A Morning In Isaan

Rice Drying Out In The Morning Sun

 Monday morning Duang asked me to take her back out to her home village for the second day in a row.  She is working with her cousin to make new slip covers for our patio furniture and the task is taking longer than she expected.  I suspected that she knew that I would be less than enthusiastic to make the trip because she told me to bring my camera because we could visit our grandson at his school in Kumphawapi.  Her strategy was very effective - we left early in the morning, I carried my cameras and wore a smile on my face.



Pre-Schoolers (3 and 4 year olds)  Line Up for Start of the Morning Classes

We arrived at Peelawat's school just in time for the start of the day at 8:30 A.M.  The school is a large public school in Kumphawapi.  There are 1,400 students ranging in age from 3 (pre-school) to 15 (ninth grade).  Since it was a clear day, all students congregated and eventually assembled in the central courtyard.

The central courtyard was a concrete paved area dotted with trees, concrete benches, with several sections that had flowers and ornamental plants.  Portions of the paved area were set up with posts where badminton, volleyball, and takraw could be played.  There were also several stalls where students could buy food, drinks, and ice cream.  Our grandson, Peelawat, always asks for 5 Baht ($0.15 USD) to take to school to buy food.  The school provides milk free of charge to the pre-schoolers.

The school has a band comprised of bass drum, snare drums, xylophones, along with mouth organs (small plastic keyboards powered by blowing air into them through a plastic tube).  At the appointed time the band marched into place and there was a flag raising ceremony.  All the students sang the Thai National Anthem.  Afterwards there was a Buddhist prayer.  Thailand is 97% Buddhist and Buddhism is actually the state religion.  However the country is tolerant of other religions.  I have visited mosques in Bangkok, and attended Christian ceremonies here in Isaan.  I have also seen Mormon Missionaries here in Udonthani.

Pre-School Students and Classroom, Kumphawapi - No Furniture to Get Hurt On

Pre-Schooler's Bookbags

At the conclusion of the prayer the little children walked off to class with their teachers.  The older children seated on the concrete by individual classes, did some warm up type exercises for arms, hands, fingers and shoulders.  The school Principal; then addressed the student body.  He started slowly and gently about having the older students look out for and after the young students. he then built up to saying that too many students were not brushing their teeth and not washing their hands after lunch.  he built up to a crescendo about four "Naughty" boys had to go see him after the assembly along with their teachers as well as parents - apparently. according to Duang, the boys had been caught with video games at school.  The Principal was definitely not happy.

On our way back to the truck, I saw one of the teachers inspecting his students one by one.  Most students passed inspection and were given a nod as they passed.  Some students were subjected to a closer inspection, some passed and some others were told  something and received a swat across their backside.  Each teacher carried a one meter long and about 12mm diameter bamboo rod - something like the pointers that some teachers used for the blackboard when I went to school.  However here in Isaan the "pointer" was more versatile.  For the pre-schoolers it was used to help position the students where they needed to be.  For the older students it was used to strike them when they misbehaved or to humiliate them for infractions.  Yes, there is still striking of students, corporal punishment, in schools - at least here in Isaan.  The striking that I saw would no way near come close to causing injury or even pain but was humiliating for sure.  Personally I find that a little humiliation is a small price, especially a cost that be easily avoided, to learn that there are consequences to our actions or lack of action.

We stopped by Peelawat's classroom to see what it was like.  It was very clean and well organized.  It did not have any furniture for the students.  The students sat on the floor to learn their lessons.  This is just like most of their their homes - no tables, chairs of desks.  Outside of the classroom there was a rack where all the students had placed their shoes before entering the classroom.  On one wall of the classroom student's book bags were neatly hung.  The bags are used to transport their homework assignments to and from school.  Homework?  Yes, even at 3 years old, students have homework.

We spoke with Peelawat's teacher to determine how he is doing in class.  We knew that he was a good boy and behaved well.  However he is also very shy so there was some concern that he might not be learning as much as he could by not fully participating.  His teacher assured us that he was doing fine.  She informed this as she was multi-tasking.  Three and four year olds at the pre-school are toilet trained but for some boys, zippers and buttons remain a challenge.  A little boy had gone to the bathroom but was returning to the classroom with his shorts unzipped, unbuttoned and on the verge of falling to his knees.  With some help, actually she did it all, he was squared away at the classroom doorway and happily rejoined his classmates.

I Can Get By  - With A Little Help from My Teacher

From the school we drove out to Tahsang Village.  A relative wanted me to take a photograph of her second grand-daughter.  I had taken a photograph of her first grand-daughter, Kwan, and given her an 8 x 10 print, so she wanted one of her other grandchild.  No problem - I don't mind keeping my models happy.

The relatives, who live across the street, more aptly "wide sidewalk" from the "Inside" Wat were busy.  I pulled in to the Wat to park and was greeted by smiling, laughing, and exuberant relatives.  Were they happy to see their falang relative?  Perhaps.  Were they happy because although it was 10:00 A.M. they had been drinking "Lao Lao" (whiskey - a sort of moonshine)?  More likely!

Rice Drying In the Morning Sun at the "Inside" Wat, Tahsang Village

The men and some of the women were busy with the rice harvest. They had spread the ubiquitous blue netting on the ground at the Wat across the street to dry in the sun.  Much of the rice had already been collected and bagged prior to our arrival.  The men were loading the filled bags on to a wagon that would be pulled by a lowt thai lek across the street to their home.

Gentleman, Start Your Engine!

The guys started to tease me about taking photographs and not helping them to load up the wagon with the 50 kg bags.  I told them that I was a foreigner and that I could not work; the police would take me to jail.  As a condition of my Visa to stay in Thailand, I am not allowed to work in Thailand. Although true, everyone in the family also knows that it is my favorite excuse for not performing manual labor under the hot glaring sun.  the men were all in a great mood and kept up teasing until I finally gave in.  Just prior to giving in I saw a partially filled bag amongst the stack.  It was about 10 kg.  I went over and picked it up with one hand in such a fashion as to convey "So what is the big deal about loading up the wagon?"   The guys immediately caught on and pointed out that I needed to do a full bag.  I obliged and hoisted a 50kg bag on to my shoulder, walked over to the wagon, and placed it on top of the stack.  After overcoming the initial shock that I did, or perhaps that I could do it, the men all decided that it was time to go across the street for another drink - including me.  Since I was driving and you can not count on other people to follow the driving laws let alone staying out of your way when you may be driving impaired, I declined the Lao Lao and settled for a glass of Pepsi.

Filling the Family Granary

We crossed the street followed shortly by the filled wagon of rice sacks.  As happens in every family, there was one man who was not fully, if at all, to the physical labor.  Everyone was r
teasing him about it.  Strangely enough, when I started taking photographs of the other men working, he decided to help.  Well in all the activity that was going on, I did not get a shot of the one bag that he off loaded.  I told everyone that my camera was not fast enough to catch him working and that I needed my movie camera which was at home. Duang translated and every one roared with laughter.  I guess that it was a pretty good joke because I was offered whiskey once again which I declined.  The man subject to all our joking was sitting down and complaining ( I suspect jokingly) about hurting his shoulder.  I asked where and he pointed it out.  I drew closer to him and blew on it three times like I do when our grandson shows me his injuries.  This is similar to what some Monks do in a healing ritual.  I also gave him a little massage and told him that he was OK now to go back to work.  There was more laughter, and offers to drink whiskey.  He did do another bag and I did get his photograph.

With His Pakama Wrapped Around His Waist, A Villager Hauls A Sack of Rice

The sacks were carried from the wagon to the family granary - an elevated composite structure of wood and corrugated metal.  In the countryside of Isaan, you will see these structures at almost every Lao Loum home.  The year long supply of rice for the family and the seeds for next year's rice crop are stored in them.  I noticed some holes in this one and asked if they were going to fatten up some rats for Duang's mother to cook.  Last week she cooked a rat and offered Duang to eat some.  Duang refused.  I double checked to ensure that I understood correctly.  According to Duang people do not eat "small rats" (I am assuming she means mice) but they eat "big rat like chicken, big rat eat sugar cane" which sounds like your typical rats running around rice paddies, cane fields, and granaries.  Every one had another good laugh.

Another Sack, All In A Morning's Work

Milling Rice In the Morning At Tahsang Village

The morning was getting on but I wanted to show Duang the miller that I had visited earlier in the morning.  While Duang was paying her respects to her mother an father, I had wandered around the village to see what was going on.  It was so quiet because all the children 3 years and older were off at school, that I could hear the sound of some  machines.  I had a good idea what it was and followed the sounds to the backyard of the villager who mills rice.  This will be the subject of an upcoming blog, "Miller Time ...  In Isaan".  I had photographed a couple of years ago and earlier in the morning.  I had left to get more of my gear but had been delayed getting back to him because of the family next to the Wat.  The miller had finished his work, but I got to take more shots of the equipment while Duang talked to him - there is always something to talk about with just about anyone or everyone here in Isaan.

Scavenging For Scrap Metal

Duang was concerned about me getting too tired from the past two days of photography in the hot weather and admonished me to not stop on the way home.  I told her that I would listen - "a little bit".
Although I did not plan on stopping along the way, circumstances did not cooperate.  Once again opportunity presented itself to my curiosity.

Just outside of Kumphawapi is a sugar refinery.  Across the road from the refinery is a large vacant piece of land where the solid waste from the sugar refining process is dumped.  The waste is a very black sandy type organic soil that farmers use to fertilize their fields.  The waste is very smelly - an almost sickening sweet pungent odor; so smelly that Duang and I refer to it as "kee oi" (sugar shit).  Several times as we have passed the area, there have been many people going over the piles of waste.  I asked Duang why as well what they were doing.  She told me that they were looking for mushrooms.  Well this time there must have been 4 times the number of people that I have ever seen on the piles.  The sugar harvest is just barely getting started so the piles were not all that big.  By the end of the season the pile will be about 8 meters high and at least 200 meters by 200 meters.

I pulled over to the side of the dirt road perimeter of the area and parked amongst the somlaws, motorbikes, and pick up trucks.  I quickly determined that the people were not looking for mushrooms but were picking scrap metal out of the piles.  The piles this day were not just sugar refining waste but included concrete debris, industrial debris, rubber machine belts, bamboo, plastic sheeting and garbage - s if an industrial plant was being demolished and dumped on the field.  Despite the sugar shit odor there was also the smells of cow dung and palaa (at least 6 month old fermented fish) - not all that pleasant an environment to photograph in but it was new and different to me.  The people were friendly and I asked if they had found any gold and communicated to them with pantomime and my limited vocabulary that I wanted to find some gold.  We all shared a laugh, most likely at my expense, but it is such a small price to be able to photograph a part of other people's lives.

In the USA, there are special days when people are encouraged to bring their children to work.  I always smile at that concept for here in Southeast Asia everyday is bring your child to work day if not have your child work with you.  Small children are brought out to the cane fields, rice paddies, and on this morning out to the dump.  There was one little boy who was neither amused or pleased with my presence.  He was around a year and one-half.  He at first cried when he saw me but after being consoled by his mother just kept a weary stare at me for the entire time that i was there.  Luckily I had a longer lens on one of my cameras so as they say here it was "Good for me, good for him".  I was able to get my photographs without getting closer to him.

A Nice Drink of Water In the Morning

As Their Son Keeps His Eyes On Me. A Family Looks For Scrap Metal

It had been quite an interesting morning here in Isaan and as I drove back to our home listening to the ethnic Lao music I could not help but reflect upon what I had seen as well as experienced.  For Americans, tomorrow is Thanksgiving a day when people gather to give thanks for their blessings.  It has always been one of my favorite holidays, not necessarily for all the wonderful food and drink, but the realization of the things that matter in your life.  Although we do not celebrate it in our home here in Isaan, I am thankful on Thanksgiving and every other day for the blessings that I have received past, present, and anticipated in the future.  One of the blessings being "A Morning In Isaan" and another - still being excited by as well as interested in the life around me.

Threshing Time

Golden Rice Pours Out of Threshing Machine

Driving along the country roads of Isaan this and last week, you will see many activities in the parched golden rice paddies.  The first indication of what may be ahead as you travel is three to five motorbikes parked along the paved road or just off of the road.

Looking at the paddies beyond the congregation of bikes, you will observe colorfully dressed Lao Loum people cutting rice, stacking sheaves of rice that has dried in the field for about a week, and threshing rice. The people are fully clothed for protection from the sun, dust, and irritation of dry plant materials.

Since the rainy season ended about three or four weeks ago the fields are dry and dusty.  If the farmers are threshing the rice the air is filled with chaff.  To avoid inhaling dust and chaff the farmers typically wrap a soccer jersey around their face leaving just a narrow slot for their eyes.  One benefit to the end of the rainy season is that we often have brilliant blue sky now.  The combination of brilliant blue sky, yellow straw, golden grain and various color schemes of the worker's clothing presents many interesting photography opportunities.

As Children Watch, Rice Is Threshed In the Field

To thresh the rice the farmers contact a person who has a truck mounted threshing machine.  The truck mounted threshing machine go from paddy to paddy all day long with the emphasis on speed.  The farmers typically compensate the owner of the thresher with a share of the resulting rice.  Typically the fee for threshing is one 50kg bag of rice for every 20 bags threshed.  For 100 bags threshed the fee is typically 4 bags.

To minimize the time that the thresher stays at their paddies, the farmers spread a large fine mesh blue net on a flat piece of round.  The rice that had been spread flat out in the paddies to dry in the sun are bundled into sheaves.  The sheaves are gathered and transported to the blue net.  The sheaves are piled high on top of the blue net.  Any rice kernels that separate in the rough handling of the sheaves falls on to the net and at the end of the threshing is bagged.  The threshing machine typically has a two man crew.  One man sits on the side of the machine behind a cantilevered shelf on the machine.  His job is to manually feed the sheaves, that are thrown on to the shelf by the farmers, into the machine.  His partner monitors the various exposed belts and pulleys of the threshing machine to ensure smooth operation.  The second crewman also repositions the chaff shoot as necessary during the threshing operation as well as monitoring the engine.  Together the two man crew sets up and dismantles the machine for transport.

The separated rice grain streams out the end of the threshing machine in a golden flow into 50 kg bags.  The filled bags are carried to the edge of the blue net where one of the farmers closes them and ties them off with thin strips of bamboo.  Once the threshing is completed, the number of filled bags is tallied and the thresher takes his fee before he sets off to his next appointment.

A Woman Ties Off Filled Bags

The farmers then load up the remaining bags of rice on to farm wagons or trucks to be transported to their home.  The bags are offloaded and placed in elevated small storage sheds next to their house.  Eventually most of the rice will be taken to a miller to remove the husk but that is subject of a blog to be written soon.

For some people who have too small a crop to afford mechanized threshing, threshing their rice is done the old fashioned way; by hand.  When Duang was young she threshed rice by hand with her family.

Threshing Rice The Old Fashioned Way

Just outside of Tahsang Village I came upon a man and his wife threshing rice by hand.  I found it very interesting so I stopped to learn about it and to photograph it.  Just as with the farmers who were using a mechanized thresher, these farmers had laid out a blue net and placed their sheaves upon it.  The man used two pieces of bamboo that had cotton rope which connected them together - sort of like "nunchucks".  Two pieces of bamboo connected with cotton string?  I had seen that once before!!  It was during the event that I documented in my blog entry, "Two Funerals and an Excorcism", that I saw young village men using smaller versions of this device to capture the "Phii Ling" (Monkey Ghosts) that had infested their village. http://www.hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2011/01/two-funerals-and-excorcism.html  Life can be seen as a serious of isolated events much like the pages of a coloring book with a collection numbered dots.  I still find great satisfaction and joy in being able to connect today's dots to see the depth and magic in current events just as the child connects the numbered dots to discover a hidden picture.  Coloring the ensuing revelation, or in my case photographing it, only adds to the wonder.  Last week's connections of the Royal Barges to the paintings at the Grand Palace and further back to the Thai Epic, "The Ramakian" is another example.

The farmer was very skilled in using the device to select a sheave from the pile, secure the selected sheave, lift the sheave high over his head and flail the sheave four to five times against the ground and growing mound of free rice kernels.  With a quick movement of his wrists. the farmer released the sheave of straw flying to a growing pile of waste.

A Sheaf of Straw Is Sent Flying

The Pile of Rice Grows As Spent Sheaf Is Discarded

Farm Wagon Awaits A Pecious Cargo - Next Year's Food

The normal 40 minute drive from Tahsang Village to our home in Udonthani ended up taking 3 hours on Sunday.  Three great stops to observe the threshing had lengthened the duration of the journey.  The time spent to observe and photograph was for me a worthwhile investment to learn and better understand the life of the Lao Loum farmer here in Isaan.

Another Isaan Funeral - "Same Same But Different"

Yesterday, Monday 22 February, my plans and intentions for the day were interrupted. It was my intention as well as plan to complete a blog about our experiences on our last day in Laos during our recent trip to Luang Namtha. However, we needed to take care of family business and obligations. One of Duang's uncles, 82 years old from Tahsang Village, had died three days previously and his cremation ritual was to be held at 13:00 yesterday afternoon in Tahsang Village. Duang and I were going to go out to the village after I had my lunch at 11:00 A.M., but we got a call early in the morning from her cousin asking why we had not arrived so we ended up leaving our home earlier in the morning. Duang had 23 Aunts and Uncles but they are all getting to the end stage of this life. This was the second funeral for a close relative that we have attended in the very recent past. Another Uncle has been in the hospital three times in the past week and a half so we suspect that there will be another funeral soon.

I have written about Isaan funerals twice before so for this blog I will focus on the generalities and unique aspects of this particular ritual.

Upon arriving at the Uncle's home, we were greeted and invited to sit down. Food from the the outside kitchen set up in the side yard was brought to us as well as all other guests upon their arrival. The loudspeaker system announced the offerings that each guest had made to be given to the Monks as part of the merit making ritual associated with the funeral. Next door and up against a low cinder block wall, in a neighbor's weed strewn yard, a group of 10 people were busy gambling. The gambling was similar to the game that we had observed in Laos late last month. It was a combination of roulette and dice. However in this game the dice were not released to tumble down in an open wood box. For this game the dice were placed on a plate and covered with a small woven reed bowl. After all the bets were placed on the plastic pictorial betting sheet, an elderly woman shook the plate-bowl assembly once, placed it carefully back on the ground, and slowly removed the bowl to reveal the results. The action was hot and heavy. One woman had won 3,000 baht the previous day - almost $100. Although gambling is illegal in Thailand, according to Duang everyone plays cards (gambles) in Isaan at a funeral and the police do not complain. I asked her why they gamble at funerals and she told me because there isn't live music. At the anniversary of a person's death, there is typically a stage show and at those occasions there is no gambling. If people gamble and it is not a funeral, the police will arrest or "fine" the people. Just as many aspects of religion, this can not be fully explained, or fully understood. It is what it is and you are left to accept or not accept it.

This was the first Isaan funeral for a man that I have attended. Funerals for men and women are structurally the same however most differences are related to the social and economic status of the deceased. People in Isaan buy life insurance. When a person dies, the insurance company immediately pays the proceeds of the policy - typically around 100,000 baht ($3,000 USD). The money is used to help pay for the funeral. Besides paying for the rental of the refrigerated coffin used for the three days that the body lays in state, the money pays for food, drink (alcohol and soft drinks), cash offerings to the Monks, and other offerings to the Monks such as robes, blankets, candles, and the ubiquitous plastic pails filled with personal hygiene and personal care items for Monks. Some money is also placed in envelopes for selected guests to offer to the Monks in the name of the deceased thereby making merit for themselves as well as the deceased.

Duang's Uncle had quite a bit of land so there much more offerings given than I had witnessed at the previous two funerals. During this ritual, approximately 30 orange hand towels were to be offered to the Monks as part of the ritual. The towels along with other offerings were placed on a table at the foot of one of the stairways leading up to the furnace entrance of the crematorium where the closed coffin was placed. The ritual was overseen by the man's cousin who is an Abbott of a local Wat. For protection from the strong sun, the Abbott carried a large silver umbrella which had "Some people know the difference". "Some people know the difference"? A Buddhist mantra? A Buddhist belief? Noooo ... it was a marketing statement that was related to the logo on the other side of the umbrella - "Jack Daniels No. 7". Just as Thai food is a melange of taste, textures, and sensations, life in Isaan is also a melange of opposites juxtaposed to create a vibrant mosaic. In this case a pious Monk carrying an umbrella advertising an international brand of liquor while participating in an ancient merit making ritual.

As a person's name was announced, they went up to the table, where a granddaughter of the deceased man presented them with a towel placed on top of a pressed metal ceremonial bowl. The recipient performed a wai (Thai sign of respect), accepted the offering, and walked up stairs to the coffin. They then placed the towel along with the previous towels on top of the coffin. A couple of the deceased man's sons ensured that the towels were laid out in an orderly fashion. There were also three dignitaries at the merit making ritual. The head man of Khumphawapi Province is related to the deceased so he attended along with the No 2 man of the province. A third dignitary was the headman from another village. After the close family members had presented the towel offerings, the dignitaries were given other offerings rather than towels to present. I know that one offering was a large box containing two intricately carved yellow candles to burn in the Wat.

Some of the guests, both male and female, wore what appeared to be military uniforms. They were not members of the armed forces but were teachers. Apparently on Mondays and Fridays, teachers wear their uniforms. All this time I had thought that Thailand had a huge military! It also turns out that many civil servants also have formal military style uniforms that they wear at certain occasions. However this was not the end of me learning something new for the day.


After the offerings had been placed atop the coffin, they were removed by some of the approximately 32 Monks that participated in the ritual and brought to the area where the formal offerings to the Monks as well as chanting was being performed.

The formal merit making ritual lasted two hours. I wandered around taking photographs of whatever I pleased. This may sound strange to other cultures - a stranger, let alone a foreigner, talking photographs of a solemn family event, but I have grown accustomed to the Buddhist and Isaan attitude towards death. Death here is a life milestone not all that much different than birth, marriage, ordination, or moving into a new home. Yes, it is restrained, and dignified. But it is not overly somber and definitely not emotional. I was not the only photographer at this ritual. The deceased man's grandson spent most of his time documenting the event using his camera flash much more than I was comfortable using mine.

After the offerings had been removed, the other guests went to the table at the foot of the stairway to pick up woven bamboo and paper objects, talisman, to place on the closed coffin. After the last guest had placed their talisman on the coffin, several were removed and distributed throughout the furnace on its floor. The remainder of the talismans were placed on the pile of the Uncle's personal possessions on the bare ground outside of the crematorium to be burned in an open fire as his body was cremated.

The thin top of the coffin was removed so that family members could say their final good bye to their loved one. This was also the time for the family to pour coconut water and scented water on the corpse. The corpse had its hands in a wai position but unlike the previous funerals there were no candles, joss sticks or other offerings in his hand. After awhile, a young man came up to coffin with one of the heavy knives used for cutting sugar cane and for chopping meat into paste. With extreme care and reverence, he used the knife to pry the hands apart. He and another man then pushed the corpse's hands to the side of the body. I had not seen this before during Isaan funerals. The justification for this unexpected action became quickly apparent. Family members as they poured the coconut water or just as they finished pouring the water, grasped a hand in a final lingering farewell gesture. Other members gently and affectionately touched the decease's forehead or cheeks as they poured their portion of either coconut or scented water on to the corpse typically on the face.

Whereas death seems to be an embarrassment, a fate to be largely ignored and definitely an event to dread in western cultures with funeral guests often uncomfortable as to how to behave or how to react with the decease's family, here in Isaan it is a community gathering, one of many opportunities to make merit. It is an milestone that people understand and accept without reservation. They know that it will come. They plan on it coming. All members of the community young and old participate in the very public funeral rituals.

This funeral was very similar to the other funerals that I have attended but there were some unique aspects to it which merited the common Thai expression of "Same Same but different"

The Lao Loum family and community structure in Isaan basically eliminates the concerns for the survivors. The youngest daughter is always responsible for supporting her parents so widows or widowers have a certain measure of security. Children are loved and cared for not only by the members of the large families but also by the other members of the village. Older siblings understand their responsibilities, duties, and obligations to their younger brothers and sister.


I learned my last new item of the day as we were leaving the Wat, I noticed a woman with a heavily bandaged thumb. Duang spoke to her and determine that part of her thumb had been amputated - amputated when one of the cattle that she was tending decided to take a run while the rope leash was wrapped around the woman's thumb.

Latest Photo Gallery Available to View

There is a new gallery available for viewing on my photo web site.

The gallery documents the harvesting of this year's rice crop in Isaan, specifically in the proximity of Tahsang Village in Udon Thani Province - about 60 miles south of the Laos.

http://www.hale-worldphotography.com/Other/Isaan-Rice-Harvest-November/10400150_dVMc7/1/720440584_iJYty

Threshing Rice Outside Tahsang Village

On Friday morning we drove out to Tahsang Village for a couple of reasons. Duang's daughter and her husband were still busy with harvesting the rice from the family paddy so we had the chance to care for Peelawat. Secondly, some of Duang's 93 cousins were going to be threshing their harvested rice just outside of Tahsang Village so there would be photography opportunities for me to take advantage of.

On our extended visits to Tahsang Village, I bring my camera gear as well as my laptop computer. While Peelawat sleeps I use the computer to organize and edit photographs. Lately I have been waiting until around 2:00 P.M. to go out to the fields to commence photographing. I find the lower light of the late afternoon more conducive to photographing the workers and harvested rice. The late afternoon sun gives an overall golden hue to the scenery.

On Friday afternoon when we was going out to photograph the threshing operation nearby, Peelawat was awake so we decided to take him with us. It was a bright and hot afternoon so we attempted to shield him with a large hat. Peelawat would not cooperate and kept brushing the hat off of his head. Fortunately near where the work was going on there was a typical rest platform. Rest platforms are scattered about the fields and provide some protection for the workers from the sun. The platforms have either a thatched or corrugated (usually rusty) metal roof. Workers eat their meals underneath the roofs and sometimes take a nap in the middle of the day to deal with the heat of the day. This was a good place for Duang and Peelawat to sit while I went about the field. Peelawat watched me the entire time.

The rice in the paddy had been cut and bundled into sheaves previously. A very large mound of rice sheaves had been created in one corner of the complex of paddies. The mound had been built up upon a very large blue mat of very fine mesh plastic netting. The netting captures the rice kernels that fall from the stalks due to handling. The threshing machine is also set up to ensure that the loss of product is minimized. There were also many sheaves of rice stalks scatter throughout the paddies. The first task of the day was to gather up, transport the scattered sheaves, and add them to the large mound. The workers set about gathering the sheaves and piling them into a wagon pulled by an "iron buffalo". The workers were in fine spirits, singing to the Mahlam Lao music that blared across the paddies from a portable radio that they had placed on the ground - UNTIL - until one of the cousins backed up the rice laden wagon over the top of the radio. The last song abruptly terminated with a large scrunching sound.

After awhile the threshing machine arrived. It was the same machine and operator that I had photographed a year ago at another cousin's field.

The machine was set up on the blue netting and the crew began feeding the sheaves into the middle of the machine. Dust and straw was forcibly ejected from a chute at the other side of the threshing drum. Additional debris was ejected from a screw conveyor beneath the drum at the same side as the straw ejection chute. Rice kernels left the machine at the back end in a heavy stream.. The rice was collected into 50 kilogram bags. As the bags were quickly filled, they were carried away to a storage area where their tops were closed and tied off with thin strips of bamboo.


We spent about an hour and one-half there before returning Peelawat back to his home. The little guy had done well on his first photo shoot in the field.