The Mountain Porter - Huangshan Mountain, China



A Huangshan Mountain Porter Showing the Strain of His Labor

Living and working overseas gave me the opportunity to see how many different people earn their living.  As much as we all take pride in how hard we work or used to work, there are those people throughout the world that most likely work much harder than us and for a great deal less money than we do.

Malaysian Rubber Plantation Workers Offload Raw Latex at Field Station

During my time in Malaysia I encountered some very hard working people - rubber plantation workers outside of Kuantan in the State of Pahang Darul Makmur.  These thin and wiry men went about the vast rubber plantation on small motorbikes collecting the latex one-half balls that were formed in the process of tapping the rubber trees.  We found the workers discharging their harvest at a small weigh-in station in the heart of the plantation.  The workers were hot and sweaty from the jungle's hot and humid air along with their physical exertions associated with walking from tree to tree to collect a semi-spherical glob of tree sap, loading their bike up with hundreds of these globs and perilously navigating the trails back to the weigh station to offload their cargo and recommence the process.  It appeared that their pay was related to how much material they brought to the station for the men were very hectic as well as frantic in the labor.  The smell of the raw latex only seemed to accentuate the sense of urgency about the workers.  I often think of these men as some of the hardest working people that I have ever encountered - so far.

Malaysian Rubber plantation Weigh-In Station

Another group of hard working men are the mountain porters of Huangshan Mountain (Yellow Mountain).  I became familiar with them in 2004 during a photography tour of China or more correctly a potion of China.  Three weeks in China only serves to remind you of how much you have missed and why you need to return to witness and photograph in the vast and very interesting land.

As I wrote in yesterday's blog, Huangshan Mountain receives over 15 million visitors a year.  It is a national park so there are certain environmental as well as land use restriction placed upon the area.  Access to the upper reaches of the peaks is by cable cars or hiking up trails.  As tourists on a three week tour we took the cable cars up and down the mountains.

We originally stayed in the Cloud Valley, elevation 890 meters (2,920 feet) at the base of the mountains.  We spent one night on the mountain at the Bei Hai Guest House, elevation 1,630 meters (5,347 feet).  To get to the Bei Hai Guest House we took an 8 minute approximately 2,500 foot ascent by way of cable car.  Needless to say, the view and scenery were spectacular.  Since we were only spending one night on the mountain we took only a small overnight bag with us.  The remainder of our luggage remained in storage in the Cloud Valley.

At the terminus of the cable car, we were greeted by porters who offered to carry luggage up to the hotel(s).  I don't know if I was cheap, proud, or a masochist but I ended up carrying my backpack of camera gear on my back and lugging our overnight carry-on sized bag the twenty minutes UP to the hotel.  The porters typically carried 6 to 8 bags distributed 3 to 4 bags on the ends of a bamboo pole carried across their shoulders.  I estimate that they were carrying roughly 120 to 160 pounds of luggage each.  In addition they were constantly passing me up the paved trail and stairs to the hotel area.  That was my introduction to the hard working mountain porters of Huangshan.


 Porters Hauling Supplies to Observation Station On Huangshan Mountain

I later found out and observed that all materials required to support tourism and the government observatory on the mountain are transported up and down the mountain on the backs of the porters.  Foods, drinks, linens, cleaning supplies, alcohol, paper goods and all other items required to maintain and satisfy tourists and resident workers on the mountain are bundled up and hauled up the mountain on a trail that rises almost a mile from the valley to the mountain peaks.  Waste, garbage, and dirty linens are hauled down the mountain along the trails to the valley for disposition.

Food On Its Way to the Observatory

The porters to the government observation station on the mountain are apparently paid by the weight of the material that they haul up the mountain.  At the back of the large stone observation building, the porters deliver their goods and congregate as their cargo is carefully weighed and recorded in a ledger book.

Fresh Food Arriving at the Observatory

The Porter's Cargo Is Carefully Weighed and Recorded

As I walked along the trail with my 25 pound backpack of camera gear from the hotel over to the observatory and eventually a place that I called Sunset Point, I was often passed by porters bearing approximately 150 to 200 pound loads on their shoulders.  The combination of my exertions at the elevation, the steepness of the trail in places, the many steps along the way as well as watching the porters as they hustled along made me thirsty as well as tired.  I had brought along drinking water with me but it was as I was exhausted less than one-half the way to my destination.  I was apparently not the first tourist to be in that situation.  Along the trail there are some benches where you can "enjoy the scenery" and definitely catch your breadth and also as in my case wait to photograph the porters as they came upon you unaware of your presence.  As for your thirst; you have to eventually make your way to the observatory to find vendors selling water, juices, and soft drinks.  As for the porters ... they never rested and carried a small bottle of water on top of the concave bamboo pole upon which their cargo was suspended.

I made so inquiries regarding the porters and was told that they make two round trips a day.  Two round trips a day?  On a good day I think that I might make it up from the valley to the hotel but without an load.  These guys carry approximately 800 pounds of stuff up almost 1-1/2 miles and down 1-1/2 miles in elevation during a day - everyday.  I do not know what their total mileage for a day is but I find just the accumulation of elevation change to be impressive - definitely a great deal more work than I have ever done in any day with or without the cargo on their shoulders.


A Porter Approaches the Bei Hai Guest House with His Cargo



A Porter Prepares His Load for the Trek Down from Bei Hai Gust House

Most of the porters wore a distinctive yellow vest similar to the vests worn by motorbike taxi drivers in Thailand.  I suspect that like in Thailand the vest indicates that they belong to a labor organization, are licenced, or sanctioned by the government to perform their work.




Kitchen Supplies Arriving at the Bei Hai Guest House



Back Door Delivery of Beer, Soft Drinks, and Cooking Oil

Another surprising aspect of the porter operations on the yellow Mountain was the age of some of the porters.  Many of them were past middle age and were what I consider to be elderly.  I did not see any young men hauling goods on the mountain.

An Old Man of the Mountain

An Elderly Porter Delivers His Goods

A Busy Day On the Mountain

Observing people such as the mountain porters of Huangshan makes one appreciate their own choice and definitely the opportunities available to us to earn an easier living .  In witnessing their labor, I could not help but to respect them more and admire their abilities.

Never Too Busy or Too Tired to Not Smile

 The next time that I feel that I have it rough at my job or status in life, I will take a moment and reflect upon the trials and tribulations of the Huangshan mountain porters and then reconsider my situation.

Locked In Love, Throw Away the Key - Huangshan



Lover's Locks On Lotus Peak of Huangshan Mountain Range

Things are developing into a new normal here in Groton so I hope to be finding more time for writing.

When I was back in Isaan just before returning to America, I embarked upon a new project.  I intended to make a video, still film, and musical presentation related to our grandson's first two years.  In starting the project I became annoyed with many blank icons appearing in Adobe Premiere Elements 7.0, my video software.  I knew that the blank icons were photos from my Adobe Photoshop Elements software.  I decided to eliminate the nuisance by deleting all of the blank icons appearing in Premiere Elements.  I assumed that the video software was setting up a separate database of media in Premiere and that with 36,000 files the program was overwelhmed and my patience was over taxed.  My plan was to eliminate the Premiere database and only import media into the video program as I need specific files.  Upon completing the elimination of all those pesky blank icons in Adobe Premiere, I was shocked to discover that my entire catalog in Adobe Photoshop Elements had been deleted as well - 36,000 photographs annotated for people, places, and things.  Each photograph had an average of 6 keywords assigned to them.  I immediately started the daunting task of recreating my photo database.  I finally finished the task late last week.  If there is a saving grace in having eliminated the original database, it would be that I had an opportunity to experience so many fond memories once again and to develop ideas for future blogs of which this is my first.

There are many myths and tales associated with lovers in cultures around the world.  Unfortunately it seems to me that the myths, stories, legends, and tales are typically about unrequited love or tragic love.  There does not seem to be all that many stories about people falling in love, staying together, and enjoying their lives together.  I guess it is somewhat like the saying associated with the newspaper industry - "Bad news sells papers, not good news"  Just as we often find the "Bad boys" or "Bad girls" more interesting and exciting in our youth, we seem to enjoy stories and tales of ill fated love more desirable and memorable than ones of dreams fulfilled.

Shakespeare penned "Romeo and Juliet"

In Brasil the Guarani Indian legend of "Naipi and Taruba" explains the origins of Fos do Iguazu Falls in a tale of good love leading to anguish.

The Greeks had plenty of these tales of woe which included "Narcissus and Echo", and "Orpheus and Eurydice".

The Romans through the poet, Ovid, gave Western civilization the Babylonian love story of "Pyramus and Thisbe".  Two forbidden lovers who commit separate suicides after mistakenly believing that the other was dead - a great cautionary tale of why we need to verify facts and conditions before acting.  No matter the lessons to be learned or not from this tale - it is a story of good love with a tragic ending.

The Chinese also have made contributions to man's panoply of tragic lovers stories, tales and legends.  In recreating my catalog of photographs, I was reminded of the legend associated with Huangshan China.

Huangshan is a mountain range in the southern part Anhui Province which is located in Eastern China.  The mountain range is also commonly referred to in English as "Yellow Mountains".  The area is a very popular tourist destination for foreign as well as Chinese travelers.  Over 15 million people visit the area annually.

There are several high peaks in the range with Lian Hua Feng (Lotus Peak), 1864m (6,058ft) being the center of a Chinese legend of ill fated lovers.  The legend is about a beautiful young girl (why are there not many legends about ugly middle aged women?) who fell in love with a poor young man.  The girl's father, thinking in his daughter's or perhaps his best interests, did not want his daughter to marry a poor man.  Her father arranged for his daughter to marry a rich man whom she naturally did not love or want to be married to.  On the day of her scheduled wedding to the rich man, the poor young man kidnapped her and the they fled to Huangshan Mountain.  They ended up on Lian Hua Feng, held hands, and jumped off the peak into a deep ravine.



A Vendor Prepares to Engrave Locks For Lovers

Today people travel to the peak not just for the sheer wonder and beauty of the location but to commemorate the lovers of the legend.  They purchase a pair of padlocks, have them engraved with their names perhaps along with some sentimental words, lock the padlocks together on a guard rail or safety chain along the edge of the peak, and throw the keys into the abyss below.  It is believed that locking the locks together will keep the lovers together for a whole lifetime.  If one of the lovers wishes to breakup, they have to return to Huangshan Mountain, find their key and unlock their locks.  This would be an extremely daunting task not to mention the rumors or rather allegations that local vendors have been recycling the locks.  I can't imagine the horror you would experience upon returning with all intentions and good faith of breaking up with your lover only to realize that your locks are no longer there. It is difficult enough to search and find a key cast into a steep ravine from the side of a mountain years earlier but not having your locks where you placed them would be heart breaking to you instead of your lover.


Verifying the Words to be Engraved

Some people will install locked padlocks to the safety chains and guardrails on the peak to seek family happiness and for children's health.  I don't know how this equates or is tied to the lover's legend but it sells padlocks and keeps the local vendor's happy as well as busy.



Lover's Locks Afixed to Guardrail and Safety Chain

Huangshan mountain is reknowned for its scenery and unique vegetation.  The area has been the subject of  many paintings, poems and undoubtedly millions of photographs.  The area is also famous for many naturally occurring strangely shaped granite rocks.  I am not sure all the rocks are granite or that they are naturally occurring - they might be natural shapes but I wonder if man did not have a hand in forming some of them - or at least one of them.


I Don't Know the Chinese Name for this Rock, But I Have an English Name for it!

Perhaps it is like mysteries of the universe as well as with religion, it is best to just accept it at face value rather than to try to explain or strive fully understand what very well may not be understandable.  It is also OK to just smile and enjoy the moments.

One of the World's Beautiful Places

Frozen In Time



Duang Hibernating On Cold Afternoon In New England

We have been in America for two weeks establishing our home in my boyhood town of Groton, Connecticut.

My wife is getting accustomed to American culture and Connecticut weather.  Everything is so new as well as different for her.  It is also very new as well as different for me.

I essentially left my home town in 1967 when I went off to college.  In 1975, I left New England for 35 years.  Although I had made some visits during those years the visits were never longer than 5 to 7 days until last May when I came alone for a month to care for my parents.  We are now becoming residents once again.

Duang is adapting and adjusting to New England climate - 15F (-11C) low temperatures, ice on the roads and sidewalks, snow on the ground, and cool temperatures in the house.  She often wears an outdoor coat, scarf, and sometimes even a knitted hat inside of the house.  She has even taken an afternoon nap wearing outdoor clothing underneath a sheet, a blanket, and two bedspreads on top of the bed.  I had tried to explain to her what -5C, or -11C was like but it was difficult for her to comprehend since she considers 68F (20C) to be "cold".  I believe that the coldest weather that she has experienced was around 55F (13C) in Vietnam.  I told her about "nam kiang" ice cubes on the ground, and in the rivers but I am not certain that the concept of temperatures below freezing was familiar to her.  No matter the case she is aware of it now.

The strange thing for me is that places and things have also been frozen in time so to speak.  Last week two of my Aunts visited.  One of my Aunts is going to be a Great-Grandmother once again - for the ninth time.   My cousins that I last saw in the late 1960's are now Grandparents.  In my mind they are still the 8, 9 and 10 year old children that I knew in the late 60's.

The same is true for my home town.  I remember places and things from the 50s and 60s.  Many of the places and things that are long gone in reality.  The former Melody Rolling Skating Rink was used by Electric Boat for so many years as office space that it has now become a roller skating rink once again.  As the French say - "The more things change the more that they stay the same".  It also may be like being lost in the wild, once you become lost you will most likely end up walking in a big circle to whence you came.  I do not believe that the "King" and Queen" of the Melody Rolling Skate Rink have returned to the venue.  I last heard that April is now in Australia and who knows where Bruce with his DA (Duck's Ass) haircut may have ended up - hopefully wherever he is, he has a different hairstyle!

I drove Duang down to Eastern Point Beach where so many of my summer days were spent swimming and playing basketball. During the summer of 1967, I spent all but one day at the beach - even playing basketball or swimming in the rain.  The beach has changed - the Kiddy Pool, a small beach on the Thames River is now walled off.  The grassy area where the "In Crowd" congregated seems so much smaller now and so much less important than it was in the early 1960s.  the beach that was free to "walk-ins" now charges admission.  Parking for non-residents is $10.  The offshore rafts which served as a right of passage are no longer there - removed upon the advice of a city

Pfizers large pharmaceutical plant down the road from my parent's home is long gone.  All the large buildings that produced antibiotics, medicines and other chemicals are been demolished and replaced by campus style research buildings.  The manufacturing jobs have been outsourced to far away places like Ireland, India, Puerto Rico, and probably China.  Last week it was announced that 1,100 of the highly paid white collar positions at the research labs were being eliminated - once again outsourced to low cost centers such as China and India.  In the global economy, very few jobs are really secure - there is always someone willing to do your work just as well for a lot less money somewhere else.  For companies and stockholders focused solely on profits, those are the places selected to do the work.

Yesterday, Duang and I went to see the film, "Doctor Zhivago", at a local theater.  I had seen it several times before since it was first released in 1965.  Duang who was 2 years old at the time has never seen the movie.  In 2006 on a date, I brought her to only the third movie that she had ever seen.  Life is different back in Isaan.  Her life experiences are so much different than mine.  I am pleased to finally be able to show her some of the places and things that have shaped a large part of my life as well as introduce her to some of the people who have affected my life.

Duang loved the movie and it was fun to watch her viewing the film.  I enjoyed the film also and saw it in a different light.  On previous occaissons I viewed it as a history lesson, an instructional in cinematography and directing, a story of class struggle, as well as a portent of what was to come if the Soviet Union prevailed in the Cold War.  All perspectives influenced by current events and personal experiences of the given times.

Yesterday I viewed it from the life experience of a man who also had left his wife to be with a younger woman who he thoroughly loved despite social conventions.  For the first time, I could emphathize and appreciate the heart as well as the soul of the film.  I could value the passion that the film so realisticly portrays.  It is passion and the value placed upon passion by other cultures that has richly enhanced my life and brought me great happiness.  Becoming unabashed regarding recognizing and accepting emotions can be liberating.  I consider myself to have reached this point with the help and encouragement of my  friends.

On an aside, after experiencing two winters in Northern Alberta, the winter scenes of the film had lost much of their impact upon me.  Once when travelling through the barren ice ladden country between Edmonton and Fort McMurray in December on a bus in -40 weather I thought of "Doctor Zhivago".  After seeing the film yesterday, I realize that my Northern Canada experience was more beautiful and memorable.

Upon returning home last night from our first date here in America, my parents asked if I saw anyone that I knew.  I said I most likely did but I did not recognize anyone.  It has been 43 years since graduating from high school and I am beginning to realize that although people are frozen in time, in reality they have moved along in the years, growing older, and changing their appearance just as I have.

By chance the movie "Mystic Pizza" was on television the other night.  I used to go there often with my friends Nicky and Nick - long before it was Mystic Pizza and famous; back when it was smaller and called "Ted's".  We had a good childhood back in those days; days when the shipyard was working to capacity to build submarines, and we used to say that we didn't need to take vitamins because the odors from Pfizer kept us healthy.  Some landmarks remain from the old days, one of them being "Angie's Pizza" on the Mystic - Stonington border on Highway 1 - gonna have to try it out once again.

As time moves on here in Groton, I am confident that memories will become updated and new memories will be created. Until then people, places and things will remain for me remain frozen - frozen in time.

Cockfighting

Cockfight In Luang Namtha, Lao People's Democratic Republic

Duang and I have been back in the United States for a little over a week now.  We had Internet connection installed two days ago so we are now able to access the world quite easily once again.

On the Internet the other day there was a story about a man being killed in California by an "armed rooster".  Allegedly the man had been stabbed by a fighting rooster that had a "knife" strapped to its leg.  Police stated that ..."sharp force injury" to his right calf.
I do not believe that we have heard the last of this story.  I find it difficult to believe that a chicken killed the man - unless the chicken was "Superchicken" from cartoon and film fame or that the knife attached to the chicken's leg was a KA-Bar knife (U. S. Marine Corps fighting knife) or similar weapon.

The report was that when the Police arrived at the site of the cockfight the spectators fled. I suspect that the victim had been stabbed in the calf by a chicken but not any chicken of the species Gallus Gallus.

Why am I writing about this event?  I have attended three cockfights that I can remember in Thailand as well as in Laos.  Having seen cockfights, I have difficulty understanding how a fighting rooster could mortally wound a human by stabbing the person in the leg through his trousers.

I saw my first cockfight about three years ago in Tahsang Village.  Duang and I had returned to Thailand after living as well as working in Vietnam.  We had returned to Isaan and were staying at a hotel outside of Kumphawapi near Duang's home village.  We often went to her home village of Tahsang to visit family and friends.  It was during one of the visits that a cousin stopped by Duang's home to announce and invite me to a cockfight.  I had never seen a cockfight before and my knowledge of them was limited to some television reports of illegal cockfighting in California, some scenes from Hollywood movies, and a newspaper article or two.  Being curious and wishing to experience as much of Lao Loum and Thai culture that I could, I accepted the invitation with a certain amount of trepidation.  I was apprehensive that either the Police would raid the event and I would be arrested only a short time after returning to Thailand or that the gory spectacle would physically sicken me.

I followed Duang's cousin down the village lane towards the flood plain outside of the village.  We were joined by people of all ages excitedly and animatedly walking in the same direction.  Shortly we arrived at a small wood house.  Outside of the home a makeshift arena, cockpit, had been constructed of the finely woven plastic netting that the villagers use to store harvested sheaves of rice on while awaiting threshing.  The fine netting captures the rice kernels that fall from the rice stalks due to handling and prevents them from being wasted.  The cockpit was about 2-1/2 feet high (750 mm) and 5 feet in diameter (1,500 mm).  The surface of the cockpit was compacted dirt.  Surrounding the arena were several woven bamboo domes underneath which was a rooster.  The bamboo domes are widely seen throughout Thailand and the Lao People's Democratic Republic (LPDR).  The domes are used to store chickens that are for sale at the local markets and used to shelter chickens at village homes.  In Isaan the chickens are all "free range chickens" - chickens roam about the houses feeding off of the land until the day that they contribute to the family's nourishment.  Families in Tahsang Village typically eat chicken twice a month.

My apprehension regarding a Police raid was immediately abated upon arrival at the fighting site; it was the home of the village Policeman.  I also learned that cockfighting was not illegal in Thailand.  Cockfighting is a longtime component of Thai culture which is widely practiced today.  Cockfighting is also very prevalent throughout Southeast Asia.  Although cockfighting is legal in Thailand, gambling is not legal.  However, Thailand is Thailand and things are not often the way they seem or are supposed to be.  Often in Isaan as well as Thailand I am reminded of the Catholic practice of granting dispensations - under certain circumstances or "considerations" the law can be "overlooked".  Since the village policeman was involved in the event, there was a wide and open display of betting on the outcome of the bouts - no different than what I witnessed at Muay-Thai bouts in Pattaya and Bangkok.

My apprehension over becoming physically ill dissipated as the bout wore on.  Unlike press accounts that I had read or television reports regarding cockfighting, these roosters did not wear razor blades or knives on their legs.  To the contrary, the naturally occurring spurs on their legs were actually taped up to prevent injuries to the combatants.  The combatants were however injured from pecking each other on the top of the head during their fight.  The roosters fight to assert dominance ... hmmm to establish a pecking order so to speak.  In addition to a natural proclivity to establish ranking and breeding rights, gamecocks are selectively bred to reinforce their fighting instincts towards each other.

Prior to their bout, each rooster is carefully prepared for their bout.  The bird is washed with water that has "chicken medicine" dissolved in it.  The "chicken medicine" which heats up the water gives the chicken "power".  After the bird is bathed the rooster is force fed some water with medicine in it as well as some rice water for additional strength and endurance.

The match commences by the handlers introducing the roosters to each other. Some people may doubt or feign to debate if there is truly love at first sight however with gamecocks there is no question that there is instant hate at first sight.  Once the roosters are aware of each other's presence they are placed inside of the ring.  The birds are allowed to fight for 15 minutes and then allowed to rest for about 10 minutes before going at it again for another 15 minutes.  A match can last up to 3 rounds but the fight is stopped when one of the roosters gives up.  The handlers and spectators shout their encouragement to their favorite rooster but do nothing to interfere with the match.  My general impression of my first cockfight was that it was boring and rather pointless.  However my impression was created through my cultural experiences, traditions and my upbringing.  For the people of Southeast Asia and other countries, cockfighting has a long tradition and is part of their cultural fabric.

In the match that I watched, a winner was declared or rather was very apparent in the second round.  It was a major disappointment for the local people.  The pride of Thasang Village had lost to a chicken from BANGKOK!  Just as in America there is nothing more galling than to have the cityslicker beat the country people at their own game!  Besides the bets that were lost on the match, a great deal of pride and prestige were lost by the early loss by the Tahsang rooster.  Although the match was not to the death and the fight was not too bloody, there was a fatality from the event ... the next day as I walked by the losing rooster's handler's home I saw a pot of boiling water over an open wood fire with chicken or rather rooster legs sticking out of the pot.  The losing rooster was going to be eaten.  Fighting roosters who have a record of winning are valuable assets to a family and are cared for.  Roosters who fail to win become a meal for the family - winning is everything for a gamecock.

When we were in Luang Namtha, Laos a year ago, I found some young village boys outside of our hotel, The Boat Landing Restaurant and Hotel, engaged in cockfighting.  The boys and their fighting birds had ridden their bicycles over to the flat grassy area outside of the hotel compound and had their bouts.  For the fight that I witnessed and photographed there were no bets.  It appeared that prestige, bragging rights, and pride were at stake.  Once again the birds did not wear any blades or knives and their natural spurs, if they had them, were taped to minimize injuries.  Midway into the third round the boys stopped the fight when it became apparent one bird had quit fighting.  The only apparent injuries that I saw were peck marks on top of the rooster's head.  Once again I found the event to be pointless.

On our last trip to Laos in December there was cockfighting at the Hmong New Years Festival in Luang Prabang.  Gambling is legal in the Lao People's Democratic Republic so there was plenty of heavy waging in plain view.  For these bouts the arena was constructed of bamboo posts and cardboard walls from recycled refrigerator boxes.  The interior walls of the arena had smudges of blood on them from the head wounds of the combatants.  As was my previous observations, the fighting birds did not wear any blades or knives on their legs.  I do not know if they fought to the death or not because I had better things, in my opinion, to watch and photograph.

Having seen cockfights, I have a real basis for my opinions regarding the practice as well as the probability that a California man was actually stabbed to death in the leg by a chicken.  I don't believe that a chicken did or could kill a human by stabbing them in the calf no matter what size or type of blade or knife the chicken had on their leg.  It is possible in my opinion that a gamecock could kill a human with a strike across the jugular vein if the chicken had an Exacto knife sized razor type blade attached to its leg.  My point is ... you can not nor should you believe everything just because it is written or posted.  You must always trust your own judgement and intuition and sometimes ...and wait for as Paul Harvey used to say "the rest of the story".

As for cockfighting, I do not find it to be either a sport or entertaining.  However that is my opinion based upon my traditions and cultural experience.  I do not feel a need to ban it from countries where it is a tradition and part of the people's culture - it's none of my business.  However, I do not support or tolerate the practice in my country.

The Times They Are Changing, Allen's World Too



Duang With A Pakama Wrapped Around Her Head

 A great motivation for pursuing an Immigration Visa for my wife was to be prepared for the time when I would have to return to America to care for my parents.  That time has arrived.

In one week Duang and I will be in America, staying in Connecticut, caring for my parents.

Life does not always, or perhaps it never plays out the way we planned or would have hoped.  However changes present opportunities as well as challenges.  It really is all up to us and how well we allow ourselves to adapt, recognize the opportunities, take advantage of the opportunities, and overcome the challenges.

I had looked into visiting Malaysia to visit Batu Caves during Thaipusam.  Thaipusam is a Tamil Hindu festival where people pierce their bodies to carry ornate structures up to the cave as demonstrations of their faith.  Over a million people attend the event.  It has a tremendous photography potential as well being another unique Southeast Asia experience.  Not attending this year will just have to be greater motivation and justification to attend a future celebration.

We had planned on returning to Maehongson to attend the Poi Sang Long Festival where young Shan boys are ordained as Novice Monks.  It is a very colorful and inspiring event - an event that we will attend once again in the future.

My blogs have largely dealt with my experiences in living here in Isaan as well as our travels and experiences in Southeast Asia.  Now with my return and Duang's immigration to America, I suspect that the focus of this blog will change.  Although I will continue to write blogs and share some of the photographs of far away places, many of the blogs will be related to Duang's experiences in adapting to America and American culture.  I also expect that some of the blogs will also deal with my observations and experiences re-adapting to life in America.

I have lived outside of America for all but 2-1/2 years of the past 11 years.  When I did live in America it was in California - a long way physically and culturally from New England.  It should be interesting for sure.

Gone to the Races



A School Girl Running Just For Fun

We have been very busy the past month with the final processing of Duang's Immigration Visa to the USA, Duang's son's wedding, Christmas, Hmong New Years in Laos, New Year's Eve and now making arrangements to return to the USA shortly.  One of the surprises that we had was attending a School Field Day.

Last year, at the end of December, we attended a School Field Day involving 6 elementary schools in the vicinity of Tahsang Village. It was a colorful and entertaining day of pageantry, ceremony, and athletic competition.  This year at the end of December we were in Bangkok for Duang's immigration interview at the American Consulate and to celebrate New Year's Eve.  With our business in Bangkok I believed that we were going to miss out on this year's event.

On January 6th we drove out to Tahsang Village in the morning to participate in a merit making ritual for Duang's youngest brother.  Duang was going to have water poured over her by the local Monk as part of the ritual - sort of a super blessing reminiscent of being sprinkled with Holy Water by a Priest in a Catholic Church.  A couple of month's ago Duang planned on the "shower" blessing but because of the cold weather (73F, 23C) she opted out and instead had a more common blessing of water sprinkled on her by the Monk using a brush constructed of very coarse reeds.

Tahsang Village Monk Participates in Merit Making Ritual

I reminded Duang about the cold weather but she told me that she was bringing warm clothes to change into after her big blessing.  I was still not convinced or confident - she wears a sweat suit outfit to bed and covers up with a sheet and heavy comforter now that it has gotten cold (68F and 20C) in our bedroom.  Well once we got out of the truck and walked to wear the ritual would be performed, Duang changed her mind and once again opted out and went for the customary sprinkle blessing rather than the shower blessing.

Competitors Turning the Corner During A Relay Race

After the ritual we found out that there was a School Field day going on in a nearby village.  We gathered up the usual suspects, I mean family members, in Tahsang Village and headed out to the site of the School Field Day.  After driving along narrow roads, dirt roads, past sugar cane harvesting and fallow rice paddies, and even through a couple small villages, we arrived at the elementary school that was hosting the school competition.

We were arriving in the late morning so we had missed the parade of the competitors and their classmates as well as the opening ceremonies.  Several of the young school girls were still coiffed and wearing their heavy make up from the parade but had changed from their fancy traditional clothing into their athletic clothing - shorts and soccer style jerseys.

Schoolchildren Enjoying Themselves and Cheering their Classmates

Just as was the arrangements last year, there were six elementary schools participating in the field day.  Each school had a decorated bleacher set up for the athletes, and their classmates.  Several parents, relatives, younger siblings, as well as neighbors accompanied each of the schools contingents.  It was a very festive atmosphere albeit somewhat chaotic.  Each of the schools, all six of them, had their own public address system along with huge speakers.  Mahlam Lao or more specifically Mahlam Sing music blasted from each of the systems.  The children in the bleachers danced, waved pom-poms, and performed cheering routines.  It was very obvious that they were thoroughly enjoying themselves.  Off to the side of the bleachers, there were stalls, booths, and motorcycle sidecars selling food and soft drinks.  Besides being filled with the hubbub of competing music, the air was filled with the smells from Isaan ethnic food and smoke from small charcoal fires.

"Runner, Get Ready!"



"Go!"

We arrived in time to watch the relay races amongst the schools.  There was no cinder track for the competitors.  There was no artificial track for the competitors.  The relay races were conducted on a grass field that served as the ordinary play field for the school's students.

Her Hair and Makeup Intact From Earlier Procession, A Girl Sets Off In Her Race

The runners did not wear spiked track shoes.  The runners did not wear any type of sport shoes.  They wore no shoes.  They ran barefoot.  For children that wear flip flops or go barefoot in their villages, running barefoot is only natural and not unexpected.  This was running boiled down to its essence and uncomplicated by outside technology or any perceived competitive advantages.  It was competition for sport and glory.

Tahsang Village did not do very well in the races except for one of the girl relay teams.  Just as they did last year the girls won.  One of the girls, Behm, is related to Duang and often drops by to watch me edit photographs when I bring my computer to the village.  Often when I sit in Momma's Market, I will be joined by several of the young village children.  I enjoy showing them pictures of things that I know that they have not had the opportunity to see for themselves.  I try to explain to them about the people, places, animals, and things that I have photographed.  Their enthusiasm and interest encourages me.

Behm (left) and Her Tahsang Village Girl's Relay Teammates

I noticed that Behm was a very fast runner.  That night I mentioned to my wife, Duang, that I thought that one reason that Behm was such a fast runner was the fact that her feet were so long and wide - just like Duang's.  I have often joked with Duang about how large her feet are.  Duange reason that Behm was such a fast runner was the fact that her feet were so long and wide - just like Duang's.  I have often joked with Duang about how large her feet are.  Duang is 5 feet tall and weighs less than 100 pounds but her feet are about twice as wide as mine and not all that much shorter than mine considering our differences in height and weight.  Duang laughed when I told her my theory as to why Behm was so fast.  Duang confided that she too was a very good runner when she was a young girl; always coming in first or second at worst.  We laughed how the "Veeboonkul" large feet made for fast runners.

Race Official Signals he Start of the Race - Banging A Recycled Artillery Shell

I sat out in the infield of the "track" and kept busy photographing the races and the activities around the field while Duang and our grandson, Peelawat, remained on the sidelines with the other Tahsang Villagers.

Go!

Girls Driving Through the Curve

After two hours, Duang came out to tell me that our grandson, Peelawat, was tired and needed to return Tahsang Village.  I looked at my watch in disbelief and realized that it had in deed been two hours.  The races were mostly not very competitive but they were very entertaining.  It was a pleasure to watch students racing for the joy of it.  Although the athletes did not have much in terms of equipment, they were making the most out of what was readily available to them.  More than that, they were enjoying themselves.

A Boy Leads His Classmates in a Very Sophisticated Dance Routine

It appeared that everyone was enjoying themselves at the Field Day.  The students exhibited excellent sportsmanship and were well supported by their families.  The children in addition to either competing or cheering also took advantage of the opportunity to eat and drink with friends outside on a sunny day in Isaan; not all that bad of a way to spend a day outside of the classroom.

Once again I was witness to the manifestation that it is not what you have that brings happiness but appreciating and making do with what you have that can bring some happiness.

The Games That Some People Play ...

A Hmong Young Man Plays Pov Pob

The games that some people play ... is not about deception, cheating, or the manipulation of human emotions or social intercourse.

The games that some people play ... is not about politics or even politicians.

The games that some people play ... is not about international affairs involving Iran, North Korea, the USA, or any other country.

This blog is literally about some of the games that we saw the Hmong people playing during our trip to Laos in early December 2010.

A Hmong Beauty Prepares to Catch A Ball

We had gone up to Luang Prabang to once again witness the Hmong New Years Celebration.  The Hmong people in Laos celebrate New Year after the harvest and in accordance to the stage of the moon in accordance with their lunar calendarr.  It is a time for the people from various clans to get together and socialize when there is a lull in the field work.  During the Hmong New Years celebration there are spiritual rituals and observances that are rather private and mostly limited to family members. During the public aspects of the celebration there is traditional music, traditional dancing, traditional clothing, eating drinking, gambling, and socializing.  The public activities are very interesting events for at least four of the five senses - propriety limits the opportunities for the sense of touch.  Socializing besides involving sharing gossip includes playing games.

Hmong Girls Playing Pov Pob

The most widely known Hmong game is most likely "Pov Pob".  Pov Pob is a ball tossing game.  It is played throughout the year in Laos but it is special during the New Years festival.  Especially in the older times it was difficult for young Hmong men and young Hmong women to find potential mates.  Hmong people are forbidden to marry within their clan.  Since the villages are often made up exclusively of a single clan and the burdens of farming leave little time to go off in search of a potential mate.  It was at the meeting of various clans at the New Year Festival that the young people had an opportunity to meet potential husbands and wives.  This tradition continues today for the Hmong people in the Lao People's Democratic Republic (LPDR).

Pov Pob In Progress at the New Years Festival

Pov Pob is described as an activity for adolescents and akin to a courtship ritual.  That is true just as it is true to describe dancing as a fertility ritual in the United States.  Although it is true in both situations, the description is incomplete and also not completely accurate.  Just as you will see very elderly people in the USA dancing to the tunes of their youth and thoroughly enjoying themselves, you will observe older Hmong people playing Pov Pob.  The older Hmong people participating in Pov Pob like the adolescents are looking for a mate.  They are either divorced or widowed however there are some who are looking for an additional mate.  Polygamy is illegal in Laos but some old cultural practices still remain albeit not commonly.  During our visit last month we found a middle aged man who with the assistance of his middle aged wife was courting an 18 year old girl to be his wife.

Young Boy Holding a Traditional Hmong Ball for Pov Pob

Willing, if not yet capable of playing "Pov Pob"

Along with the adolescents and older  people playing the match game, there are plenty of young children who also participate in their own way in pov pob - sort of like young children dancing back in America - they imitate their older siblings and just because it is FUN.

Hmong Teenaged Men Participating in Pov Pob

Because of the match making possibilities of Pov Pob during the New Year Festival, girls wear the best traditional Hmong clothing.  Their garments are colorful, emblazoned with intricate embroidered designs.  The girls and women also wear their traditional Hmong silver jewelry.  Their ensemble is often topped off with a traditional and colorful hat.  To a lesser extent boys and young men will wear elaborate if not traditional clothing. 

Sometimes a person has to generalize in order to describe or to approach any semblance of effective communication.  The mere fact that it is a generalization means that the description is not 100% accurate for all cases and circumstances.  As is the case for most things in life there are exceptions.  In order to describe Pov Pob I will be generalizing.

A Girl Sings As She Prepares to Catch A Ball

In general girls and boys form two lines facing each other.  A small soft cloth ball, or a tennis ball, or sometimes an orange is lobbed back and forth between the lines.  Girls can throw to girls but boys are not allowed to toss to another boy.  In addition you are not allowed to lob the ball to a member of your own clan.  The person on the receiving end of the toss catches the ball with one hand.  If you are "interested" in someone you toss the ball to them.  If a boy makes a good throw to a girl and she doesn't try to catch it, she is letting him know not too subtly that she is not interested him.

If you make a good lob to someone and they drop the ball or miss catching the ball, the person is supposed to take a piece of their costume, a piece of silver, or  a bell from their costume to the person across from them.  To get the ornament or trinket back, the person has to sing to the person opposite them.  The singing and ball tossing are ice breakers for the people.   For those who are playing the game to find a match, 15 years and older, if they make a love connection they and the person who is also interested in them will leave the game.  The pair go off to get to know each other better.  If they determine that they are right for each other they will publicly announce their intentions three days later and will be married about three weeks later when the moon is right - a new moon.

A Private and Personal Pov Pob - Perhaps a Prelude to Much More



A Spinning Top Is Hurled Down Field

During this trip to the Hmong people in Laos, Duang and I watched another Hmong game called "Tujlub" (Spinning Tops) which is played by men and boys.  We watched a spinning top match on our first day in the field that served as a parking lot at one of the two festival sites that we visited throughout our stay in Luang Prabang.

The tops are carved out of very dense hardwood.  They reminded me a great deal of  turnips that were cooked for Thanksgiving dinners back in Connecticut.  A heavy cotton string about 3 or 4 meters (9 to 12 feet) long is wrapped very tightly around the wood top.  The other end of the heavy string is attached to a stick about 4 to 5 cm in diameter (1-1/2 in. to 2 in.) and 60 to 90 cm (2 - 3 feet) long.  The top is held in one hand the stick in the other hand.  The top is thrown down field while at the same time the stick is jerked downwards in a whip like or slashing motion.

The rules for playing Tujlub differ from location to location.  For the match that we watch, this appeared to be how the game was played.  There were two teams of three players each.  The first team went down the hardened dirt pitch about 10 meters (30 feet) and set their tops spinning in a somewhat tight grouping in a slightly recessed area which reminded me of a greatly worn horseshoe pit.  Once the tops were set about spinning the other team members one by one heaved their tops at the spinning stationary tops to strike them; driving them out of the area and stopping their spinning.  Apparently points were awarded for every top that was stopped by the second team.

One of the Target Tops Is Set to Spinning While One Is Already Spinning

The process was repeated again about 20 meters from the starting line and once again about 30 meters from the starting line.  After completing the three distances, the teams swapped positions with the second team setting up their tops spinning at the predetermined distances and the first team attempting to hit the spinning tops by hurling their tops down field.


A Spinning Top About To Escape From Its Line

It was amazing how often a spinning top was hit by a hurled top.  The sound of the colliding wood tops was like the sharp crack of a well hit baseball with a hickory bat.  From my position down field I had a clear and impressive view of how fast and powerful the tops were hurled towards their targets.  I was also impressed and extremely grateful as to how accurate the players were.


A Player Puts All That He Has Into His Hurl

At the other end of the festival site, men - older and appearing to be of a higher social status, were playing petanque.  Petanque is similar to bocce.  It is a French game whose current form was developed in 1907.  It is played with metal balls on a hard compacted dirt or gravel rectangular area.

A Petanque Player In Vientiane, LPDR

A small wood ball is thrown and points are earned by throwing or rolling the larger metal balls closer to it than the other team's attempts similar to bocce and not that much different than horse shoes.  Perhaps the saying of "Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades" should be modified to "Close only counts in horseshoes, bocce, petanque and hand grenades as well as nuclear weapons".

Part of the game strategy in addition to getting your balls closet to the wood ball called "cochonnet" is also to knock your opponent's ball away from the wood ball so that yours are closer or his are eliminated from the pitch.


Petanque Players Figuring Out Who Is Closest

The penchant for playing petanque is a legacy of French colonialism here in Southeast Asia.  There is a factory that produces petanque balls (boule) in Vientiane, Laos.  Although the French never colonized Thailand, petanque is played here in Isaan.  I suspect the interaction of Thailand's Lao Loum population with their cousins across the Mekong River in Lao People's democratic Republic goes a long ways towards explaining its popularity here.  I have played some with my brother-in-law and the Tahsang Village officials.  It is a nice game to play when the weather is hot and the beer is ice cold.

Playing Petanque Along the Bank of the Mekong River In Laos

It was interesting to see how people in a different culture entertain and amuse themselves.  A common denominator for all three of the games was the fact that people were making do with what was readily and perhaps more importantly what was cheaply available to them.  Their games did not involve a great deal of investment of time, equipment, space, or energy.  The Hmong games were also very social events with participants socializing as much as they were competing.