The Garlic Workers of Ban Nai Soi

After our visit with the Monk who lives in a cave, we stopped at  Tham Pla Forest Park (Fish Cave).  We did not stop to see the fish.  We stopped to eat and drink.  Over the years of traveling throughout the world I have developed some rules that help make travel more pleasant.

One of the rules is "Go to the bathroom where you can".  The best time to go to the bathroom is when you find proper facilities or what you suspect are the best facilities for the remainder of the day.

Another rule is to "Eat where you can".  The best time to eat is when you find a place that meets your expectations or at worse, your minimum standards.  This helps to reduce the number of times that you may be forced to compromise.

Following the second rule dictated that we stop at Fish Cave.  We had eaten there four years ago and enjoyed the variety as well as the quality of the food.  Once again on this trip we were shocked at how few tourists there were.  We ended up eating at the same food stall that we had enjoyed our meal on the previous trip.  There were only three other people at the stall and roughly a total of 5 others at the other food stalls.  The owner of the food stall remembered us from our previous visit when we had spoken with her for about an hour.  In talking to her this year, we found out that tourism is down significantly starting about three years ago  After a relaxing lunch of sticky rice, grilled pork ribs, and a coconut water/sugar cane soft drink, we left and continued north to hopefully achieve another objective of this trip.

Duang Helping With the Garlic Harvest - 01 April 2009

Four years ago we had witnessed porters carrying bunches of garlic from the field, across a bamboo bridge, and up a hill to store them alongside the road to be picked up by trucks.  We followed the porters on their return trip to the garlic fields - down the rather steep hill, across a flowing stream using a rickety bamboo bridge, and across the dry rice paddies to where a crew of men and women were harvesting garlic.  It was very interesting and I wrote a blog about our experience.  http://hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2009/04/maehongson-april-1-2009.html 

The Garlic Porter - 01 April 2009

One of my objectives this year was to revisit the area and photograph the people harvesting the garlic.  We had checked with the staff at our hotel, and they had informed us that the garlic harvest had concluded.  We had seen many pick up trucks stacked 10 feet high above beds with bundles of garlic, so I expected that there were some activities associated with the harvest still ongoing.  It is always good to ask around for information but in the end the decision has to be your decision as to what YOU will do.  The information from the hotel was valuable in that we knew not to expect a great deal of opportunities for photographs of people working in the fields.  Undeterred we set out for the fields along Highway 1285 on the way to Ban Huai Phueng.  We spotted some motorbikes parked along the road  and a very large square mound of garlic - a definite sign that people were working down in the fields.  Down and some distance from the highway people were working.

I parked the truck a little further down the road to ensure our safety as well as others along the narrow road. I walked alone to scout out the area down the dirt road that lead from the garlic pile to a bamboo bridge that crossed the same stream that we had encountered four years ago.  Tentatively I climbed up the wide pace rungs that brought me to the bridge.  From my vantage point on the bridge I could see people working the fields.  Pleased and excited at this discovery, I returned to the truck to get my camera gear and Duang.

Porters Bringing Garlic to the Highway

We were soon joined by some of the workers transporting garlic bunches suspended from both ends of  bamboo pole balanced on their shoulder.  One of the people appeared to be the big boss and commenced to be a great model for me, sitting on the garlic mound and redistributing the bunches on top of the mound.

The Big Boss

More Garlic for the Pile

After talking with the people along the roadside, we walked down the dirt road and crossed the bridge to where the other workers were loading up bamboo poles with garlic bunches.

More Garlic to Be Hauled Across the Bridge

We had apparently arrived at the worker's lunch break, because after photographing for a while all the workers walked across the bridge to a small raised hut that dot the fields of Thailand.  These raised huts are constructed of timber and have thatched roofs.  The huts provided shelter from the sun during breaks, and are the locations where the workers eat their meals.

One of the Garlic Workers Prepares and Serves Lunch

Curious as to what was going on I wandered over to the hut.  I was immediately offered a cup of cool water from the communal water jug.  In the 95 to 100F heat, I definitely needed a drink and gratefully accepted their hospitality.  Duang caught up with us at the hut.  We were offered to share their lunch but since we had already eaten earlier, we thanked them and declined.  I may be going out on a limb but I do not believe that anyone would go hungry or thirsty in  rural Thailand.  The people are all too willing to share their food and drink; even with strangers.

Workers Eat Lunch With Fresh Banana Leaf "Tablecloth"

As I wandered about taking photos and the workers ate their meal, there was a very animated as well as loud exchange between Duang and the workers.  As much as we were interested in their lives, they were interested in our life - especially about Duang's experience living in America.  This is typical of all our travels, people are curious and interested in others; especially those who obviously have come from far away.  I suspect that these workers in a secluded area of Thailand and out in their fields have not encountered too many foreigners let alone to be able to speak with them for much time.  Our stops along the roads and streets of Southeast Asia often last one hour or more - better opportunities to understand what we are witnessing and to share our experiences with others.

A Worker Crosses the Bamboo Bridge

We left the workers and continued our trip to Ban Huai Phueng.  We encountered some soybean workers further up the road and spent two hours with them - or rather I spent two hours with them while Duang rested in the truck.  As I was returning to the truck she was coming down the trail looking for me.

During our last visit in 2009, we discovered a large open barn where garlic bunches were hung at multiple levels to dry.  Several workers were also working in the field adjacent to the barn which made for some nice photographs - photographs that hoped to replicate during this trip.  I was not exactly sure where the barn was.  Fortunately when we stopped at the Fish Cave to eat there was a loaded pick up truck of garlic.  I had Duang question the driver about the garlic barn.  Although we didn't remember the exact location, we were able to give him a very good description of it.  Without any hesitation, he told Duang that it was in Ban Nai Soi.  I remembered seeing the signs for the road to Ban Nai Soi so on our way back to Mae Hon Song, we took a side trip to Baan Nai Soi.

The Garlic Barn of Ban Nai Soi - Late Afternoon April 03, 2013

We found the garlic barn without any difficulty.  Unfortunately, the field next to the barn had not been used this year - it was just a mass of dry weeds.  I got out to photograph the garlic barn and noticed that a large area in front of the barn was covered with garlic stalks laid in orderly rows.  A man came along and Duang talked to him.  She told him of our wish to take photos of people working the garlic harvest.  He told her that the next morning starting at 8:00 A.M. he would have people working at the barn.  We thanked him and promised him, or maybe we warned him, that we would return the next morning.

Workers Tying Garlic Stalks Into Bundles

We returned to the barn in Ban Nai Soi the next morning and found several Shan workers squatting on the ground gathering stalks of garlic and tying them into bundles using strips of bamboo that had been soaked in water to make them flexible. I am often amazed and impressed in the ability of local people here in Southeast Asia to utilize and incorporate readily available and cheap materials into their work.

Under Smoky Haze, Shan Woman Bundle Garlic In Ban Nai Soi

I was thrilled to achieve another one of the objectives for this trip - much to the amusement of the workers.  They were quite amused and entertained as I crouched and squatted amongst them getting different angles and perspectives to photograph their toil.  My antics and sharing some of the photographs with them put them more at ease and consequently better photographic subjects.

Some of the women had yellow faces.  They were not suffering any type of liver failure or disease that I was aware of.  Rather than suffering liver failure, they were wearing  the traditional Myanmar make up called "Thanaka" or "Thanakha".  Thanaka is a yellowish white paste made from ground up tree bark.  Men and women in Myanmar (Burma) use it as a sunscreen, perfume, and refresher for their exposed skin.  Some women press a leaf into the paste on their cheeks to make a pretty leaf patterned stencil print.

A Shan Woman With Thanaka On Her Face

Shan Workers Amused by a Foreigner

We left the garlic barn to continue our quest for the day to achieve more objectives of this trip.

Maehongson 31 March 2009 Afternoon

After returning to the hotel, eating breakfast, and showering, we set off for the remainder of the day. I didn't have a specific itinerary for the day, but I did want to go out to the refugee camp at Baan Nai Soi to photograph "Freida" (Ma Jon) the young Paduang woman that I had met twice before. We also wanted to see how she, her mother and her sister were doing. I had heard and read that there had been an effort to relocate all the Paduang people (long necked women) to a single refugee camp. Prior to setting out we checked but did not double check and then verify that Paduang people remained at the Baan Nai Soi and Ban Huay Sua Tao camps.

We had a map with us and I remembered a great deal of the route from my previous trips to the area. As we approached the area where Baan Nai Soi is located we passed by two large wood barns similar to the tobacco drying barns that I saw as a youth in the Connecticut River Valley. Next to the barns was a field where several Shan people were busy working on stalks of dry garlic. We quickly turned around and returned to the sight to photograph the workers.

The workers were taking stalks of garlic that had been drying in the open field and placing them in bundles that were secured with wraps created out of long thin bamboo strips. The bundles of garlic were then hung over long bamboo poles. The garlic laden bamboo poles were then carried into the barns where they were hung creating a dense matrix of hanging stalks from ceiling to floor.

The Shan people grow garlic on a very large scale. It is rotated with their rice crops during the off growing season. Garlic is eaten raw as well as cooked in Shan cuisine.

We spent about 30 minutes with the workers talking and photographing them at work. They were curious as to where we were from, what we were doing, and where we were going. They were pleased to see pictures of themselves on the monitor of the digital camera. It is amazing how digital cameras have opened up the world. Now it is no problem at all to show people the results of your work. Often showing the people what you are trying to accomplish with your photography, increases their confidence and comfort with your presence. It is a wonderful ice breaker and works with people of all ages.

We found the exit off of the paved road on to the dirt road that leads to the Baan Nai Soi refugee camp without any problem. I remembered the water crossing and since we were in a pickup truck rather than a regular car, there was no difficulty. We continued on the rough, narrow, and dusty dirt road. We came to a steep rise in the road that appeared to have about 12 to 18 inches of talcum powder consistency dust on it. Learning from my previous experiences on Highway 1095 to Maehongson, I downshifted into a lower gear and speeded up to attack the rise. The truck made it about one half way up before bogging down. No problem, I put in the clutch and rolled down the hill to retry. Seeing a couple of motorbikes behind me, I waved them forward before trying to conquer the hill a second time. I dropped the truck into first gear, reved the engine up and let out the clutch. The truck aggressively attacked the hill and made it up 3/4 of the way of the hill before the fish tailing and lack of traction bogged us down. This was now serious! There were two people on a motorbike waiting for us to climb the hill before they descended. This was personal - me against the hill. I backed down the hill and got as far back as I could on what was a straight run before the hill. I put it in first gear, reved up the RPMs, and popped the clutch to build up as much speed as possible prior to climbing the hill. The engine was roaring. The back end was wildly fish tailing side to side but we were making progress. I countered the swerving rear end and kept the RPMs up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the motorcyclists as we passed them in a huge billowing cloud of tan dust. The people were closing their eyes and covering their mouths as we struggled by - but we made it. Duang and I laughed at how crazy the road was. Later at the hotel, we saw a layer of fine dust covering the back bumper.

Because Duang is a Thai citizen, she did not have to pay the entrance fee into the camp. Despite showing my Thai driver's license, I had to pay 250 baht ($7.15 USD). From the girl at the entrance booth we learned that we had just missed a festival at the camp. The three day festival had ended the day before. As we walked into the camp we were surprised at the state of the camp. Houses that we knew the people who lived in them were gone with only compacted dirt and a few bits of wood remaining. One half of the houses were gone. Very few people were visible. Unlike previous visits to this camp there was no contingent of school girls at the entrance to greet you or seduce into buying postcards, stationary, or other small trinkets. One little girl that we had previously met would also play her guitar and sing. We have seen her in documentaries regarding the Paduang people.

We found several men and women at a long table underneath the canopy of a village hut. They were spending a sunny and hot afternoon drinking coke, beer, as well as whiskey - perhaps leftovers from the festival. These people made no attempt to engage us in any conversation or tried to sell us anything. There was not much available to be bought at the little booths in front of the huts. We continued our walk around and through the village. We found a small hut that was the village health clinic. A young Thai man was in charge of the clinic and from him we learned that about one half of the people had relocated out of the camp. He works in the clinic on a grant from the thai government and also deals with NGOs for the benefit of the camp residents. As he prepared to each his lunch, we walked over to the group of residents that we had seen on our way in.

I asked about "Freida" (Ma Jon) and one of the men told me that she had died. I was shocked and asked when she had died. He said that she had died last year. Somehow I didn't quite believe him and asked him if he was joking. He eventually admitted that she had moved to another camp. She wanted to be located to a foreign country so she had moved from Baan Nai Soi into a closed camp of 20,000 people on the border. Tourists or "travellers" are not allowed access into the camp. Freida's mother and sister had also joined here in the closed camp. It was apparent that there were some issues between this man and Freida. I guess no matter who or where you are, there will always be interpersonal issues. We inquired about the sad elderly widow who had lost her daughter three years ago. The woman had moved away just like the school girl that used to greet people at the gate. It was a depressing place and it appeared that the people themselves were depressed.



We watched two young boys playing beach volleyball in front of the new school office hut. The old school buildings were very ramshackle and I suspect but could not confirm that they had been abandoned. We did find out that some of the children that remained in camp went to class in the new school office hut.



We came upon a young school girl. She reminded me somewhat of Freida. She had a brightness to her eyes and a charming personality that remind me of the waste of so much talent in this world due to economic or political adversity. This 11 year old girl, her 9 year old brother, and her 11 year old friend were manning a small booth. They study English, Thai, Burmese, and their native languages in the village school. They also study geography. I asked about science and she did not know what I was talking about.

We spent about an hour talking with the children before buying a couple of trinkets and setting back to the hotel. The girl asked if Duang could bring her some pants when we return. We plan on returning in September or October and will keep our promise.

We returned to town with both Duang and I thinking that the children's parents had not had their children's best interests in mind when they refused to relocate and elected to remain in this particular camp.

Maehongson - April 1 2009

There were no scheduled public Poi Sang Long events on April 01 that we were aware of. Despite assurances that there was nothing going on, I got Duang up and headed out to the Wats at 6:00 A. M. There was no acrimonious music to be heard - confirming that nothing was going on. Duang took it well but I did hear about a couple times during the day about how I had not listened to her. I told her it was an April Fool's joke to go to the Wat early in the morning and we both ended up laughing.

Duang wanted to see the Monk who lives in a cave so we headed north out of town and back up the long and winding road that goes to Pai (Highway 1095). We had stopped by the cave on our way into Maehongson the previous day but he was not there.

We stopped at the cave and the Monk was there. A young boy from the nearby village was preparing the Monk's food on a burner set directly above a LPG bottle. The food smelled good. We talked to the Monk for a while and received his blessing. I first visited him in October of 2006 and make a point to stop in and see him whenever I am in Maehongson. Today he had another Monk visiting him. While we were there a married couple from the local village arrived and made offering of food to the Monk. After they received their blessing, Duang talked to them and learned that the woman had a small restaurant at the entrance to Fish Cave National Park. From the woman we learned that the Monk's name was "Thom Padang".

When we had stopped at the Monk's cave the day before, I took photographs of the various statues of Buddha outside of the cave. Of the four trips to the cave, this was the only time that the statues were dressed in vestments. Each statue was covered with an orange cape that had fancy bead work on it. I told Duang that I thought that the cape had something to do with the Poi Sang Long Festival. Duang asked the Monk and found out that the sautes were wearing capes because the weather had been cool. After Songkran, 15 April, the Monk was going to remove the capes. Although we had visited the sight two years ago during Songkran, we did not see the statues clothed. Duang told me that she believes that before not too many people visited the Monk so he did not have the money to buy the clothing. Now he is apparently getting more visitors and has the material means to buy clothing for the statues. This would also help to explain why he now has a chain link fence and metal framed chain link door across the entrance to his cave as well other developments such as new tarps lining the inside of the cave. Dressing the statues is not limited to this location. In Bangkok, the King but most recently the Crown Prince change the clothing on the Emerald Buddha at the changing of each season in a very special ceremony. We bid farewell to the Monk and promised to return later in the year. Interestingly yesterday Duang informed me that the Monk had a special request for us. She had told him about why we in Maehongson and that we knew people in the Huay Suay Tao refugee camp. Apparently the Monk also knows Khun Ma Plae and requested a photo of her. Monks are celebrate and are not allowed to be touched by women. Thom Padang's request is interesting and I will be happy to comply. Duang believes that he will send us amulets that will protect us - he is supposedly Number 1 Monk for car accident prevention. With an amulet from him, we will not have an auto accident but if we were to have one - we would not be killed. OK. With the way I have seen so many people drive around here, I am not about to turn my back on any possible assistance to stay safe.

After visiting the Monk, we stopped at Fish Cave to grab a bite to eat at the woman's food stall. There were hardly any people at the park. There is typically 5 to 10 vans of tourists in the parking lot. There was only one other pickup truck besides ours. We ended up spending about 30 minutes sitting and relaxing with the woman and her young son.

We then drove to the Buddhist Meditation Center a little further up the road. We had discovered the retreat on our last trip to Maehongson. It is a very peaceful and relaxing setting with impeccably maintained grounds nestled along a fast flowing stream between a series of craggy hills. People from around the world go to the center to learn or to improve their meditation techniques.

As we pulled off of Highway 1095 to drive along the narrow road to the Center, we came upon four young boys absolutely enjoying themselves at the local swimming hole. A small dam across the stream running parallel to Highway 1095 has developed a small area of deeper water suitable for swimming. After overcoming their initial shock of me stopping the truck in the middle of the road, getting out, and starting to photograph them, the boys put on a show for us. They took turns running across the road and doing somersaults into the water. As I showed them their photographs, their enthusiasm increased proportionally. After demonstrations of their acrobatic prowess, there were a couple of races between the boys. It was entertaining for us to watch the boys enjoying themselves in such a simple and innocent past time.

We eventually arrived at the Mediation Center - we met the Abbott and he invited us to join the students for lunch. We had eaten at Fish Cave so we declined. As Duang paid her respects and made her offering to the Buddha shrine, the Abbott and I started talking. Duang joined us and we ended up talking for an hour prior to his next scheduled class. He was well educated and well travelled. He had travelled several times to the USA to teach meditation.

The Monk gave us his blessing, and gave us some unsolicited marriage counselling - I was to be sure to take good care of Duang as well as listen to her (how did he know about this morning?) and she was to take good care of me as well as to listen to me. As part of our discussions we talked about life in Thailand and in the USA. The subject of recent violence in America came up. I remarked that in general Americans had placed their faith in material things and material institutions. Now that there is a crisis and these items are wiped out or greatly reduced, these people have nothing left to believe in. Their faith and confidence have been greatly affected. For many this has deprived them of a moral or ethical compass to proceed with their life. The results are increased violence and depression - mental as well as monetary.

From the mediation Center we continued on to the end of Highway 1285. End of Highway 1285? On the map it showed that there was a market town of Ban Huai Phueng on the border with Myanmar (Burma). We had never been there before. We had time. We had a truck, so we headed north west. We passed another Army checkpoint without any incident. The Thai Army has many checkpoints in the area in efforts to prevent smuggling of refugees as well as amphetamines into Thailand from Myanmar.

After awhile the excellent two lane paved road narrowed down to a narrow road winding through small settlements. At one point where the road had narrowed to a single lane we came upon two large stacks of dried garlic bundles along side of the road. Two men were walking up a steep hillside to road level with huge piles of garlic suspended on both ends of a long bamboo rod carried over their shoulder. We stopped to photograph the men at their work. They were Shan farm workers paid to harvest the dried garlic from the fields in the land below the road elevation, transport it up the hill and stack it along the side of the road awaiting transport by truck to a large drying barn like we had visited the day before. The men work from 8:00 A.M. to 5:00 A. M. and earn 100 Baht ($3.50 USD) a day. This is back breaking manual work performed in a smoke filled atmosphere for $0.43 an hour. Of course there are no social security benefits, retirement plans, unemployment benefits, life insurance coverage or medical insurance available for these workers.

We spoke with the two workers and learned that they were happy because there was plenty of work available these days. I could not help but think that at $3.50 a day no doubt that there would be plenty of work available!

The men told us about the area up ahead on the road to the border. We set out for the market town but never got there. We got close but not there. When we were about 5 miles from the border we came to a roadblock. The military man was undoubtedly surprised to see a falang driving a truck out in the middle of no where headed for the Burma border. Through Duang I found out that the area was closed beyond the road barrier and that photography was not allowed. He was friendly and pleasant so I informed him through Duang that if photography was not allowed, I didn't want to go there. We all had a laugh. We turned around and returned to the garlic worker's work location.

I parked the truck off of the road and we walked over to better view the work. We climbed down the hill about 200 feet to a narrow bamboo bridge spanning a clear stream. I set up and photographed the men crossing the four bamboo stalk wide bridge with their loads of garlic on their journey to and from the garlic fields to the staging point high above along side the paved road. The land from the road to the stream was filled with long yai fruit trees. The long yai fruit is very tasty and refreshing. The long yai trees are also the favorite habitat of the red ants that the people of Isaan are fond of eating. It turns out that the Shan people also eat the ants and ant eggs.

The workers invited and eventually convinced us to cross the bamboo bridge. We followed the men across the bouncy bridge and joined them on the other side. The other side was a series of dry and harvested rice paddies. On a previous trip in December 2006 to the region, I had photographed local people planting garlic. Crops are rotated in rice paddies to optimize available growing seasons and to assist in improving the poor soil. After harvesting the rice crop in November, the Shan people had planted garlic as a supplemental crop. That crop has completed growing, drying in the field, and is now ready to be harvested in April. After navigating a maze of dikes surrounding the paddies and crossing some paddies we arrived at the work sight. Several men and women were on their knees busy pulling garlic bulbs out of the ground. They were surprised to see us, mostly likely me in particular. I surmise that not to many foreigners make it out to this garlic field.

In no time at all, Duang had charmed them and I had sufficiently amused them so everyone was comfortable as well as relaxed. My previous photographs at the bridge were facing the sun. Now that we were on the other side of the bridge, it was possible to have the sun at my back. I made my way back to the bridge over the flowing waters. Carefully selecting where to place my feet, I was able to make it to a large rock in the middle of the stream - safe, sound, and dry. I did have to share my perch in the stream with many small butterflies as well as many flying insects. The flying insects were annoying but apparently not health endangering.

I spent a good amount of time in the stream taking photographs of the men transporting the garlic across the bridge. I went back to the harvesting site to see that Duang had joined the team in harvesting the garlic. Since I was wearing my pakama on my head like Lao Loum men in Isaan, the Shan people decided that I needed to try my hand at harvesting garlic. After an initial failure in harvesting grass rather than garlic which created a great deal of laughing, I was able to make some progress harvesting the garlic. It was back breaking work. I joked that with the way I worked, I would make about 5 baht a day. The Shan people were not done with me yet. I had harvested a good handful of dry garlic on their stalks but not enough to create one of the many bundles required to be placed on the bamboo poles to be hauled up the hill. My picking partner gave me her garlic. A man came along and tied the stalks together with one of the many strips of bamboo that he had on his back. One of the porters that we had spoken to earlier came up to me with his loaded bamboo rod. My new bundle was added to the load and the bamboo pole with garlic bundles was placed over my shoulder. The bamboo rod is about 4 to 5 inches in diameter and about 6 feet long. Each end of the rod is loaded with approximately 25 pounds of garlic. It was definitely a load. I may have been able to make it to the bridge but there was no way I could have climbed the four bamboo rungs to get up on to the bridge. On a very very good day, if some how I had managed to get across the bridge with the garlic, I possibly and just maybe may I would be able to get the garlic up the 200 foot high 35 degree slope to the paved road. To do this for eight hours a day - no way! To do it for $3.50 a day and not complain - as they said in the 1939 classic film -"Gunga Din" based on the Rudyard Kipling poem - " You are a better man than I am, Gunga Din" The Shan farm workers have my admiration and respect. Once again the reality of the world collides with our past experiences and perceptions - another reason why I enjoy living in S.E. Asia learning and experiencing life from a different perspective.

We returned to the hotel around 5:00 P. M. exhausted, satisfied, and content with the day's activities as well the insights into other people's lives that we had witnessed.