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Your last meal most likely involved no more effort than opening your refrigerator or cupboard, gathering the necessary ingredients, and cooking in the microwave, in the oven, or on the stove top. Perhaps you were fortunate and you went out to eat, out to eat at a fast food outlet, nice restaurant, or a friend's house. Like me, I am certain that your only concerns were what you were going to eat and there were no thoughts as to whether you would eat or not - just like we are all certain that we will have dinner tomorrow, next week, and any and everyday in the future.The luxury of not worrying about availability of food is not shared by everyone in this world. It is not shared by all the people of Isaan, in particular this elderly woman outside Kumphawapi amongst the rice paddies northeast of town.
After our adventures at the sugar refinery south of Kumphawapi, I stomped the red dust from my running shoes and cleared my head of the smells of the area to head out to visit Duang's daughter. The air around the sugar refinery was filled with a fusion of the sweet scent of fermenting sugar and the stench of sugar fermentation gone bad (terribly bad) - very similar to smelly - very smelly feet.
We drove through town and saw the local monkeys returning from their wanderings about town to their homes in the local park. Some monkeys take the high road - traversing the town along the elevated electrical and telephone wires. I have gotten accustomed to driving through town and seeing a monkey suspended above the middle of the road on a wire.
Other monkeys stick to the low road - scampering along the roads and sidewalks back to the park. Often their journey takes them across the path of vagrant dogs but I have yet to see a dog versus monkey battle. I suspect that the dogs, or the ones that are still around, have learned not to mess with a monkey. Monkeys are mean little buggers!
A third group of monkeys, small juveniles were in the middle of transitioning from the low road to the high road. An adult monkey, I don't know if it was a male or female - I didn't think it was polite to stare especially as I was driving and I didn't want any locals to see me checking them out, was on a high wire about 10 feet from a concrete utility pole. The adult had stopped and was looking back at the pole where several juveniles were climbing the pole and get to the point where they would go out on the wire. I got the distinct impression that the adult was supervising and teaching the younger monkeys. Lesson #1 - DO NOT TOUCH TWO WIRES AT THE SAME TIME. Lesson #2 - DO NOT TOUCH TWO WIRES AT THE SAME TIME.
My body hair is called "koh ling" - Monkey hair in the Isaan dialect. Duang says that the local monkeys are my brothers but she stops joking when I stare at them and start talking to them. I have had a confrontation with one that was stealing groceries out of the back of our pickup truck in town. Neither one of us was backing down. When I was giving the monkey hell for taking stuff, the monkey dropped the bag of potato chips and gave me the "dumb*ss" look as much to say "What? Me? What are you talking about? I didn't do anything!". Our standoff was only resolved when Duang came to the monkey's aid and chased it off with a broom that she had grabbed from the nearby motorcycle shop.
We manged to clear the monkey migration with causing any damage or getting damaged and hit the country road out amongst the rice paddies. The time was approaching early evening so the light was great for photography - a time commonly referred to as the "Golden Hour". It is also a time when the workers are headed back to their homes by all kinds of transport with each mode of transportation seemingly slower than the other. If there were more vehicles it might be referred to as "Rush Hour" but no one really rushes.
I have become accustomed to sharing the road with all kinds of vehicles - great and small as well as all kinds of animals. The elephants are well behaved and always stick to their edge of the road but you don't see them very often. The cattle are not adept at sharing the road, often they just mosey on up the middle of the lane or completely across the entire road. Since this is a poor region, the cattle herds are never large - usually 10 to 15 head maximum. The water buffalo are like defecating armored vehicles - a metallic gun metal grey of rippling muscles. Fortunately their herds are even smaller than the cattle. Often the cattle or water buffaloes walk along trailing an approximate 12 foot length of rope from their nose. It makes for quite a sight.
Dogs like to sleep on the road. They appear to have the knack for getting out of the way - even if it is just in time. I have seen only two dead dogs on the road in a year. In Brasil I would see a new dead dog along the main highway every other day. New? Yes in addition to the previous dead dogs. The dead dogs in the middle of the road lanes did not remain recognizable for more than a day or two. However the dead dogs in the median were a study in the progressive decay of organic matter. I observed one for over two weeks - truly disgusting.
Hens, roosters, and chicks as well as ducks coexist with both the dogs as well as cars on the road. They seem to be a problem but always get out of the way with plenty of time.
I have even gotten use to the other vehicles on the road. I do not get upset, excited, or concerned about the numerous motorbikes driving the wrong way on the road - they usually stay in the breakdown lane. I am even used to cars approaching head on as they pass one, two, three or sometimes four slow vehicles travelling in the opposite direction. I have grown to expect the unexpected when I drive - I am seldom disappointed.
As bad as it may seem, it works out - most of the time. In Brasil we used to say there were no laws or rules concerning driving. Knowing that you didn't take things for granted - you were not relying on the other guy to be following the "law". Everyone followed the same lack of laws so there was a consistency that prevented accidents. In three years in Brasil, I saw about 8 car accidents.
In Thailand the people share the road more willingly. They are not as territorial as Americans. They realize and are convinced that with every one's cooperation three cars and perhaps three cars and a motorbike can share two lanes of the road. Everyone gives a little and down the road they may take a little and it all works out - especially for cars and trucks. If there were more westerns here driving the roads with the "This is my lane and I am keeping it" mentality there would undoubtedly be many more accidents here. Motorbike accidents are a problem - I believe it is because everyone expects them to give a whole lot more than other vehicles.
Anyhow we got to Duang's daughters home - actually her mother-in-law's home where she lives with her father-in-law, grandparents-in-law, one or two aunts and uncles that always seem to be around a little two year old niece.
As everyone was catching up on local and family gossip, often one and the same, I noticed a solitary woman walking and working in the dry rice paddy across the dirt road from the house. She was dressed in typical Isaan or Lao Loum clothing and seemed an interesting photographic study. Duang said that she was gathering "hoy" snails to eat. I left the group and got my camera out of the truck. I crossed the road and walked over to her.
The woman was carrying a black plastic bucket, a plastic shopping bag filled with "greens" which looked more like weeds to me, and a five foot long wood pole with a small scoop on the end. She had gathered the greens from the paddy and along the roadside. I am certain that these plants similar to the plants that Duang eats are part of her diet.
It has not rained here since the end of October so the land in most places are very dry. The farmers have started to drain mud puddles to flood their fields for the new rice crop. This is nothing new and Al Gore need not concern himself on this issue, at this time, and at this point in time. The monsoons will return as they always do and everything will be flooded - once again. However the harvested rice paddies are dry as a bone and appear to be barren except for the stubble and weeds remaining from the harvest. As I walked the paddy in and amongst the deposits from free range cattle, I saw many mounds of dried mud.
These mounds were spiral cones of dried light colored clay fines with a small hole in the center - it reminded me of an upside down pastry coronet. The elderly woman would walk around and find one of these. She would stop and use the pole tool to dig the area beneath the coronet. After digging down about 18 to 24 inches she got on her hands and knees to finish the excavation with her hands. Many times she found nothing in the dry hole. But sometimes she found what she was after - "bpoo" (crab).
I know that they were crabs because she showed them to me as she pulled them out of the parched ground. She also showed me the very lively 12 crabs that she had in her bucket. Somethings I can not explain. I only report and write about what I have seen. Fortunately I have not seen or thought that I have seen any Phii (ghosts) so I do not have to defend my credibility on that issue - yet. However I can not explain how or why there are what looks like small saltwater crabs that I used to catch at the local beach back in Connecticut here in Isaan - 350 to 400 miles from the sea!!. I can not explain how these crabs can be pulled out of a 1.5 to 2 foot deep hole in completely dry dirt where it has not rained in 3 months. The rice paddy has been dry for at least a month. All I know is what I saw.
Lao people are very fond of a green papya salad called "Pauk Pauk". A component of Pauk Pauk is a couple of whole small cooked crabs - small as in about 2 inches across. These whole crabs, shell and all, are tossed in and pounded with a mortar and pestle along with the other ingredients. I was first introduced to this dish in Pattaya which is on the ocean and assumed that the crabs were saltwater crabs. I have seen the crabs in the local market and assumed that the crabs like the squid had been shipped up from the coast. Now I am wondering if the crabs were freshwater crabs all along. If I see or believe I see squid being caught in the local lakes and rivers I am going to be in need of some very serious professional health!
I talked a little with the woman but she didn't say much. It may or may not have been my command of the Thai language but a definite contributing factor to her silence was the fact that her mouth was filled with the various accoutrements for betel nut chewing. One time when she smiled, I got a view - I sight that I would have preferred not to have seen!
I returned to the group and got some further information from Duang about the elderly woman. She is a poor woman who wanders the roads and paddies each day gathering her food. She does not own the land that she scavenges. No body complains that she is digging on their land to harvest "their" crabs. I told Duang that in America you can not go on to other people's property to gather food without them complaining or perhaps calling the police.
Apparently here in Isaan, Lao Loum people do not want to deny anyone their daily bread even if it happens to be greens and crabs off of their own land.
