Life Along the Water - It Is All About Water

It is already March here in Thailand. Today is a holiday - the start of Buddhist Lent. It is also the start of the four day Mango Fair in nearby Non Wai in Amphoe Nong Wau Sor. We will go to the fair later this afternoon.

February went by so quickly. It doesn't seem all that long ago that we were returning home from our trip to Luang Namtha. Perhaps because the trip was so enjoyable that our memories and thoughts over the past month numbed our consciousness to the passage of time.

Throughout our trip, I was impressed with the importance that water played in the day to day life of the minority people of the Luang Namtha region. For many of us, water is taken for granted. It is readily available and at our disposal by merely turning a faucet open in our kitchen, in any number of our bathroom sinks, flush one of our toilets, our bath tub or tubs, our shower or showers, and the valves outside our home for watering the lawn and plants in our yards. Many of our refrigerators automatically create ice from the water that is hooked up to the appliance. We have no reservations about pouring a glass and drinking straight from the tap. The water is always there. The water is always potable.

That is the way that it is in our world. We may have concern regarding the availability of oil and its associated products. We are definitely concerned about the price of oil and its associated products. Seldom and perhaps never, are we concerned about the availability or cost of water. But this is not the way it is in most of the world.


We can live without oil albeit not as comfortably as we do now but all people, all creatures as well as plants, must have water. Unfortunately, for many people in the world access to water is not often reliable, convenient or even potable. To address some of the water issues, many people have settled alongside sources of water.

Every village and settlement that we came upon in the Luang Namtha region was along the banks of a river, stream, or spring. These sources of water were heavily utilized. In the late afternoon, we could see the villagers bathing in the flowing water. Typically in the morning, clothes were washed in the water although some people multi-tasked by washing clothes as part of their bathing ritual. No matter the time of the day for bathing, buckets of water were gathered and carried back home. At the Boat Landing Guest House and Restaurant, small pumps take water directly out of the adjacent Nam Tha River and lift the water to elevated storage tanks to be used as required. In some of the settlements the source of household water was nothing more than a slow flowing drainage ditch between the road and the house. The same water used for washing clothes, and bathing is often is also used as a food source and for drinking water. The same water is often used by children as a playground. The same water is also used by the villager's livestock. What water is readily available is well utilized.

There was photographic opportunity that most likely will forever be fixed in my mind. Outside of Xieng Kok on the road back to Muang Sing, we came upon a mother standing in a shallow ditch in front of her home no more than 12 feet from the edge of the main road. She stood ankle deep in the water, having completed her bathing, wringing the water out of one side of her sarong that due to some semblance of modesty she was still wearing. Joining her in the ditch were three little boys and a little girl - all under three years old. Watching over the scene were three other little children. I often write about the lack of privacy here in Isaan but this scene often repeated during our Lao trip exceeds what is the situation in Isaan.

Once in Peru, my wife at the time remarked about the personal hygiene of the local people in Cusco, Peru. Shortly after she made that remark, I saw out of the train window, a small girl, perhaps 6 years old, struggling to carry two filled yellow Prestone Anti-Freeze containers of water from the small community water tap in the middle of a flat compacted bare earth area at the edge of the village. I pointed the scene out to my wife and remarked that the child was bringing water back to her home for cooking as well as bathing. I asked my wife how many baths would she take and further pointed out the water was cold. Again, for much of the world bathing is not as convenient nor as private as is our experience. Most people do not have the luxury of closing a door, turning a faucet or two, and enjoying an unlimited amount of hot water upon demand. Our Lao experience reminded us of our fortune - a fortune that we should not take for granted.

So today as I wind up reviewing and editing the photographs from our Luang Namtha journey, so many of them having water in them, I reminisce about the experience mostly of life along the river.

Life along the river, life along the stream, and sometimes life next to the ditch - I can almost hear once again the sounds of clothes being slapped against rocks, the soft ruffling of clothes being hand washed, the occasional plop of a fish as it reentered the water after catapulting upwards to snare a meal, the sharp staccato of rocks hitting upon each other as village women wade upstream overturning them in their search for food to bring back for the family meal, the sound of wet clothes being beat with a wooden club to clean them, the excitement as well as exuberance of young boys and girls exploring the banks together - each discovery evoking a conference as well an animated discussion with one child naturally evolving to be the group's leader, the sounds of community gossip in a six tonal language by village women as they congregate in mid-thigh high water to bathe, the soft crescendo of mono filament fishing nets being flung over the waters as the sun sets and a full moon rises ... Yes it is all about the water. - Life along the river in Laos.

We will hopefully never take our water for granted again.

Laos Day 7 - Corporate Generosity

After completing my walk with the Monks in the mist, I returned to the hotel. Rather than wake Duang from her sleep by entering our cottage, I stopped at the reception/dining area first to have my breakfast.

As I ate my breakfast, I was joined by Khun Thone. We talked about our stay and discussed Duang and I returning at some time in the next year. Duang and I had enjoyed all aspects of our trip and look forward to coming back at another time of the year to experience a different perspective. Mr Thone indicated that he wanted to take us to two different area that we had not visited to photograph some of the other minority peoples of the region.

After awhile, we were joined by Khun Kreiengkrai Nakapong from the Thaioil group that I had played volleyball with the previous night. He was the leader of several Thaioil employees that were traveling together through Laos.

My last project in Thailand, was at the same refinery in Sriracha where Mr. (Khun) Kriengkrai is a Shift Manager. Even today, three years after I left that project, Duang surprisingly and peculiarly in my opinion when she introduces me to Thai people proudly points out that I had worked at Thaioil. Just as surprisingly and peculiarly are the people's reaction. Invariably they are very impressed. I can not imagine a similar reaction in the USA if a person was to be introduced as having worked on one of the major oil company's projects. I would expect that polite people would ignore the comment and less polite people might comment as to the major oil company's performance in regards to "corporate responsibility", "environmental stewardship", "social responsibility", and so forth through the litany of today's politically correct issues. Admiration for being associated with such a major corporation would be a definite shock.

During our conversation we were joined by the Village Headman of Ban Khone. He had arrived for a special ceremony outside of the hotel. I found out that the Thaioil employees were not on a holiday but were actually on company business for their travels through Laos. Thaioil, through its "Thaioil Group Without Borders" campaign had donated school supplies, treats, and sporting equipment for Lao school children. The Thaioil employees were distributing the items to the preselected villages.



As our conversation was wrapping up, I noticed many small children arriving at the hotel grounds. Most of the children were walking organized by class groups but some arrived in small farm wagons that are so common in the area. The children were bundled up in heavy jackets to ward off the morning chill of 60F (16C). The children were well disciplined and had an air of expectation about them. Khun Kriegkrai invited me to join in the ceremony. This was an opportunity that I did not want to miss. This was an opportunity that I wanted to share. I raced back to our cottage , a short ways away to fetch my camera and to bring Duang to witness the event. After getting dressed, she joined the celebration and enjoyed watching the children's joy at receiving some much need items for the school life.

After the formalities were completed, candy as well as some other food treats were distributed to the children. The children then went up to the tables heavily laden tables to inspect the school supplies and sporting equipment. The children were just as excited at receiving notepads, pencils, ball point pens, crayons, and erasers as they were about the edible treats that they were busy eating.

The sporting equipment - volleyballs (one slightly used, futbol balls (soccer balls), kataw ball, badminton birdies, and badminton rackets were divided up and hauled away by representatives from each school.




Duang and I said goodbye to the Thaioil people and wished them a safe return back to Thailand when their work in Laos was completed. They still had school supplies and sporting equipment to distribute and kilometers and kilometers to travel as well as promises to keep before they could sleep - back in Thailand.

I now had an insight and appreciation for why people in Isaan as well as other parts of Thailand are impressed to learn of my former association, as minor as it had been, with Thaioil. I had seen a corporation help improve the lives of children. I had witnessed the generosity of a major corporation - a generosity that transcended national borders and political divides.

I left Laos proud to have worked with Thaioil and perhaps a little disappointed that I had not actually worked for them. I now understand that their widely held esteem and reputation has been well deserved and earned.

Laos Day #6 - The Rest of the Day - Silk Experience

After our lunch in Luang Namtha on Saturday, 30 January, we wandered around the "new" town searching for the bakery and a place to buy some supplies for the next day's journey to Ban Pakha for the Lanten New Year celebration. "New" town? After the war ended in 1975, the Pathet Lao moved, or more accurately rebuilt, the market and government buildings north of the original town site in 1976. The "old" town where we were staying is subject to flooding in the rainy season so the decision was made to move to the higher ground to the north.

The new town consists of three wide parallel streets, one of them being the main highway - Highway #3 with a small number of connecting streets. Luang Namtha is the capital of the province but is essentially a rural backwater. There are several guest houses and a large hotel is under construction. There are a few restaurants catering to tourists and even fewer bars. There are several tour company offices offering treks, and when the water levels are sufficient, boat tours. The town is the jumping off point for treks into the minority people villages and the NPA wilderness.

There are supposed to be 35,000 people in Luang Namtha, but that number must include all of the adjacent villages in the wide area around the town. Based upon my observations, I would say that the actual "new" town has around 5,000 inhabitants. There was very little traffic on Saturday afternoon and even fewer people on the streets. It was so empty that we found only two booths on the sidewalk - a young girl selling fruit and an older woman selling some clothing - unbelievable for southeast Asia. After talking with several people, most who did not know about the bakery, we found out that the bakery was closed on Saturday and Sunday. Undeterred with bought some fruit and resigned ourselves to having to make an early morning stop at the market in Kouang, a small village past Muang Sing, to have breakfast.


We returned to the hotel - Duang to rest and I to write in my diary. As Duang rested, I sat on the porch overlooking the Nam Tha River, and took photographs. Several children, two girls and four boys, were busy exploring the opposite river bank as well as the river itself. They were having a grand time as only 5 to 8 year olds can. The boys were dressed only in the jockey style underwear. One girl was topless and the other girl around 5 years old was stark naked. Two of the boys climbed a tree stump and jumped into the river. With that demonstration of bravado the group waded across the river to our side, put on their dry clothes that were cached midway up the river bank, and walked back to their village.

After about two hours I checked in on Duang to see if she would like to go for another walk. She agreed so we walked to the bridge that spans the Nam Tha River and leads to Ban Pasak. Ban Pasak is a Tai Dam (Black Tai) village that we had visited earlier. During our previous village Duang has purchased a beautiful silk scarf from a local weaver.


We walked to the home of the village weaver and found the family involved in another aspect of the silk process that we had not witnessed before. The grandmother was working in front of a large wood frame that had been set up outside of their home. The woman's daughter or daughter-in-law assisted her in her task. An older grand daughter cared for her younger sister and baby brother. Her son or son-in-law supervised and helped as required to keep the work going.

The wood frame reminded me of the wood curtain frame that my mother used in the 1950's to stretch out and dry freshly washed sheer window curtains. The frame in Ban Pasak was about 4 feet wide and 8 feet long. Along each of the two long sides of the frame, 16 shiny metal tubes, about 6 inches long and 3/4 inch in diameter were fastened. At the bottom of the frame, two similar tubes were attached. The top of the frame was a wood board with a series of notches cut into it's upper edge. The bottom cross member at the back of the frame had approximately 20 slender wood rods. On the day of our visit, 10 of the wood rods had short blue PVC pipe bobbins placed over them. Each of the bobbins had a mass of brilliant gold colored silk thread spun around them. The older woman was busily occupied taking the 10 individual threads in her hand from the bobbins and looping them around the 34 shiny tubes. In a continuous and fluid motion she wound the threads up and down and up and down through the tubular maze. Her motion only occasionally interrupted when a thread was broken or came to an end. She stopped and waited as her son or son-in-law tied the two ends together and gave them a few twists necessary to essential make the knot invisible. It was remarkable even when I removed my glasses and got extremely close to the knot that I had just witnessed being made I could not see it. The end result of the afternoon's efforts will be a large skein of golden silk that will be placed above the hand loom located underneath the family home which stands about 6 feet above the ground on stilts. The skein is then incorporated into the fabric that is woven my the woman's daughter. On our previous visit, we watched as the daughter wove similar golden silk thread into a piece that she was weaving. It was extremely beautiful - the gold silk iridescent within the intricate design of the finished fabric on the loom.

Since Duang and I typically are not part of any tour or organized group, we remain masters of our time. We are able to stop and if not to smell the roses, to talk to the local people and learn much more about their life as well as their work. We both share the same passion to learn and understand the world outside of our home which makes our travels so much more enjoyable. In our travels we have found that two of people's favorite subjects for discussion as well as sharing are their life and their work. Our visit with the village silk weavers was no exception. As Duang and the villagers were busily engaged in conversation, I wandered around. I noticed two long pieces of PVC pipe straddled across the back of the family's Chinese farm truck. The middle of the pipes were covered with heavy paper - locally produced bamboo paper I suspect. I asked about the pipes through Duang and the man came over to show me what they were. He removed the paper covering from one of the pipes exposing a mass of shiny gold silk threads. Removed from the constraints of their paper restraint, several ends, I believe 8, of small skeins of thread dropped from the pipe. The family had recently completed dying the thread gold and the finished product was drying around the PVC pipe. Eventually the dried threads will be wound onto bobbins for subsequent processing on the frame close by.
Also spanning the pick up truck's bed was a wide bamboo tray covered by a large piece of silk obviously covering many objects. We learned that the fabric was covering special structures along with silk worms. The man's wife came over to me and brought me to an area underneath the house where many objects were stored. The objects were a dome type very open lattice created from woven rattan. From the woman, we learned from the woman that at the proper time, silk worms are selected and placed beneath each dome, 10 worms to a dome. The domes are then covered which encourages the worms to commence spinning their cocoons. using the dome to support their work. She then took us to a screened room underneath the house.

The screened room was about 10 feet by 10 feet and had a vestibule with two doors as and entrance. Inside the room was a large framework made from lashed bamboo which served as shelves. Many low side woven bamboo trays rested on the shelves. The woman removed one of the woven trays and placed it on the floor. It was filled with wiggling silk worms and mulberry leaves. She squatted and commenced to sort through the mass of worms. She selected the fat ones that had a yellowish tinge. The selected worms were placed into a plastic bin. These are the worms that are placed underneath the rattan domes to spin their cocoons. She was joined by her young son who readily pitched in to select the worms. Her young daughter was not put off by the wiggling and squirming creatures but was not willing to give up her guard with a falang (foreigner) in such close proximity!

After completing the day's sorting operation, the woman went up into the house and returned with a large bag filled with dry cocoons that had been previously harvested and boiled. The dry cocoons would eventually be turned into thread, dyed, and woven into fabric. It was very informative and interesting to learn how the family produced as well as controlled the entire process of creating silk fabric. Every member of the family contributed to the process and it appeared that the family was successful. Although the family was currently living in a typical Tai Dam elevated wood house, next door a three story concrete and brick replacement home was being constructed.

The family had a baby son who had a cleft lip. Fortunately his palate was fine. He was able to feed without difficulty and just about upon cue in response to my query about his ability to eat, he started to breastfeed. The family told us that when the baby got to be 10 kilos (22 pounds) he would be able to have his lip repaired for free. I took a father and son photograph in appreciation for the family's time and kindness. I promised to send a copy to them by way of the hotel. Two days ago we mailed the photos to Laos.

After seeing and learning about the entire silk production process that the family used to produce the silk scarf that we had purchased, we have a greater appreciation for the piece and a much greater respect as well as admiration for the people who created it.

Laos Day #6

Saturday 30 January started off very cool. The temperature during the night had gotten down to 14C (57F). It made for a very refreshing start to the morning. Duang chose to remain in the relative warmth of our bed underneath the comforter and a special Chinese blanket. The Chinese blanket was the same type that we had seen used in some of the minority people villages. The blanket was made out of a felt type synthetic material and about 5/8" thick - making it very heavy. The blanket was also decorated with very garish colors - predominately reds. All told, I was even glad that we had that blanket the previous night.

I left our cottage at 7:00 A.M. and walked to the Vat (Wat in Thai) in Ban Khone which is close to the hotel. There was a fog bordering on being a light mist. People were congregating in small groups outside of their homes getting warm from small wood fires built on the bare ground. Once again my morning's walking experience gave evidence to the open and friendly disposition of the Lao people. People walking, riding bicycles, riding on motorbikes, and squatting around their home fire gave me smiles and "sabai-dii" (Lao "Hello"). Walking provides so much more dimension to travel. The slow pace of walking exposes you to the sounds, smells, as well as the intricate details of the area through which you pass. You also are exposed to more intimate contact with the local people. Travel by truck, car, motorbike, or bus will cover more ground and cover the ground more quickly but it doesn't seem like you have been there unless you put your boots or, as is so often the case here in Southeast Asia, put your flip flops on the ground.

I arrived at the Vat, Buddhist temple, after most of the Monks had apparently left on their daily alms walk. Several young Monks ranging in age from 15 to 20 years old milling around in the fog. The chickens and roosters that live on the Vat grounds were busy greeting the morning and leaving their roosts in the many trees and shrubs that grow throughout the compound. At 7:00 A.M. the Lao public radio started broadcasting on the large speaker mounted in one of the large trees of the Vat. There was some ethnic music and what seemed to be a reading of the daily news. Shortly later two separate groups of younger Monks returned with food offerings from their early morning alms walk. I assume that the older Monks had finished their walk prior to my arrival at the Vat. However, I did see one of the older Monks look into a very young Monk's bowl to see what he had brought back - sort of like checking out a younger brother's trick or treat bag on Halloween night.

The Monks were shy so it was not easy to get meaningful photographs. Some of the older Monks were doing morning chores - sweeping out their houses, and carrying water to the outhouse. Most of the Monks were occupied keeping an eye on me, trying to figure out what I was up to,and ensuring that I could not photograph their face. Two Monks, about 8 years old, were busy playing a game with a woven rattan ball - perhaps Takawh without a net. I often find it ironic that these "holy men" quite often can be seen behaving just like so many of the other young boys of their same age. In Laos, and to a lesser extent, Thailand, the Vats and Wats offer an opportunity to poor boys to obtain a higher education for free. One of our new Lao friends, had attended the same Vat from when he was 9 years old until he was 18. At the side of the Vat grounds was a fairly large two story building - the Vat's school.


I wandered around the Vat grounds and eventually made my way to the village outside of the back gate to the Vat. Upon my return on to the Vat grounds, I heard some voices. I peered over a bamboo fence and saw several Monks huddled around a small fire. They were trying to get warm and in deep conversation - perhaps theology? I said "Sabai dii" and asked their permission to photograph them. They indicated that there was no problem. I took several and I am optimistic that this aspect of a Monk's life is not often seen.

I returned to the hotel, showered with plenty of hot water from the solar water heating system, and enjoyed breakfast with my wife. The hotel manager was not there so we made arrangements with the receptionist to hire Mr Kpmpak and his van for the next day so that we could attend the Lanten New Year celebration in Ban Pakha. Just as in Isaan, news travels quickly and far in Luang Namtha, Duang and I returned to our cottage - Duang resting in the bedroom and I writing at the desk in the front room. I heard a voice letting us know that someone was coming - a sing song type lilt used by peddlers when they are making their rounds through Baan Chorada where our home is located. It was Kuhn Khone, and his 11 month old daughter, Soolani. She was all bundled up against the morning chill and clutching a large balloon from the local festival. She was just too precocious in her little pink hat with ears at the sides to ignore so I hauled out the cameras and started taking photographs. She was a very easy and willing model. We all had a good time. Khun Khone had heard that we were traveling to Ban Pahka the next day and inquired if he could accompany us. Without hesitation we gladly agreed. He had been so helpful and kind to us that we were happy to help him out.

After his visit, Duang and I headed out on our first walk of the day. We first stopped at the rice milling "plant" to the right of the Boat Landing Guest House towards the Acrow style bridge spanning the Nam Tha River. The miller has been busy with all sorts of rice deliveries to the mill. These are not huge shipments but are deliveries from local people - deliveries by motorbike, push carts, the ubiquitous Chinese farm trucks 5 HP and 10 HP variety and some of the more modern small farm trucks - approximately 1 to 2 ton rated capacity. Often the farmer's family will accompany him on the trip to the mill. I was able to take several photos of "The Farmer's Daughters" as they waited in their 10 HP Chinese farm truck. The people wait their turn. When it is their time, they dump their rice out of their bags into a square hole in the floor. A vertical conveyor elevates the rice to the top of the milling machine where gravity is utilized to feed the grain through the process. The hulled rice exits the bottom of the milling machine on to a short horizontal conveyor that feeds another enclosed vertical conveyor that fed a chute which dumped the finished product into an awaiting grain bag - the same bags that were used to bring the grain to the mill. just as in Isaan where the rice thresher is paid with a certain percentage of the finished product, the miller kept his share. In the back and side of his milling room (plant?), there were high stacks of filled 100 Kg bags of milled rice. The milling plant was extremely interesting - it was filled with many large cobwebs that had captured the dust generated by the milling process and nearby dirt road for unknown days, weeks, or perhaps months or longer. Exposed drive belts offered a constant source of potential accidents. Standard safety equipment and practises often required in similar American facilities were no where to be seen. This was a down to the basics, one person facility - minimally fit for purpose. A facility where a local person was providing his neighbors with a necessary and valuable service. About 4 kilometers away alongside the main road into town, I saw another similar milling plant. No doubt there would have been more of these small independent plants if I had looked more carefully and more widely.



From the milling plant, we walked back to the paved main road and a very short ways towards the new part of Luang Namtha to Ban Khone where the Vat I had visited earlier in the morning. The Monks were now accustomed to me so photographing them was much easier. Unfortunately the Vat was locked and the Monks we spoke to did not have the key. We grabbed a passing taxi truck and rode into town. After having lunch at a local restaurant, I withdrew 700,000 KIP from my bank account back in California. The world has changed so dramatically in such a relatively short time.

In 1973, I obtained an American Express card for the sole purpose of making foreign currency purchases by credit card during my first overseas trip - a trip to Europe. At the time the only alternative was to carry Traveler's Checks. Today I am able to be in a small town in northwest Laos, use my American ATM card to get funds from my account in California, and check the current balance of the US account - a small town that was leveled during the Second Indochina War, 1973 to 1975 - amazing!

So ended our morning of our sixth day in Laos. The day was one-half over with a full afternoon remaining but that will be subject of a different blog.

Laos Day #5 - A Day In Luang Namtha

After our full and exhausting day to Xieng Kok on Thursday, Duang and I decided to relax and "catch up" on Friday 29 January. Duang caught up on her sleep and I caught up on my journal.

While Duang slept, I had my breakfast and wrote in my journal. It is very easy to fall behind in maintaining a journal especially when there are so many interesting sights, and people to write about. Kees joined me prior to his departure to go on his photo assignment of the Lanten wedding. It had been a surprise as well as a pleasure to see him again in such wonderful surroundings.

Later in the morning, Duang and I attended the local festival. At 11:00 A.M. Jorgon and Helga drove us out to the Vat (Wat in Thailand) in their camper. We were somewhat disappointed. Just as we were surprised at the small size of the Luang Namtha Night Market, we were surprised at how small the festival was. We climbed the staiway from the dirt road up to That Phum Phuk (That Phoum Phoul) and were rewarded with some nice views of the Luang Namtha Valley.

During the Second Indochina War, the stupa of the Vat was toppled by a bomb blast which occurred during fighting between Communist troops and Royal Lao troops. The ruins of the toppled stupa now provide an interesting climbing experience for local children as well as many of the young Monks, who are often not much older than the village children. A replacement stupa was built alongside the ruins in 2003.

The festival consisted mainly of several small booths selling food, snacks, soft drinks, and beer. In the end of the festival furthest from the stupa was an area set up as a beer garden complete with a stage and powerful sound system. Unfortunately, we had arrived after the performance of local minority dances. There were several booths where anyone, children, Monks, as well as adults could throw three metal darts at air filled balloons placed within vertical wooden trays. If a person burst three balloons they won a small container of soy milk or some other type of soft drink. The booths were doing a very good business. Gambling is legal in Laos unlike in Thailand where it is banned. From this trip to Laos I can report that they start them young. Many times we saw 7 and 8 year olds trying their luck or rather testing their skill. Another common sight at the festival was a small child enjoying the simple pleasure of a helium balloon tethered to their hand.


After walking along the two aisles of booths three times, Duang and I sat down at one of the food booths. I ate some squid flavored potato chip type snacks while Duang had a plate of chicken feet to munch on. We shared what eventually became three bottles Beer Lao - the excellent Lao beer brewed in Vientiane. We sat listening to the mahlam lao and mahlam sing music blaring from the beer garden while we watched the world, or at least this small part of the world go by. After awhile 5 middle aged men strolled by and nodded "Hello". By their demeanor, haircuts, slacks, and cotton solid colored pastel shirts, I knew that they were government officials.

After a couple of hours we decided to return to the hotel. We passed two tables with plastic chairs under a canopy where the five men along with three officers of the Lao People's Army were enjoying themselves. Just past their location, as we approached the exit, Duang left me to go to the bathroom. As I stood waiting for her to return, one of the men came with a plastic chair and motioned for me to sit. Since it was already getting quite warm and my camera backpack was heavy, I gladly accepted his invitation. He left but quickly returned with a glass of Lao Lao, the very potent rice whiskey popular in Laos as well as Isaan. Having lived in Vietnam for awhile I was familiar with party and Party protocol - party etiquette and Communist Party etiquette. I accepted the offer and took my glass over to the table where the dignitaries were seated. I thanked them in Thai and toasted them in Lao to their shock and amazement. Fortunately a Lao toast is one of the few Lao terms that I know. By now Duang had joined us and she was treated to their hospitality - a glass with some Lao Lao. She spoke a little to the men explaining that I was from America and that I was visiting for one week. We thanked them and headed towards the gate. I then remembered about certain laws in Laos. Foreigners are not allowed to "fraternize", "be with" (as in the Biblical sense), or be intimate with Lao women. I suppose that such laws may also apply to relations with Lao men, but I never cared or researched that aspect. If a foreigner wants to marry a Lao woman, they have to apply and request permission from the Lao government. Duang is often mistaken for being Lao in our travels and I wanted to ensure that there were no misconceptions regarding our status or perhaps it was the effect of our beer and Lao Lao, so I returned to the dignitaries and explained in Thai and pantomime that they did not have to worry - Duang was Thai not Lao, we were married, and they did not have to take me to jail. We all had a big laugh and said good bye one last time.

We returned to our hotel and found that Mr Thone had brought his 11 month old daughter to the reception area. We spent some time playing with her and photographing her before returning to our cottage. After two hours of cleaning camera gear and writing in my journal I went for a walk.


Outside of the hotel in the gravel parking lot, local boys were having a cock fight. Cock fighting has deep and long traditions in Southeast Asia. It is not illegal here. This was the second cock fight that I had witnessed. I had watched my first fight in Tahsang Village. Unlike what I had read about cock fights the first fight as well as this one was not a bloody or fatal affair. In the first fight, the spurs on the roosters leg were taped to prevent them from being used as weapons. In Laos there were not any spurs on the rooster's legs. True to form, I found this fight to be as boring as the first one. In Laos the fight consisted of two twenty minute rounds. I had arrived towards the end of the second round. I don't know if it was actually at the end of twenty minutes or not, but it was obvious to me which rooster had won - the other one pretty much given up although both animals were tired from their jumping around and pecking. The boys mercifully declared the winner, grabbed each rooster, split into two groups and went their separate ways on bicycles. I continued on my walk.

I walked to the bridge, an Acrow type structure, spanning the Namtha River. I never made it all the way across the bridge. Down below my perch at the start of the bridge, a fisherman was cleaning off his throwing net on his way back home in the late afternoon. Across the river, women were busy washing laundry, and bathing in the shallow water below their village. Truckloads of farmers and harvested broom plant crossed the bridge on their way back to their villages. As the heavier vehicles crossed the bridge, the bridge bounced up and down from the moving loads. One of the smaller farm trucks, the 10 HP type, did not have enough power to cross the bridge so men were assisting it by pushing it up the slight rise towards the middle of the bridge. Bicyclists were a major part of the bridge traffic that afternoon. All this made for interesting photography and observation of daily village life in a remote rural area of Laos.




For a relaxing and a "catch up" day, Friday turned out to be another satisfying day. It had been another day of surprises and an opportunity to observe as well as learn about daily life in Laos - a beautiful land inhabited by extraordinary people.

New Photo Gallery Available

A new photo gallery "Monks In the Morning" is now available for viewing.

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Laos Day #3 - A Restful But Another Busy Day

27 January 2010 Wednesday - I enjoyed a 12 hour sleep, Duang ended up sleeping 14 hours - no matter where you are there is nothing as soothing for sleep than than the sound of gentle rain on the roof. In Luang Namtha it is even better because the rain keeps the roosters quiet. I always thought that roosters crowed at the break of dawn - it is true, but from this trip I learned that they also crow at 1:00 A.M., 2:00 A. M., 3:00 A. M. - anytime that they choose. It is a little annoying but adds to ambiance of staying in a woven bamboo cottage over looking the Namtha River - a sort of Lao village experience but absent the requirement to bathe in the river like the real villagers.

I got up at 7:30 A. M. 7:30 A. M.? 12 hours of sleep? Yes! The sun sets early and there was no TV in the cottage. Just like when camping, you tend to follow the sun in the hours that remain awake. I had an excellent breakfast of pancakes with sweet condensed milk on them. I enjoyed a glass of fresh orange juice - freshly squeezed just before I was served it. Just like in Brasil, fresh orange juice is squeezed from several oranges and is not poured out of a wax box, out of a frozen can of concentrate, or poured out of a plastic bottle. It is 100% real juice - one of life's pleasures for sure.

I remained in the combination dining room-reception area-tour booking office and worked on my journal. So many different and interesting things have happened that it is an effort to maintain the journal but it is necessary to capture the moments accurately. Maintaining a journal is also an effective means of slowing you down as well as getting you to relax. As Duang sleeps, I use the "down time" to write and in the process my body is recovering from the previous day's efforts.

On this morning Mr. Thone, The Boat Landing's General Manager joined me at my table. He speaks excellent English and was involved in the early formation of the Boat Landing Guest House and Restaurant in Luang Namtha. He was extremely helpful in making arrangements and advising us about the area. After bouncing around and smelling exhaust gases from our "taxi" all day the previous day, I had come to the conclusion that our planned day to the market at Xieng Kok was just not feasible. I didn't know about Duang but I knew that I didn't and perhaps could not stand another 2 hours additional travel each way in the back of the small truck from Muang Sing to Xieng Kok. There was a Toyota tour van parked in the parking lot while I was speaking with Mr. Thone. It was very similar to the vehicles used to transport up to 11 tourists on guided tours in South East Asia. Mr Thone indicated that I could hire the van and driver for the day. The cost would be $130 USD for the day. I thought about the cost and hesitated. I then thought about the probability of returning to Luang Namtha in the future, the costs involved in returning and so forth. I then decided to go ahead and hire the driver and van. Duang joined us and we had a long conversation with Mr. Thone.

Upon our arrival at the Boat Landing Guest House and Restaurant, we had noticed an orange camper, I believed it is called an "Overland" in Europe, parked in the parking area. We didn't pay it much mind believing that it had something to do with the nearby vacant government building used for boat tours when the river runs higher starting in June. The Namtha River was approximately 4 meters (12 feet) below the elevation of the guest house facilities. From watching people cleaning and playing in the river, it appeared to currently be about one meter deep (3 feet) maximum. We learned from Mr Thone that in 2003 the river had rose so much that there was 1.3 meters (4 feet) flooding the facilities. The rainy season makes a very big difference in the river's height as well as flow.

After awhile I noticed that there were people staying inside the vehicle. Eventually a man and a woman left the van and entered into the restaurant. It is strange but you seem to be able to quickly assess people just by observing them for a short period of time especially if they are unawares. Duang and I saw many tourists who seemed to have bad attitudes. We both came to the conclusion that these people were "jai dai" - nice people with good hearts. As we headed back to our room to prepare for the remainder of the day, they said "Hello" to us. We stopped at their table and quickly were engaged in very animated conversation. Jurgen and Helga are not tourists - they are "travelers". When I worked in Malaysia, a bunch of us guys would head out into the countryside on our only day off from work often not really knowing where we wanted to go. We developed the philosophy that we were "travelers" - travelers go places and do things that "tourists" don't. Well Jurgen and Helga were definitely "TRAVELERS" - they left Germany 6 months ago and DROVE to Laos on their way eventually to Australia. They had traveled through Turkey, Iran, India, Pakistan, Tibet, and China. They plan on traveling another year. As we spoke with them of all things as well as matters great and small, our initial impression of them was reinforced. Besides being extremely interesting people, they are very nice people. We informed them of our plans to go to the market in Xieng Kok the next morning and invited them to join us for the day. They accepted and wanted to know how much the trip would cost so that they could share the costs. I told them the cost but told them that whether they came with us or not we were going to do it. I told them that they could pay only what they cared to and that I was not going even count what they pay. I did not want to taint our friendship based upon a judgement of how much they would help. I kept my word and I am content with that.

We went to our cottage and picked up our gear for the day. We had hired our taxi and driver from the previous two days for the afternoon. We picked up our lunch at the hotel restaurant - sandwiches and home made banana bread wrapped in banana leaves - no wax paper or plastic to clutter the environment. Since the leaves were biodegradable, there were no qualms in tossing them over the side of the Taxi truck as we bounced along once more on a dirt road headed for another village.


Our first stop of the afternoon was at Soptud Village, a Lanten settlement. Part of the dirt road was being repaired and we came upon a large compact roller parked on the side of the village road. Small children were clamoring all over the large machine pretending that they were working. A friend of mine back in the USA involved with worker lawsuits sometimes comments on the lack of safety equipment shown in some of my photographs - such as no safety harnesses, and no hard hats. Well this crew violated even more safe practices - no sturdy work boots, no safety glasses, and for one little boy - NO PANTS. On this trip we came upon many young children, mainly young boys, without adequate clothing. Fortunately the weather was warm during the day although night temperatures went down to the high 50s F (14 C).

One of the villages that we visited was a Khmu settlement called Baan Sopsim. As so often occurs on our travels, interesting things were going on in the village just about where ever you were willing to look. We stopped in the center of the village in front of some women with their daughters - busy embroidering and caring for babies. We quickly attracted some of the village children - curious and to a certain degree cautious of foreign visitors. For most of the children it was not very long before their curiosity exceeded their caution.

We heard noise from across the road and we crossed over to investigate. Underneath a low thatched lean-to structure attached to the side of one of the homes, several Khmu men were busy fabricating knives and spear guns. It was so interesting that I will dedicate a separate blog entry just to the "village blacksmiths".

The remainder of our afternoon was spent in visiting a forest cemetery and silk weavers in the Thai Dahm (Black Thai) village of Baan Pahsak. Again there is too much information and photographs to share in this edition of the blog and will be subjects in future blog(s).