officials
from Phoukood District turned up from various departments - health, water,
agriculture, police etc. They spent the morning looking at the work we had
undertaken in the 3 villages. We needed
a canopy, tables and chairs so we rented them from Mr No, one of our labourers. We set up the canopy and
got the filters out of the store. The seamstresses cooked the meal. All ready by 1100.
Once assembled, everybody took it in turns to wash in a single bowl of water
and all used hands to take food from communal bowls of food on the table - sticky
rice, pork, cauliflower, fish soup, chilli. Some villagers arrived - the men
came in and ate but all the women stayed at the gate on the track.
I sat between our contact at Phoukood District and the
Head of the District who both made speeches -- they
outlined each of the projects we have undertaken. Then I was invited to speak
and Xang translated. Among other things I mentioned the benefit of good hygiene
to good health, stated that I was fortunate to be taking the credit for a great
deal of work undertaken by a lot of people before me. I stated that the money
for the works and the filters had all come from donations from people in
Australia from the goodness of their heart to the people of Lao PDR. I thanked
them all for coming and helping the government officials with the evaluation. Karp
Chai lie lie (thank you very much).
We drank beer - the Head Man then me. We had to
finish our glass before it was topped up and passed to the next person and so on, round the table several times. Another glass
appeared and the 2 glasses were used by everyone. Apparently my plea for good hygiene fell on deaf ears.
Mr Moua gave a demonstration of the filter
operation. The Naiban (village mayor) read out names for each family to collect a filter and
they all gradually disappeared off down the road with their filters perched on
their bikes or loaded onto Chinese Buffaloes.
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| Lunch for the government dignitaries |
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| Speeches |
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| The village Naiban reads out the names of villagers to collect their water filters. |
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| Chinese Buffalo loaded with filters for one of the villages |
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Driving Etiquette
The
Lao are mainly Buddhist or Animist. Both have great respect for animals
and spirits. They seem to be very cautious when driving and very few
drive very fast. Any people or animals on the road are given a wide
berth - even dogs and chickens. I suppose they are all the property of
someone and, ultimately, someone's meal. As a result animals wander the
roads almost oblivious to the traffic. Yesterday Xang and I passed a man
carrying a dead dog by one leg. "Lunch?" said I. "Yes." said Xang.
Often, as we drive back to Phonsavan, we pass the children going home
from school. A long, straggling procession - some of them can't be more
than 3 years old and it's a good long walk for the little ones. No
adults. They stick to the paved area at the edge of the road and we pass
slowly.
Strangely, the
animals seem to have taken on this respect for one another as well. The
dogs don't chase the cattle, pigs or even the cats, the cats don't chase the
chicks (or the rats, as I discovered when I left some food on the
kitchen counter) - all very harmonious. The only animals that I have
seen trying to hurt other animals are the small kids who will kick a dog
if the dog is stupid enough to come within range.
Tuk tuk in Vientiane
I
arrived at 1930 - about 11 hours from Phonsavan. The bus station was out of town so I hopped into
a tuk tuk to the middle of Vientiane with 2 other falangs - 20,000 Kip =
$2.80 for about a 15 minute trip. Upon arrival I didn’t know where I
was and
was going to walk around until I got my bearings but it was getting late
and I
was tired and hungry. I changed my mind and decided to jump in a tuk tuk. The first
driver didn't know the hotel in which I was booked. The second driver
was
unsure where the hotel was - He thought about 2 km. We agreed 20,000
Kip. We drove about 50 metres and he
said that he had remembered where the hotel was, shot right up a side
road and
stopped outside the hotel - total distance about 100m! I gave him a 50,000 Kip note. He said he didn't have change. So I gave him a 10,000
Kip note and told
him I didn't have change and to be on his way!
Bhuddhist Monks and Novices Seeking Alms
This daily event at dawn has become somewhat of a tourist attraction in Luang Prabang but can be observed everyday outside my house in Phonsavan without a tourist in sight.
The peace and tranquility of the countryside and the villages
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| Village near Khoun, Xieng Khouang Province at sunset |
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| Near Ban Phongnam Nuea - 5 minutes walk from my house. Rice paddy fields recently harvested. |
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| Near Ban Phongnam Nuea |
Laying-off Staff
After the team had finished planting the onions and garlic, and had spread the fertiliser we sat in the rest room round a table on which there were some
hard-boiled eggs, chilli dip and pepper dry dip. Xang made quite a long speech
and then translated it to me briefly. He had told the 4 labourers that we were
sorry we had no work more for them until the new Memorandum of Understanding was signed with the government but that we would re-employ them as soon as we
could. As he spoke Xang sat holding a glass of beer.
At the end of his speech he quickly drank the glass of beer. He threw out the
last little drop on the floor and passed the glass to his right to Mr Moua.
Moua refilled the glass with beer and said a few words. He then drank the beer and threw out the last drop.
I asked if I could say something and Moua said I could, when I had the glass and beer.
So
the glass made its way round the table with each person saying something and
then drinking the beer. The same single glass. When I had the glass of beer in
front of me I told them similar things to Xang and thanked them from MiVAC and
me for their hard work and drank my beer and threw out the last drop. After the first circuit nobody spoke
to the group, we were just chatting to one another and drinking the beer as it
arrived in front of us. After the glass had made about 2 circuits the
seamstresses came in and joined us at the table and we started eating the eggs with the dips
- the pepper dip was particularly good. The girls also drank beer but slightly
less than the men. Still the same glass. Everybody became quite jovial, photos
were taken and the noise increased. We gradually worked our way through the 12
large bottles of Beerlao.
So
that’s how staff are laid-off in the Lao PDR.
MiVAC's Work in Hinmou Peung Finished
The villagers at Hinmou Peuung invited us to go to their village to celebrate the end of our work there. we took crates of beer, they provided lunch. In the morning there were several games of volley ball - MiVAC versus the villagers. Note in the photo that whilst the men played sport all morning, in the background, the women cut a level area out of the slope for a new house.
Tai Dan Weavers
I drove out to Khoun, the old capital of the Xieng Khouang Province. I walked
down to a Tai Dan village called Ban Nasy. The Tai Dan are a small ethnic minority. I wandered through the lanes where there were several
women weaving on looms under the stilts of their homes. I asked a lady if I could
photograph her but she wanted 20,000 Kip so I didn’t. I moved on and found
another woman who did allow me to take a some pictures of her with her kids.
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| Tai Dan house with loom underneath |
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| Tai Dan weaver and daughter |
Also saw a lady returning to the village from collecting wood - see below.
