Bpoo Naa

Young Man Joking With Bpoo Naa In His Mouth

Back in May of this year, I got the inspiration for a long term project.  During the Bun Bang Fei Festival in the sub district, Tambon Nongwa, we had witnessed several Muay Thai boxing matches - most of them involving children younger than 15 years old.

The career of a Muay Thai boxer is typically over before they are 30 years old.  However their career starts early - sometimes before they are even five years old.  The song, "The Boxer" from the 1960's rattled around in my brain after watching the matches, especially the ones involving very young boys.

"I am just a poor boy  Though my story's seldom told ..."  The lyrics motivated me to embark upon a long term project photographing and writing blogs about the life and development of young Muay Thai boxers - hopefully focusing on one boy.

I asked Duang to call the people associated with the matches at Tambon Nongwa and determine if I could visit where the boxers train and perhaps meet a young boxer.  She obtained the phone number, called but nothing has materialized ... yet.

Recently, entirely by chance, Duang became friendly with a friend of a friend - a woman whose son and grandson are Muay Thai boxers here in Udon Thani.  Duang remembered my wish to start the long term project and spoke to the woman about it.  The woman was very supportive of the idea.

Four days ago we made arrangements to meet with her and go to some Muay Thai matches at the Udon Thani Fair.  On Saturday morning got a call from the woman inviting us to meet up with her family on their land where they had a pond.  The family had drained the pond and were harvesting fish out of the mud.  We ended up meeting with them at 2:00 PM rather than 4:00 PM.

The Party Next to the Pond

Duang ended up driving which was great - we got lost many times - three phone calls and finally her son, the boxer, found us on the wrong side of the airport to lead us the correct way.  I can deal and handle getting lost when Duang is driving much better than when I am driving and following her directions.

The family had finished hauling the fish out of the pond - a very small pond more like a large puddle, but had pulled some good fish out of the mud.  They were cooking two of the fish over small charcoal fires.  A grand picnic had been going on for a while.  We were immediately welcomed, offered food and beer.  We gave the beer that we had bought for our visit.

Digging for Bpoo Naa

I took some photos of the various activities.  For some reason two of the men decided to catch some crabs.

No, they were not planning to drive 8 hours down to the ocean.  They were going to capture some crabs hiding underground in the dried up rice paddy where we were.

My first introduction to rice paddy crabs was almost exactly six years ago outside of Kumphawapi while visiting our infant grandson, Peelawat.

http://hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2009/01/give-us-our-daily.html

I had seen very small crabs getting crushed in large mortars as part of the preparation of the ubiquitous Lao Loum culinary specialty - "Puak Puak" also know as Som Tom - green papaya salad.  I had assumed that they were salt water crabs until my chance encounter with the old lady harvesting them in Juanuary 2009.

My research on these crabs did not completely confirm my observations regarding the crabs.  I checked with my wife to verify my observations about the crabs.  What you are about to read is different from some web articles but it is the truth as confirmed by a local person - someone born and raised in Isaan - someone who has eaten her share of bpoo naa over the years.

The crabs are called "bpoo naa".  Their scientific name is "paratelphusa hydrodromus".  Bpoo naa is a freshwater crab that is actually a nuisance for the rice farmers.  In the planting season, our rainy season. starting typically in June the crabs feed at night upon the tender seedlings - cutting them off at mud level and chopping them into small pieces that the crabs haul back to their hole to have their meals.

I have seen Isaan farmers time to time spraying a liquid from small back mounted tanks over the surface of the water in paddies where rice seed is germinating.  The chemical is to destroy the rice paddy crabs.  In older times, the crabs were removed from the paddies by attracting them into submerged earthen pots or jars baited with smelly fish, cooked coconut, or shrimp paste.  The crabs attracted by the smell of the bait would go into the submerged jar but because they are not great swimmers and are unable to walk up the steep walls of the hard container, they would be trapped.  The farmers would then empty the traps of crabs each morning - just in time for breakfast or to have some fresh pauk pauk in the afternoon.

During the rainy season, as you walk along the rice paddy bunds, the narrow low mounds of compacted earth that surrounds the paddy to contain the water for growing the rice. you will encounter many dirt cones.  The dirt cones are about 4 to 5 inches high  and about 2.5 inches in diameter at the base. It appears that the cones are constructed of many small balls of mud.  These cones are constructed by the crabs as they dig into the moist ground to construct their homes. The burrows are approximately 18 inches deep at this time.

As the growing season advances, the crabs cut through the outer layers of the rice stalk to get at the tender insides for a meal every night.  As the growing season continues the ground becomes progressively drier. Later in the season, the cones become less prevalent on the bunds and appear more often inside the actual paddy where water remains.

By the time of the rice harvest in November, the crab burrows have become deeper and deeper.  The crabs dig deeper to keep moist and prepare for the stifling hot days in January, March, April, and May before the rains reappear in May or June.  The rice paddy crabs hibernate in their burrows from approximately January to May.  People consider the crabs to be most flavorful during their January hibernation.



Quickly Excavating A Suspected Crab Burrow

Last Saturday, there were no longer any dirt cones to be found on the floor of the rice paddy.  Since we have not had substantial rain since the end of September, the cones have turned to dust and scattered by feeding livestock, the activities of harvesting the rice crop, and the action of wind.  However if you look carefully you can find the entrances of the crab burrows ... as well as snake holes.  Fortunately there are many more crabs around here than snakes but you still have to be careful.

Scratching Around For Bpoo Naa

Because it is getting close to hibernation for the crabs, their burrows are now about 36 inches deep.  When the crab hunters have gotten close to 36 inches (one meter) below the dry paddy surface, the men reach down into the hole, scratching around and feeling for a crab.

If the hunter did not find a crab, he carefully looked into hole for some sign and would commence once again to dig deeper with his hoe type tool.  After a short while, he or his helper, would stoop down on the ground and shove their arm down the hole to repeat the process.  After two or three tries, the hunters, they would pull a 2" to 2.5"crab out of the hole.

Bpoo Naa Fresh From the Burrow

The harvested crabs were placed in a bucket and brought back to the other people of the group.  Bpoo Naa have to be eaten before they die.  I read that shortly after they die, they smell very bad.  Smell bad?  I have yet to find a Lao Loum person that was put off from eating something because of the smell - after all they use 6 month to 12 month old fermented fish to season their food like we use ketchup in America.

There have been many times that I was in the process of throwing some meat into the garbage because of its smell, when Duang would stop me and ask what I was doing.  I would tell her that it was bad and did not smell good.  She would smell it and tell me that it was Ok, Good - good for Isaan.  She would end up taking it to Thasang Village  for her family to eat.

Even in my days as the Steward of my fraternity back in college, I was quick to discard any food that had a hint of not smelling exactly right.  I take pride in knowing that in my three years there was not a single case of food poisoning.  Old habits are hard to break, I guess.

I asked Duang about having to eat the crab while it was alive or very shortly after it died.  She said yes because some people eat it when it is too old and they throw up and have diarrhea.  All good reasons to not it after it dies if you ask me.

One of my new buddies had a great time clowning around and posing for me with a crab.

At 4:00 PM as originally scheduled we set off for the start of the Muay Thai project.

Give Us Our Daily ...

Your last meal most likely involved no more effort than opening your refrigerator or cupboard, gathering the necessary ingredients, and cooking in the microwave, in the oven, or on the stove top. Perhaps you were fortunate and you went out to eat, out to eat at a fast food outlet, nice restaurant, or a friend's house. Like me, I am certain that your only concerns were what you were going to eat and there were no thoughts as to whether you would eat or not - just like we are all certain that we will have dinner tomorrow, next week, and any and everyday in the future.

The luxury of not worrying about availability of food is not shared by everyone in this world. It is not shared by all the people of Isaan, in particular this elderly woman outside Kumphawapi amongst the rice paddies northeast of town.

After our adventures at the sugar refinery south of Kumphawapi, I stomped the red dust from my running shoes and cleared my head of the smells of the area to head out to visit Duang's daughter. The air around the sugar refinery was filled with a fusion of the sweet scent of fermenting sugar and the stench of sugar fermentation gone bad (terribly bad) - very similar to smelly - very smelly feet.

We drove through town and saw the local monkeys returning from their wanderings about town to their homes in the local park. Some monkeys take the high road - traversing the town along the elevated electrical and telephone wires. I have gotten accustomed to driving through town and seeing a monkey suspended above the middle of the road on a wire.

Other monkeys stick to the low road - scampering along the roads and sidewalks back to the park. Often their journey takes them across the path of vagrant dogs but I have yet to see a dog versus monkey battle. I suspect that the dogs, or the ones that are still around, have learned not to mess with a monkey. Monkeys are mean little buggers!

A third group of monkeys, small juveniles were in the middle of transitioning from the low road to the high road. An adult monkey, I don't know if it was a male or female - I didn't think it was polite to stare especially as I was driving and I didn't want any locals to see me checking them out, was on a high wire about 10 feet from a concrete utility pole. The adult had stopped and was looking back at the pole where several juveniles were climbing the pole and get to the point where they would go out on the wire. I got the distinct impression that the adult was supervising and teaching the younger monkeys. Lesson #1 - DO NOT TOUCH TWO WIRES AT THE SAME TIME. Lesson #2 - DO NOT TOUCH TWO WIRES AT THE SAME TIME.

My body hair is called "koh ling" - Monkey hair in the Isaan dialect. Duang says that the local monkeys are my brothers but she stops joking when I stare at them and start talking to them. I have had a confrontation with one that was stealing groceries out of the back of our pickup truck in town. Neither one of us was backing down. When I was giving the monkey hell for taking stuff, the monkey dropped the bag of potato chips and gave me the "dumb*ss" look as much to say "What? Me? What are you talking about? I didn't do anything!". Our standoff was only resolved when Duang came to the monkey's aid and chased it off with a broom that she had grabbed from the nearby motorcycle shop.

We manged to clear the monkey migration with causing any damage or getting damaged and hit the country road out amongst the rice paddies. The time was approaching early evening so the light was great for photography - a time commonly referred to as the "Golden Hour". It is also a time when the workers are headed back to their homes by all kinds of transport with each mode of transportation seemingly slower than the other. If there were more vehicles it might be referred to as "Rush Hour" but no one really rushes.

I have become accustomed to sharing the road with all kinds of vehicles - great and small as well as all kinds of animals. The elephants are well behaved and always stick to their edge of the road but you don't see them very often. The cattle are not adept at sharing the road, often they just mosey on up the middle of the lane or completely across the entire road. Since this is a poor region, the cattle herds are never large - usually 10 to 15 head maximum. The water buffalo are like defecating armored vehicles - a metallic gun metal grey of rippling muscles. Fortunately their herds are even smaller than the cattle. Often the cattle or water buffaloes walk along trailing an approximate 12 foot length of rope from their nose. It makes for quite a sight.

Dogs like to sleep on the road. They appear to have the knack for getting out of the way - even if it is just in time. I have seen only two dead dogs on the road in a year. In Brasil I would see a new dead dog along the main highway every other day. New? Yes in addition to the previous dead dogs. The dead dogs in the middle of the road lanes did not remain recognizable for more than a day or two. However the dead dogs in the median were a study in the progressive decay of organic matter. I observed one for over two weeks - truly disgusting.

Hens, roosters, and chicks as well as ducks coexist with both the dogs as well as cars on the road. They seem to be a problem but always get out of the way with plenty of time.

I have even gotten use to the other vehicles on the road. I do not get upset, excited, or concerned about the numerous motorbikes driving the wrong way on the road - they usually stay in the breakdown lane. I am even used to cars approaching head on as they pass one, two, three or sometimes four slow vehicles travelling in the opposite direction. I have grown to expect the unexpected when I drive - I am seldom disappointed.

As bad as it may seem, it works out - most of the time. In Brasil we used to say there were no laws or rules concerning driving. Knowing that you didn't take things for granted - you were not relying on the other guy to be following the "law". Everyone followed the same lack of laws so there was a consistency that prevented accidents. In three years in Brasil, I saw about 8 car accidents.

In Thailand the people share the road more willingly. They are not as territorial as Americans. They realize and are convinced that with every one's cooperation three cars and perhaps three cars and a motorbike can share two lanes of the road. Everyone gives a little and down the road they may take a little and it all works out - especially for cars and trucks. If there were more westerns here driving the roads with the "This is my lane and I am keeping it" mentality there would undoubtedly be many more accidents here. Motorbike accidents are a problem - I believe it is because everyone expects them to give a whole lot more than other vehicles.

Anyhow we got to Duang's daughters home - actually her mother-in-law's home where she lives with her father-in-law, grandparents-in-law, one or two aunts and uncles that always seem to be around a little two year old niece.

As everyone was catching up on local and family gossip, often one and the same, I noticed a solitary woman walking and working in the dry rice paddy across the dirt road from the house. She was dressed in typical Isaan or Lao Loum clothing and seemed an interesting photographic study. Duang said that she was gathering "hoy" snails to eat. I left the group and got my camera out of the truck. I crossed the road and walked over to her.

The woman was carrying a black plastic bucket, a plastic shopping bag filled with "greens" which looked more like weeds to me, and a five foot long wood pole with a small scoop on the end. She had gathered the greens from the paddy and along the roadside. I am certain that these plants similar to the plants that Duang eats are part of her diet.

It has not rained here since the end of October so the land in most places are very dry. The farmers have started to drain mud puddles to flood their fields for the new rice crop. This is nothing new and Al Gore need not concern himself on this issue, at this time, and at this point in time. The monsoons will return as they always do and everything will be flooded - once again. However the harvested rice paddies are dry as a bone and appear to be barren except for the stubble and weeds remaining from the harvest. As I walked the paddy in and amongst the deposits from free range cattle, I saw many mounds of dried mud.

These mounds were spiral cones of dried light colored clay fines with a small hole in the center - it reminded me of an upside down pastry coronet. The elderly woman would walk around and find one of these. She would stop and use the pole tool to dig the area beneath the coronet. After digging down about 18 to 24 inches she got on her hands and knees to finish the excavation with her hands. Many times she found nothing in the dry hole. But sometimes she found what she was after - "bpoo" (crab).

I know that they were crabs because she showed them to me as she pulled them out of the parched ground. She also showed me the very lively 12 crabs that she had in her bucket. Somethings I can not explain. I only report and write about what I have seen. Fortunately I have not seen or thought that I have seen any Phii (ghosts) so I do not have to defend my credibility on that issue - yet. However I can not explain how or why there are what looks like small saltwater crabs that I used to catch at the local beach back in Connecticut here in Isaan - 350 to 400 miles from the sea!!. I can not explain how these crabs can be pulled out of a 1.5 to 2 foot deep hole in completely dry dirt where it has not rained in 3 months. The rice paddy has been dry for at least a month. All I know is what I saw.

Lao people are very fond of a green papya salad called "Pauk Pauk". A component of Pauk Pauk is a couple of whole small cooked crabs - small as in about 2 inches across. These whole crabs, shell and all, are tossed in and pounded with a mortar and pestle along with the other ingredients. I was first introduced to this dish in Pattaya which is on the ocean and assumed that the crabs were saltwater crabs. I have seen the crabs in the local market and assumed that the crabs like the squid had been shipped up from the coast. Now I am wondering if the crabs were freshwater crabs all along. If I see or believe I see squid being caught in the local lakes and rivers I am going to be in need of some very serious professional health!

I talked a little with the woman but she didn't say much. It may or may not have been my command of the Thai language but a definite contributing factor to her silence was the fact that her mouth was filled with the various accoutrements for betel nut chewing. One time when she smiled, I got a view - I sight that I would have preferred not to have seen!

I returned to the group and got some further information from Duang about the elderly woman. She is a poor woman who wanders the roads and paddies each day gathering her food. She does not own the land that she scavenges. No body complains that she is digging on their land to harvest "their" crabs. I told Duang that in America you can not go on to other people's property to gather food without them complaining or perhaps calling the police.

Apparently here in Isaan, Lao Loum people do not want to deny anyone their daily bread even if it happens to be greens and crabs off of their own land.