Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

The Mango Fair

Yesterday was the start of the annual Mango Fair in Non Wai about 20 miles from our home. We drove out to Amphoe Nong Wau Sor, where Non Wai, is located, in the early afternoon not quite knowing what to expect at the fair.


We arrived at the fair around 3:00 P.M. and found many of the booths still being set up. The fair was fairly typical for these types of events throughout Isaan. There were two large stages set up at opposite ends of the fair where elaborate stage shows would be performed. The shows typically start around 8 or 9 P.M. and conclude much later in the night with many shows going on into the early hours of the morning. I learned today that one of the shows for this fair ended at 5 A.M. this morning. There was a small area where children could jump on trampolines, slide down a large inflated multi layered structure, ride on a couple kiddie rides or ride on tiny motorcycles. There were also the ubiquitous "Pop The Balloons With Darts" booths as well as a couple booths where you could fire plastic ball from a rifle to knock down objects to win a prize. One booth was a race track where small radio controlled cars navigated through a series of painted obstacles. Along with the many booths selling local foods and soft drinks, there were some booths selling articles such as clothing and hats. A couple of beer gardens were set up where people could eat and sing karaoke along with their drinking. Best of all, for me, there was an area where local farmers were selling mangoes.

The best mangoes, large, unblemished, and uniform in color were for sale from 30 to 35 baht a kilogram ($0.48 USD a pound). In addition to the sweet mango there were also plenty of the hard green mangoes that are used in cooking as well as for eating either with a chili dip sauce, dry chili along with salt, or just as they are. We ended up with three plastic bags filled with delicious mangoes - $1 USD worth.

During our wanderings about the fair we came upon a small booth where some been were drinking beer. Since, as is often the case, I was one of very few foreigners at these events I tend to attract attention. They invited us over to their booth to have a drink with them. I drank a glass of beer and told them that I could not drink much because I had to drive the truck back to our home. They then showed me and I realized that THEY WERE THE POLICE!

They had a karaoke system set up and were singing. They had me sing some songs in English. After awhile and some more beer, we were singing songs together in Thai or my feeble but earnest imitation of Thai. We were having such a good time that some of the performers from the nearby stage area came over to investigate. They had been putting on their make-up and costumes in preparation for the start of their show.




These were not the typical female singers or Go-Go girls that I photograph backstage. These were female impersonators. They were not Kathoeys (Lady Boys) who strive and for the most part succeed in transforming themselves into appearing as females. These performers were more "campy" with their outlandish makeup and over the top movements. They made no effort to disguise their low voices or to even ensure that they had recently shaved their face. I took several photographs and they were faithful to their representations as performers. They were very photogenic. I viewed the experience as a good opportunity to work with a different type of people under different, if not challenging, conditions to create interesting photographs.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Life Along the Water - It Is All About Water




It is already March here in Thailand. Today is a holiday - the start of Buddhist Lent. It is also the start of the four day Mango Fair in nearby Non Wai in Amphoe Nong Wau Sor. We will go to the fair later this afternoon.

February went by so quickly. It doesn't seem all that long ago that we were returning home from our trip to Luang Namtha. Perhaps because the trip was so enjoyable that our memories and thoughts over the past month numbed our consciousness to the passage of time.

Throughout our trip, I was impressed with the importance that water played in the day to day life of the minority people of the Luang Namtha region. For many of us, water is taken for granted. It is readily available and at our disposal by merely turning a faucet open in our kitchen, in any number of our bathroom sinks, flush one of our toilets, our bath tub or tubs, our shower or showers, and the valves outside our home for watering the lawn and plants in our yards. Many of our refrigerators automatically create ice from the water that is hooked up to the appliance. We have no reservations about pouring a glass and drinking straight from the tap. The water is always there. The water is always potable.

That is the way that it is in our world. We may have concern regarding the availability of oil and its associated products. We are definitely concerned about the price of oil and its associated products. Seldom and perhaps never, are we concerned about the availability or cost of water. But this is not the way it is in most of the world.


We can live without oil albeit not as comfortably as we do now but all people, all creatures as well as plants, must have water. Unfortunately, for many people in the world access to water is not often reliable, convenient or even potable. To address some of the water issues, many people have settled alongside sources of water.


Every village and settlement that we came upon in the Luang Namtha region was along the banks of a river, stream, or spring. These sources of water were heavily utilized. In the late afternoon, we could see the villagers bathing in the flowing water. Typically in the morning, clothes were washed in the water although some people multi-tasked by washing clothes as part of their bathing ritual. No matter the time of the day for bathing, buckets of water were gathered and carried back home. At the Boat Landing Guest House and Restaurant, small pumps take water directly out of the adjacent Nam Tha River and lift the water to elevated storage tanks to be used as required. In some of the settlements the source of household water was nothing more than a slow flowing drainage ditch between the road and the house. The same water used for washing clothes, and bathing is often is also used as a food source and for drinking water. The same water is often used by children as a playground. The same water is also used by the villager's livestock. What water is readily available is well utilized.


There was photographic opportunity that most likely will forever be fixed in my mind. Outside of Xieng Kok on the road back to Muang Sing, we came upon a mother standing in a shallow ditch in front of her home no more than 12 feet from the edge of the main road. She stood ankle deep in the water, having completed her bathing, wringing the water out of one side of her sarong that due to some semblance of modesty she was still wearing. Joining her in the ditch were three little boys and a little girl - all under three years old. Watching over the scene were three other little children. I often write about the lack of privacy here in Isaan but this scene often repeated during our Lao trip exceeds what is the situation in Isaan.
Once in Peru, my wife at the time remarked about the personal hygiene of the local people in Cusco, Peru. Shortly after she made that remark, I saw out of the train window, a small girl, perhaps 6 years old, struggling to carry two filled yellow Prestone Anti-Freeze containers of water from the small community water tap in the middle of a flat compacted bare earth area at the edge of the village. I pointed the scene out to my wife and remarked that the child was bringing water back to her home for cooking as well as bathing. I asked my wife how many baths would she take and further pointed out the water was cold. Again, for much of the world bathing is not as convenient nor as private as is our experience. Most people do not have the luxury of closing a door, turning a faucet or two, and enjoying an unlimited amount of hot water upon demand. Our Lao experience reminded us of our fortune - a fortune that we should not take for granted.



So today as I wind up reviewing and editing the photographs from our Luang Namtha journey, so many of them having water in them, I reminisce about the experience mostly of life along the river.

Life along the river, life along the stream, and sometimes life next to the ditch - I can almost hear once again the sounds of clothes being slapped against rocks, the soft ruffling of clothes being hand washed, the occasional plop of a fish as it reentered the water after catapulting upwards to snare a meal, the sharp staccato of rocks hitting upon each other as village women wade upstream overturning them in their search for food to bring back for the family meal, the sound of wet clothes being beat with a wooden club to clean them, the excitement as well as exuberance of young boys and girls exploring the banks together - each discovery evoking a conference as well an animated discussion with one child naturally evolving to be the group's leader, the sounds of community gossip in a six tonal language by village women as they congregate in mid-thigh high water to bathe, the soft crescendo of mono filament fishing nets being flung over the waters as the sun sets and a full moon rises ... Yes it is all about the water. - Life along the river in Laos.

We will hopefully never take our water for granted again.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Laos Day 7 - Corporate Generosity



After completing my walk with the Monks in the mist, I returned to the hotel. Rather than wake Duang from her sleep by entering our cottage, I stopped at the reception/dining area first to have my breakfast.

As I ate my breakfast, I was joined by Khun Thone. We talked about our stay and discussed Duang and I returning at some time in the next year. Duang and I had enjoyed all aspects of our trip and look forward to coming back at another time of the year to experience a different perspective. Mr Thone indicated that he wanted to take us to two different area that we had not visited to photograph some of the other minority peoples of the region.

After awhile, we were joined by Khun Kreiengkrai Nakapong from the Thaioil group that I had played volleyball with the previous night. He was the leader of several Thaioil employees that were traveling together through Laos.

My last project in Thailand, was at the same refinery in Sriracha where Mr. (Khun) Kriengkrai is a Shift Manager. Even today, three years after I left that project, Duang surprisingly and peculiarly in my opinion when she introduces me to Thai people proudly points out that I had worked at Thaioil. Just as surprisingly and peculiarly are the people's reaction. Invariably they are very impressed. I can not imagine a similar reaction in the USA if a person was to be introduced as having worked on one of the major oil company's projects. I would expect that polite people would ignore the comment and less polite people might comment as to the major oil company's performance in regards to "corporate responsibility", "environmental stewardship", "social responsibility", and so forth through the litany of today's politically correct issues. Admiration for being associated with such a major corporation would be a definite shock.

During our conversation we were joined by the Village Headman of Ban Khone. He had arrived for a special ceremony outside of the hotel. I found out that the Thaioil employees were not on a holiday but were actually on company business for their travels through Laos. Thaioil, through its "Thaioil Group Without Borders" campaign had donated school supplies, treats, and sporting equipment for Lao school children. The Thaioil employees were distributing the items to the preselected villages.



As our conversation was wrapping up, I noticed many small children arriving at the hotel grounds. Most of the children were walking organized by class groups but some arrived in small farm wagons that are so common in the area. The children were bundled up in heavy jackets to ward off the morning chill of 60F (16C). The children were well disciplined and had an air of expectation about them. Khun Kriegkrai invited me to join in the ceremony. This was an opportunity that I did not want to miss. This was an opportunity that I wanted to share. I raced back to our cottage , a short ways away to fetch my camera and to bring Duang to witness the event. After getting dressed, she joined the celebration and enjoyed watching the children's joy at receiving some much need items for the school life.


After the formalities were completed, candy as well as some other food treats were distributed to the children. The children then went up to the tables heavily laden tables to inspect the school supplies and sporting equipment. The children were just as excited at receiving notepads, pencils, ball point pens, crayons, and erasers as they were about the edible treats that they were busy eating.


The sporting equipment - volleyballs (one slightly used, futbol balls (soccer balls), kataw ball, badminton birdies, and badminton rackets were divided up and hauled away by representatives from each school.




Duang and I said goodbye to the Thaioil people and wished them a safe return back to Thailand when their work in Laos was completed. They still had school supplies and sporting equipment to distribute and kilometers and kilometers to travel as well as promises to keep before they could sleep - back in Thailand.

I now had an insight and appreciation for why people in Isaan as well as other parts of Thailand are impressed to learn of my former association, as minor as it had been, with Thaioil. I had seen a corporation help improve the lives of children. I had witnessed the generosity of a major corporation - a generosity that transcended national borders and political divides.

I left Laos proud to have worked with Thaioil and perhaps a little disappointed that I had not actually worked for them. I now understand that their widely held esteem and reputation has been well deserved and earned.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Another Isaan Funeral - "Same Same But Different"



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

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

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

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


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




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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Laos - Monks In The Mist


On Monday, 1 February, I got up at 5:30 A.M. It was our last day in Laos and I wanted to accompany the local Monks at Ban Khone on their Tak Bart (alms walk). I had accompanied the Monks in Luang Prabang last year but I did not take many photographs. The camera that I was using at that time needed a flash to be able without unacceptable levels of noise in the photograph. Although I had a flash with me at the time, I did not want to use it out of respect for the solemnity of the ritual. I have a new camera now that is much more versatile in low light conditions. As was typical for this trip, there were low light conditions in the morning not completely attributable to the early hour. Once again there was a heavy fog bordering upon being a light mist blanketing the Luang Namtha valley. Just as in life this was not an ideal condition that presented itself. Just as in life this non-ideal condition when accepted and embraced, the fog offered opportunities for success. The fog provided a soft diffused light, although diminished in intensity, which eliminated harsh shadows that natural light often causes. This morning there was no problem of the sun always being in the wrong place which I had experienced so often in the afternoon on this trip.


In Thailand the Monks set out on their Tak Bart when there is just enough light for them to see the lines on the palms of their hands. Typically they have completed their alms walk between 7:30 and 8:00 A.M. In Luang Prabang, the Monks had set forth on their Tak Bart starting about 6:00 A.M. I retraced my walk from my previous morning excursion to the Vat and arrived at 5:45 A.M. During my walk along the dirt side street and paved main road, I experienced once again the sights, sounds, and smells of village life. People walking, squatting around small fires, riding bicycles or motorbikes, and passing by on small farm trucks smiled and said good morning as I walked along. I could sense the spirit of community that binds the people in their daily activities.




Since it was a Monday, schools were open which increased the traffic on the main road. High school and college students joined the typical traffic headed for the new town. Students rode bicycles and motorbikes as well as walked amongst the women and men headed to markets or work. Many carried an umbrella to ward off the early morning fog and mist. Just as in Thailand the students wear uniforms. Unlike Thailand the female students wear a modest mid calf to ankle length "phaa nung" (sarong- literally "one cloth" in Lao) rather than the more provocative skirts worn in Thailand. The phaa nung for students is typically made of cotton. Adult women wear phaa nung made from either cotton or silk depending upon their status or event. Phaa nung for the students that I saw were solid dark blue with a band of lighter colored embroidary at the bottom. The girls wore the same light blue freshly pressed simple light blue cotton shirts. To ward off the early morning chill on their journey to school they wore sweaters - a concession to individuality and personal style.





















Back at the Vat not much was happening. The roosters were stirring and greeting the morning. Hens were flying from their roosts in the trees on to the ground where they were sometimes vigorously pursued by a rooster intent on starting off his day right. Occasionally I could here sounds emanating form some of the small huts where the Monks sleep. I began to suspect that I was too late for the start of their alms walk for the morning. I did not see any Monks out and about. I sat on the wide rail of the Vat to take the heavy load of my backpack of camera gear. Once in awhile I walked around the grounds to find nothing going on. I also popped my head out of the entrance to the Vat and looked both ways down the main road. Traffic was building with more and more bicycles, motorbikes, farm wagons and pedestrians but not a Monk to be seen. At 7:00 A.M., the loudspeaker mounted in a large tree inside the Vat compound alongside the main road came to life. The broadcast started with a instrumental rendition of a typical mahlam lao tune. Then an announcer gave a short introduction - "Good Morning Laos!"? Afterwards it seemed like the announcer read the morning news. I didn't pay much attention because in addition to not understanding Lao, the Vat was coming to life! Monks were coming out of their houses and headed for the bathrooms. Having brushed their teeth and taken care of whatever else they needed to do, the young Monks started milling around prior to heading out on their Tak Bart. I approached a small group of the Monks and through my limited Thai and pantomime jokingly let them know that I had been waiting since 5:45 A. M. and I was wondering where they were. We enjoyed a hearty laugh and at 7:07 headed out the gate on the Tak Bart. There were about 32 young Monks so they split up into smaller groups to go off into the villages. I went with a group of 5 Monks that turned right as they exited the Vat onto the main road headed away from the new town.



The Monks walked silently and barefooted in a single file along the paved road travelling in the same direction as the road traffic. Up ahead in the fog, we could see people kneeling barefooted alongside of the road patiently waiting for the Monks to approach. As the Monks approached the people, the people lifted up their offerings to a prayer like posture and position. The Monks, barely slowing their aggressive walking pace, opened their bowls for the people to place their offerings in each bowl. When necessary for the people to properly place the offerings into the bowl, the Monks would slow down or even stop for only the time necessary to complete the offering. The offerings were made and accepted in silence. The Monks did not acknowledge or thank the people for their generosity. It is not that the Monks are rude. It is the belief and attitude that the Monks are only the vehicle and instrument through which the people can make merit. They are not purveyors of the merit or blessing but are necessary participants in the ritual. In Thailand as part of the merit making ritual, the Monks recite a mantra or chant some blessing or prayer to the people as part of the merit making ritual. Here in Luang Namtha, the Monks after receiving the food offerings, walked past the donors a short ways, stopped, faced the donor's home or business, and chanted in unison what I believed to be a blessing. It was very tranquil as well as calming watching and listening as this ritual repeated itself during the day's tak bart. There was a connection with the ancient past, the chanting was in Pali, the original language of Theravada Buddhism, the Buddhism of Sri lanka, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Myanmar. The daily merit making ritual precedes Christianity by centuries.





By 7:45 A. M., the Monks had completed their Tak Bart and returned to their Vat to have their single meal of the day. I bid farewell to the Monks. Having worked up and appetite as well as a sweat, despite the crisp morning, keeping up with the rather brisk pace set by the Monks, I gladly trudged back to the hotel to shower and have breakfast.


It had been a very interesting and fulfilling morning for me but the day had not even begun for some people yet. Duang, exhausted from the long day before at the Lanten village, was still asleep.

There were still events to experience on this our last day of this trip in Laos - subjects and topics for the next blog.