Road of Opportunity, Plenty of Opportunity

Three Lao Loum Farmers Heading To the Fields

Back in March, I wrote of a very interesting road, "A Road Less Traveled, A Path Often Not Taken" that we discovered on one of our excursions out to the Ban Chiang area.  When we drove along the dusty red road in March, the surrounding countryside was parched and largely abandoned.  Even then the photographic opportunities of the area were very evident.  We decided then that we would return to the area later this year during rice planting season.

Rice planting season is now in full force here in Isaan.  The rains returned in May and now we typically have some rain just about everyday.  Thundershowers often bring up to 30 minutes of intense localised precipitation.  The rains in May allowed the rice seeds to be broadcast over prepared flooded paddies.  The continuing rains kept the paddies flooded and allowed the seeds to germinate to create a rich bright yellow-green carpet over the Isaan countryside.  Now that it is July, the thick green carpets are being separated and the plants transplanted into other prepared flooded rice paddies.  The continuing monsoonal rains will nourish the developing rice until October when it will be time to harvest the new crop.

Yesterday was a good day to head back out to drive along that road less traveled and the path often not taken.  Although it was not a bright and sunny morning, it was a morning that seemed to promise no immediate possibility of precipitation let alone heavy rains. The overcast sky would also allow me to take the type of photographs of the planting activities that I had photographed previously.  The heavy overcast and cloudy sky created the soft light that clear, bright and sunny skies do not - especially late morning and at mid-day.  The growing rice plants and flooded fields are extremely reflective so soft light, in my opinion, is desirable. We set off around 8:00 A.M. for Ban Nong Han where we knew that the road ended.

We got to Ban Nong Han without any difficulty but quickly became confused - some would say lost.  We stopped several times and got directions.  Duang was responsible for getting directions because the people that we encountered or would encounter did not speak English.  After a while, Duang was hungry because she had not eaten breakfast back at our home.  We stopped at a very small village alongside one of the country roads that we had managed to get confused on.  We found a small market where the elderly woman also cooked noodle soup (Queteao).  I sat at the small concrete picnic table drinking an ice tea while Duang ate her bowl of noodle soup.  Very shortly I heard young voices saying words along the line of "There is a falang (foreigner) here"  Shortly afterwards, 6 young children arrived to look at me.  It was amusing to see them checking me out.  From an elderly man, we learned that the children had never seen a foreigner before.  I guess we were more than confused - we had to be LOST if we were somewhere were children had never seen a falang before!  I spoke with the children but they were very shy.  Unlike the children in the film, "ET", I was not offered any Reese's Bits or any Isaan equivalent treat.  While Duang continued to eat her meal, I saw several children come from the interior of the village to drive past me on their bicycles, eyes transfixed upon me the entire time.  This did not bother me in the least for they were just interested in someone they had never seen before - pretty much what I do so often with my camera.  They were just taking advantage of an opportunity to expand their world just a little bit.

With a new set of directions, we set off to find the road less traveled.  Perhaps it is less traveled because no one can find it?  We found a interesting narrow red dirt road that was headed off in what we believed was the right direction.  For quite awhile it appeared to be the road that we were looking for.  However, this road did not have any mango orchards that the road back in March had.  It turned out to be a different road but not a bad road.  The new road was very interesting.  There was no traffic on it.  It had no signs.  It was partially eroded by heavy rains, in fact in some places water from the higher land alongside of the road was pouring onto the road creating large puddles.

We found people planting rice in the paddies along the roadside.  I would get out of the truck and say hello to the people as I started to take photographs.  I was always closely followed by Duang who would explain to the people what I was up to.  She would then start talking to the people - finding out just as much about them as she was telling them about us.  That is the way it is out here in Isaan - people are very friendly and you are one of their own, you are like family.  As I walked about, bent down, and sometimes even squatted to photograph the planting activities, the air was filled with the sounds of Duang and the farmers talking.

After we had been there awhile a family of the farmers headed back to their home to eat.  Their home was like many of the homes that we see along the back roads of Isaan amongst the rice paddies.  These are not the primary homes of the people.  Unlike the rich American people of the early 20th century who had "summer homes" in exclusive communities along the beaches or in the mountains or even many Americans today who have a vacation home, hunting camp or fishing camp. the people of Isaan have a primitive home for work.  The small raised one room structures are where the family stays during the intense work periods associated with cultivating rice - planting and harvesting seasons.

Lao Loum Family Eating A Meal In Their "Work" Home

We stopped at the family's work home and socialized with them while they ate their meal.  Naturally we were offered to join them but we respectively declined having only recently eaten ourselves. I learned quite a bit from this family thanks to Duang's efforts.  I thought that the two older adults were the parents of two young children, three and four year old sisters.  I was wrong.  The two adults were actually the grandparents of the two girls.  It turned out that the young woman that I thought was the 18 year old sister of the young children was actually their mother.  The husband and father was away working.  He was far away working - working in Israel.  This is not all that uncommon.  Many Thai men and some Thai women go off to work in Israel, Taiwan, or Korea.  They can make two to three times their Thai earnings a month in those far away lands.  An aunt of the little girls was a widow.  She asked me to find her a foreign husband.  This is also not uncommon here in Isaan.  I have been asked by at least 95 Thai women to find or better yet bring them a falang husband.

The family had been staying in the partially sided house for four weeks and expect to stay there another two weeks until the planting is completed.  They will return in October for the labor intensive manual harvest of the rice crop.

Three Year Old and Four Year Old Sisters Ready to Return to the Rice Paddies

As they prepared to return to the paddies, Duang and I drove ahead back to where we first encountered them.  Duang recommenced her conversations with the workers - I suspect right from where they had left off.  Feeling more comfortable with the location, I set off to be more adventuresome in my photography efforts.  I left the relative comfort and safety of the roadside to walk atop the rice paddy berms, raised dirt mounds that create the containment for the paddy water.  These dirt mounds offer some challenges as well as opportunities.  They are either covered with a thick mat of weeds or are freshly created with a clumps of what was recently moist dirt.  There are opportunities to slip and slide off into the water on either side of the raised berm.  I know that I could personally cope with falling into the mud but I am fearful of the problems that would be created for the camera gear that I carry.  The heavy weed mat also provides opportunities to twist an ankle or perhaps to break a leg.  The weeds often camouflage holes or uneven surfaces of the berm.  I also am very attentive when walking along the weed covered dikes to ensure that I do not have an opportunity to be bitten by a snake.  There are Cobras and other poisonous snakes in Isaan.  Fortunately either due to my diligence, luck, or the actual scarcity of snakes, I have not seen a live snake other than in a show.

Worker's Quarters In Rubber Plantation

After taking some more photos, we continued along the red dirt road.  We came upon a rubber plantation - another opportunity to take some landscape photographs.  I got out of the truck to explore a lit bit of the plantation.  Further down the road a couple of dogs came partly up the road to my location, barking and let me know that they had their eyes on me.  For some reason I do not find the dogs in Thailand anyway as threatening or intimidating than American dogs.  I ignored the dogs and soon they ignored me, returning to their original locations.

The rubber plantation was an interesting combination of textures, shadows, and colors.  I first encountered rubber plantation 13 years ago in Malaysia.  This plantation was much smaller and younger but just as fascinating.

After a while I was joined by a small herd of what originally believed to be "guard cattle".  Several cows and calves approached me and the crossed the road.  About five minutes later an old hunched over man approached from the original direction of the cattle.  He was the herd tender.  I pointed to the direction where the cattle headed and told him "cattle" in Thai.  He nodded and headed off in the same direction.

Follow Those Cows!

Eventually and after several false turns we found the dirt road that we were seeking.  The road split a market area in two.  The road appeared to be a path to a parking area for the various stalls rather than a way back to Ban Nong Han.  I was very pleased and Duang, my reluctant navigator and guide, was very much relieved to be once again on the right path.

The road was more damaged from water than the road that we had discovered that morning.  Along the road we saw plots of corn, rice paddies, mango orchards, rubber plantations, cassava plots, and banana trees.  Although there was no traffic on the road, there was plenty of opportunities for work along its sides.

Where we had seen a parched and rather desolate countryside in March, yesterday the worker's huts were now all occupied and in many instances repaired.  The countryside was a brilliant and vibrant green.  We no longer left a large and long red dust cloud as we drove along the road.

There were several locations where people were busy planting rice.  At one of the locations I pulled over to the side of the road as much as I could without getting the truck stuck in either a ditch or in the mud.  A man and a women were planting rice in separate enjoining rice paddies.

Water Spews from Farmer's Hands As He Plants Rice

I walked out and along a set of berms to where the woman was planting rice.  A fairly large tree grew out of the berm so I walked up to it in order to lean against it to further steady my camera.  As my hand approached the tree, I noticed the the bark was a busy highway, heavy in both directions, with large red ants some that were carrying large pieces of vegetation.  In a flash I realized what they were - weaver ants.  Weaver ants are the creators of "kie mot si daeng" (red ant eggs) that many Lao Loum people enjoy eating.  I had encountered them before and it was not pleasant - I had stepped on one of their trails and my feet were instantly swarmed with biting ants.  The bite of the weaver ant is initially similar to that of a fire ant but does not contain the enzymes of the fire ant that dissolves proteins, causes welts, causes burning, causes scars and can cause death.  The weaver ant bite is just a mechanical bite.  I looked at my feet and just like before they were getting swarmed by red ants.  I hastily got away from the tree and commenced to frantically brush the ants off of my shoes along with the few that had started to climb up my trouser legs.  I had no difficulty brushing them off and despite my fears none had bitten me.  After several repetitions of inspecting and brushing off of ants, I seemed to have gotten rid of the ants.  Then I started getting a tingle up my leg.  Since I am not a President Obama I knew that tingle could only mean a red ant.  I rushed across the berms and across the road to get to the far side of our pickup truck. After hearing me shout to her as I hustled across the berms. Duang arrived at the far side of the truck just as I arrived as I ... dropped my pants to the ground.   She quickly found and destroyed the two ants who were climbing up my legs.  We all enjoyed the opportunity to have a good laugh!

Women Planting Rice with the Infamous Tree in the Background

Further down the road we encountered a woman harvesting rice plants for transplantation in another paddy.  It was too good of a photo opportunity to pass up.  Besides it was also a great opportunity for Duang to pass some time speaking Lao to a farmer!  I am truly fortunate to have a wife who indulges my passion so well.

A Farmer Harvests Rice Plants for Transplantation

Excess Water Drains from Bunch of Rice Plants

Farmer Shakes Water from Rice Plants

After photographing the woman, we drove down the road further where we found a newly constructed rice mill operating.  This was not a mill were 18 wheelers delivered raw rice and transported finished sacks of rice away.  This mill was a village mill run by one man with help from his assistant.  It was at this plant that neighbors delivered sacks of rice from their small holdings to have the husks removed from the grain so that it could be consumed by the family.  The rice was transported to and from the mill on the back of motorbikes, on hand carts, or hand carts attached to motorbikes.

Fellow Travelers On the Road of Opportunity

Our excursion along the dirt back roads of Isaan ended as we got back to Ban Nong Han.  It had been a rewarding and entertaining day along the roads of opportunity.  There had been many opportunities to take photographs but more importantly we had seen many opportunities for the residents; opportunities to make a living. opportunities for work - plenty of opportunitis to work.

It's Miller Time - In Isaan

The Tahsang Village Miller Loads The Shaker Table

"It's Miller Time" was the slogan for a beer that is brewed in the United States.  Personally I would never drink the stuff again.  Besides not tasting good and being gentle on my digestive system I totally disagreed with their marketing strategy which blatantly targeted specific groups of the population. Such a strategy might work for electing public officials but i do not have to participate in it for purchasing beer.

It's Miller Time in Isaan is not even about drinking beer.  If this blog were to be about beer drinking here in Northeast Thailand, it would be about It's Leo Time or It's Chang Time.  Most of the people that I know out in the villages drink Leo which is also my preferred brand.  More affluent villagers may drink Chang.  No matter their choice, the locals will drink their beer out of a glass filled with ice cubes.  It may sound a little strange but I can attest to how refreshing it is on hot and humid Isaan days or nights.

It's Miller Time for this blog deals with the final processing of this year's rice harvest.  The rice has been cut, dried in the field, threshed to remove the grain from the straw, the rice grain dried at the Wat or in the yard, and stored in the family granary.  The stored rice has a husk covering the kernel.  Some bags of rice which will be used next year for seed will remain this way.  Some bags that will used to make "puffed rice", sort of like popcorn, which is used in making the Isaan treat (I call it Thai Cracker Jacks) "Kao Tawtek".  The remainder of the rice which will be eaten during the year must have the husk mechanically removed, milled, so that the rice can be steamed.

Gathering Freshly Milled Rice

On the morning that I recently wrote about when we visited our grandson's school, I had visited the home in Tahsang Village where the local rice is milled.  Well today, we had to go back out to the village so I headed directly back to visit the miller.

Like many businesses here in Isaan, the man mills the rice on his home property.  In the USA there was a time when industry was also conducted at home.  The term "cottage industry" refereed to the practise.  Well here in Isaan cottage industry is thriving.

Tahsang Village Rice Milling Equipment

The milling machine is located in a shed at the back of the miller's home.  I had first visited and photographed the operation back in October 2008.  I have written several times about the Thai expression of "Same, Same; but different".  During my visit on Monday after a hiatus of four years I realized that the milling operation was "same same but different".  At first I thought that the miller had gotten rid of two of his machines but upon closer inspection, I realized that the miller had reorientated the equipment 90 degrees.  I pointed the difference out to him and he confirmed that it had been reorientated.  Later when Duang joined us, I had her tell the man that he had done a very good job relocating the equipment because it looked like the very same spider webs from four years ago were still there seemingly undisturbed.  We had a  good laugh.  But seriously, the equipment was just as heavily covered with dust laden spider webs as it was previously.  I guess if you know what you  are doing you don't have to clean equipment to relocate it!

Visiting the rice miller was a smorgasbord for most of the senses.  The first sense that is stimulated is sound.  Even from the street, you can hear the rice being milled.  Once inside the shed you hear a symphony.  There is the sound of belts driving the numerous pulleys, wheels and shafts that power the various sections of the machinery.  There is the sound of dried kernels of rice rustling along the vibrating shaker tables that separate the rice from straw and other debris that was carried over from the threshing or drying operations.  You can hear the rice traveling through various chutes that connect different sections of the machine.  There is a rhythmic slapping of the power transmitting belts.  Occasionally a chicken will shuffle along the compacted earth floor of the shed clucking in satisfaction upon finding some rice that has spilled.

The sense of sight is tantalized by all kinds of oddities and peculiarities of the operation.  The work area is rather dark and the air is dusty.  But the most stunning sight is the actual milling equipment.  The equipment is old; very old.  I suspect that it very well could be 100 years old.  The milling equipment comes from the age when machines were still constructed of wood, rivets, cast iron, steel, fabric, and leather.

Wood?  Yes, the elevated work platform was wood which is not all that unique or surprising.  The support columns were also made of wood - a little less common but again not surprising.  What was unique and definitely surprising was that the housings for the vertical elevators and many of the chutes that transported the rice were made of wood, wood that had a nice patina due to many years of use.

Leather?  Yes, the many belts that transmitted power from the single floor mounted electric motor located about 2 meters from the equipment.  A long leather belt was attached to a large diameter wheel mounted on a long horizontal shaft close to the equipment.  Other wheels of various diameters were also mounted on the horizontal shaft.  Leather belts of various lengths and widths transmitted power to the various specific locations on the machine.  The machine hearkened back to the time before machine guards were used or required.  Care had to be taken to ensure that your clothing or fingers did not get caught up in the belts.  The miller had no need to be around those sections while milling the grain but an excited foreign photographer definitely had to take care!  Besides being used for power transmitting belts, leather was used to suspend the various vibrating trays and tables that separated the grain.

Chute and Fabric Connector Tie Vibrating Table to Vertical Elevator

Fabric? Yes, fabric was used to make the flexible connections between the moving parts of the equipment.  In more modern machines these connectors would be constructed of rubber, neoprene, or Nitrile. In some places coated Fiberglas or nylon fabric would be used.  For this machine I do not know what was originally used.  Perhaps it was canvas.  Whatever was originally used is long gone and replaced by the miller with whatever fabric the family did not need for other purposes.  In some sections of the equipment it appeared that sections were being held together by strips of cloth; cloth that was coated by spider webs and dust.  The dust coated spider webs hung from all sections and pieces of the milling equipment as well as all exposed surfaces in the work shed.  The overall ambiance was of a haunted house or some laboratory where Frankenstein would be created - a great place to explore and photograph.

Milled Rice Spills From Milling Machine Into Recycled Plastic Bucket

The colors in the work shed were rather subdued because of the equipment's age and the uniformity due to heavy accumulation of dust.  The subtlety of the color palette was broken in places where the golden grain had spilled or could be seen traveling through the process.  Richly colored recycled fertilizer or sugar bags also provided a punch of color in isolated locations of the shed.  A small but steady trickle of pearl white milled rice provided .some contrast

Making Some Equipment Adjustments

There was a very pleasant faint smell of grain wafting throughout the work shed.  It was somewhat reminiscent of baked bread but without the alcohol accents of real baking bread.

Checking Out The Milling Process

Just as you should not touch items in a museum, I was reticent to touch the equipment lest I disturb the rich patina of spider webs and dust.  However I was not shy to plunge my hand into the bucket of freshly milled rice.  The texture of thousands of grains of rice pressing against my skin was just as you would expect.  But for me there was a surprise, the rice was warm; warm from the friction of travelling through and being milled in the machine.

Bagging the Finished Product

Miller time in Isaan had proved to be a most pleasant way to pass the morning.  Besides being pleasant it was also extremely informative.  As happens throughout Southeast Asia when you take the time to get closer to the people and their life, you learn that there are so many ways to live and to live happily.  The people are very adept at making do with what they have and prove that you do not have to have a great deal to get by.  they are also very good at solving their own problems either through their ingenuity or cooperation with each other.

As a Westerner, you realize that you do not need all that you would like to have or even think that you need.  Sure the equipment is old, very old but it does the job.  Newer equipment would look better but at what cost to the people who use the miller's service?  Currently his fee is 20% of the finished product.  If he milled 50 bags of finished rice for you, he would keep 10 bags and return 40 to you.  He currently has 500 bags of his own in storage and will some to a broker in Udonthani to obtain some cash.

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.

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.