Back to the Red Lotus Sea

 

 

Red Lotus - Nymphaea Lotus

This year on 23 February, we drove out to Thale Bua Daeng, "The Red Lotus Sea, to view the blooming water lilies.  As it turned out, we were at the very tail end of the blooming season of the flowers.  http://hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2014/02/sea-of-red-lotuses.html

The season is recognized as December to February.  We had enjoyed our visit in February and decided that we would return some other time when the flowers were in greater numbers and greater bloom.

This Sunday, we decided to return to Thale Bua Daeng to tour the blooming water lilies - this time at the start of the season.  Our 5 year old grandson, Peelawat, had spent the weekend with us and we needed to get him back to his village for school on Monday.  Stopping by Thale Bua Daeng is a nice side trip on our way out to Tahsang Village.

We arrived at Thale Bua Daeng around 7:00 AM.  I had failed to check on Sunrise time in order to determine our departure time.  Arriving at 7:00 AM in early December is not the same as arriving at 7:00 AM in late February ... echoes of Duang's  admonition "Thailand not same America"?  We enjoyed a spectacular sunrise as we DROVE to Thale Bua Daeng.  By the time that we arrived at the boat rental location, the brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows of sunrise had turned to warm white.  Memo to self:  Check sunrise time before setting departure time if you want sunrise photos at a specific location.

Tour Boats On the Red Lotus Sea

We rented a boat for the three of us - 300 Baht - roughly $10 USD.  The tour lasted approximately 45 minutes and the driver stopped where we asked him to in order for me to take some photographs.  The first boats leave at 6:00 AM so it is possible to get sunrise photos from on the water.

The north end of Nong Hon Kumphawapi, the geographical name for the Red Lotus Sea location, was filled with brilliant pink lily flowers, the mass of color penetrated by clear channels of open water that the boats traverse.  Small birds darted and flitted about the surface of the water and blooms.  The best time to view the blooms is from 6:00 AM to around 11:00 AM when the flowers close up due to the light and heat.

After about 45 minutes, we were back at the boat dock.  This trip was shorter and less expensive than our tour back at the end of February.  This tour also was to the left of the docking area whereas the first tour was off to the right.  I was curious about the possibility of chartering a boat for a longer period of time.  We went up to the area where you bought tickets for the tour.  Duang spoke for me and determined that:  1. You could not charter a boat for a longer tour on Saturdays or Sundays because of the number of tourists.  2.  You can charter a boat for the day on other days of the week for 1,000 Baht ($30 USD)  I am not sure what is meant by a "day" since by 11:00 AM the flowers have closed up.  Looking back, we had paid 500 Baht for 2-1/2 hour tour so it seems there is some latitude for negotiation when we return in roughly a month.

As we set off to complete our drive out to Tahsang Village, we passed many tourist vans and full sized buses headed to Thale Bua Daeng.

In January there will a festival to celebrate the blooming of the flowers.

I May Be Old ...

On Friday, November 7th, we headed out to Tonle Sap Lake for our homestay portion of our visit to Cambodia.

The first segment out to the lake involved traveling out on Cambodian National Highway No. 6 from Siem Reap out to a section of the lake where we would continue on by boat.  When we travel, we typically have a plan as well as a schedule to guide our travels.  However we do not plan and schedule so tightly that we are forced to become oblivious to all the opportunities for photography and special experiences along the route.  Ironically it takes discipline to "stop and smell the roses" when traveling.  It is often too easy to develop tunnel vision and to become excessively focused on either a timetable or destination.  Often it is those serendipitous encounters along the route that define a vacation and provide the memories for a lifetime.

We passed through many small towns on our way to Southeast Asia's largest freshwater lake.  In one town we stopped at a local morning market that was situated on the side of the highway.  It was a great place to photograph local life and culture.

Since this was the fourth day with our wonderful photography guide, he had a great understanding of the types and subjects of the photographs that I enjoy taking.  He knew that I wanted to take a photograph of an ox cart ... well not really an ox cart but the Cambodian version which is pulled by skinny cattle.

At one point, our guide called out to me that an ox cart was headed up the main highway moving towards us.  I saw the cart about two hundred meters (200 yards) moving towards us.  I crouched down alongside of the road to obtain a better perspective for photography.  As I raised my head after squatting and getting comfortable for the anticipated shots, the cart had disappeared!  Simultaneously I heard my guide calling out that the cart had turned.

After ensuring that I was securely holding on to my camera, I took off in pursuit of the ox cart.  Running past some vegetable vendors along with their customers, past a few food carts with standing customers, past a couple food booths with seated diners, I accelerated along Highway 6 creating looks of confusion, concern and finally amusement as I passed.

I came upon the narrow dirt road where the ox cart laden with straw was lumbering along.  Just like that tiny steam engine in the children's story where he kept repeating "I think I can, I think I can", my mind started racing as I lumbered down the dirt road "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can catch up and pass these cattle to get my shots"

Despite having at least a 200 meter head start on me, I did catch up and pass the ox cart - much to the surprise of the cattle and confusion of the cart's driver.

Ox Cart On Side Road In Cambodia

A little past the cart, I squatted down on the side of the road for the perspective that I wanted.  I snapped a few shots and then a strange event occurred.  Understanding that I wanted to take photographs, the cart driver, completely on his own initiative, stopped the cart!

This was an act of kindness by a complete stranger that makes travelling here in Southeast Asia so interesting, satisfying and memorable.

After a few more shots and thanking him, the driver and I went our separate ways.

I returned to the market much slower and much more composed than when I had left - much to the relief of our guide and my wife along with the amusement of many market goers.  I stopped and showed some of the people the photographs on the camera's LCD that I had gotten.  We all enjoyed a laugh.

I am 65 years old now so ... I may be old.  I am definitely over-weight ... but I still can out run an ox-cart!

Another Harvest Here In Isaan

Isaan Gold, Sticky Rice, Flows Into A Sack

During our recent trip to neighboring Cambodia, we encountered many fields with rice stalks bowing their heads under the bright sun.  The fields were bright green but quickly turning golden as the rice matured and dried out as the time approached for harvesting.

We missed the start of the rice harvest in Cambodia by about one week.  However during our visit from November 3rd to November 9th, we did have the opportunity to witness portions of the soybean harvest.

Upon our return to our home in Udonthani, sometimes also spelled "Udon Thani", we found ourselves in the midst of the rice harvest.  On Wednesday November 12 we drove out to Tahsang Village for family business.  One of Duang's many relatives had died earlier in the morning.  The man played an important roll in the family funeral rituals and in many of the rituals at the local Wat.  He died from the complications of diabetes at the age of 66.  I am surprised at the number of people in Isaan suffering from diabetes.  The people do not eat anywhere near either an American or European diet so the incidence can not be explained by diet unless somehow rice is a factor.  It may be heredity or perhaps some type of bacteria or virus.  It was not until fairly recently that science discovered that stomach ulcers were caused by a bacteria rather spicy food, or a nervous personality.

 

We sat in the main room of the man's home, the floor covered with woven mats (sahts) with the refrigerated coffin set up against a far wall of the room.  Arrangements were in the process of being made for the following four days of the funeral ritual.  A pavilion had been erected and some plastic chairs along with tables had been delivered to the home.  Members of the family had gone into the local town, Kumphawapi, to arrange for cookware, vegetables, meats, fish, bottled water, soft drinks, beer, whiskey, plates, glasses, etc. to be used over the next few days.

 

We paid our respects and Duang settled into gambling with her relatives in the room containing the coffin.  Gambling is not allowed in Thailand except for the National Lottery.  In the past, exceptions were made for the three days of a funeral ritual - somehow it is considered good luck to gamble during the funeral ritual.. Typically the gambling was conducted outside of the home.  At other times, "arrangements" could be made regarding gambling.  Since the recent coupe, there has been a crackdown on many vices, including gambling.  However old habits can be hard to break especially involving religion and if they are not openly flaunted.  It seems that small gatherings for games of "High-Low" - a sort of roulette type betting using the outcome of three dice are tolerated if for a funeral and out of sight.

 

After a while I informed my wife that I was going to take-off with my camera and wander about the countryside in search of rice harvesting activities.

 

I headed out along narrow country roads, paved as well as unpaved, towards Tambon Nongwa.  As I drove I saw some signs of rice harvesting - blue tarps covered with golden rice kernels laid out in yards, parking lots, Wat grounds and in some places alongside of the road.  The rice is laid on the tarps to dry out prior to being bagged and stored.  The stored grain is either saved for seed for next year's crop to be planted next June, brought to a miller to have the husk removed for feeding the family, or a small amount of the harvest is cooked with husk on make a sort of "pop-rice" used in specialty local dishes.

 



Occasionally I came upon small groups of people cutting rice in fields at a fairly far distance from the road, people gathering up stalks of rice cut a couple days earlier and bundling them into sheaves, or people gathering up rice sheaves throughout a field and relocating sheaves to a central location where a threshing machine would process the rice - separating the rice kernels from the stalk, dumping the kernels into 50 Kg sacks and ejecting the straw into a large mound.

I did not see anything that I considered particularly motivating, inspiring or even interesting.  I continued along the road to a point where I determined that I should turn around.  I turned around and after a short while of retracing my route, I found myself behind one of the threshing trucks.  I followed slowly behind him for a while.  I knew that he was going out to some location where there would be plenty of opportunity to photograph rice harvesting activities.

After a while, the thresher truck pulled over to the side of the road.  The driver motioned for me to pass him.  I pulled up beside the truck, rolled down my window and told and pantomimed to the driver that I was following him to take photographs.  He smiled and laughed.

The threshing truck pulled forward ahead of me and took an immediate left down a narrow path that lead into the rice paddies.  I followed him and parked my truck alongside of the paved road.  After grabbing my camera bag and locking up the truck, I quickly caught up with the threshing truck - he had literally and figuratively ran into a problem.

The rice paddies of Isaan are dotted with various structures.  The structures are typically raced platforms with a thatched roof.  This is where the farmers and their hired hands eat their meals and take their breaks.  In other fields the structures are larger and serve as homes to a family as they work the fields during the busy seasons of planting and harvesting.  For some fields there are small storage sheds.

The threshing truck was unable to pass under the roof of one of these storage sheds.  How did he know that he could not pass under the corrugated metal roof of the shed?  He determined it the old fashioned way - he ran into it!  The best solution was determined to be for him to back up and drive around it across the adjacent harvested field.  This involved getting stuck once and frantic efforts to level the parched field - filling ruts and knocking down mounds. In short order, the shed was bypassed and the threshing truck set up next to the large mounds of rice sheaves placed on large fine meshed plastic nets.  The threshing truck parked and workers placed more netting in vertical orientation to contain rice kernel dislodged in the threshing process and to keep out the straw that flies about during the threshing operation.

Threshing Rice In Tambon Nongwa

Several people comprised the crew involved in threshing the rice.  One man sat on a seat cantilevered off the side of the threshing machine.

Several workers were involved in feeding rice sheaves into the rice thresher - grabbing sheaves from the mound and tossing them up onto a shelve in front of the operator on the side of the machine. They were also responsible for offloading a nearby farm wagon that was filled with more sheaves of rice.

One man was off to the side of the main area of activity - he was in the area where filled bags of rice kernels were gathered.  His responsibility was to secure the tops of the filled bags with thin flexible strips of bamboo.



Tying Off The Filled Bags Using Bamboo Strips

Two people manned the tail end of the threshing machine.  They were responsible for filling recycled fertilizer or sugar bags with the golden stream of rice kernels that were ejected out the end of the machine's screw auger.

Bags Being Filled With Golden Rice

Two workers were occupied in hauling the filled bags of rice from the threshing machine to the area where they were being stored.

When they needed to refresh themselves, crew members took a quick break at the communal water bucket.  There were not many water breaks during my time with the crew.  The workers worked quickly and diligently.  The owner of the rice was also part of the crew ... supervising as well as handling the rake to control the mound of sheaves and pile up the loose grains of rice that fell naturally from the heads of the stalks through being handled to feed the threshing machine.  The fine blue nets prevented the loose kernels from being lost.

Feeding the Threshing Machine Sheaves of Rice

Rice Bag Bursting  - A Price For Using Recycled Bags

As the work at this location was winding up, I photographed the farmer and young children who had just arrived from school.  I then headed back to Tahsang Village where Duang was waiting for me.  I headed back but did not drive directly back to the village.  I stopped at another field where a family was cutting rice on their farm.

Isaan Family Harvesting Their Rice Crop

I am very fortunate to be able to photograph people with so little difficulty here in Southeast Asia.  Thailand is known as the "Land of Smiles".  I have found many smiles here as well as in Lao, and Cambodia.  The people are genuinely friendly and happy to be photographed.

Sharing their life with others is a nice way for me to occupy myself and fill my retirement days.

Dancing Nymphs - The Apsaras

Apsara of Angkor Wat

Earlier this month, we returned to Cambodia, more specifically, Siem Reap after seven years.

Seven years ago, Duang and I had visited Siem Reap and Tonle Sap for four days.  In the ensuing years I acquired a new more sophisticated camera and acquired some more advanced photographic skills.

This year we decided to spend 6 days in the Angkor Wat area to revist Angkor Wat and associated Khmer ruins as well as to attempt to document the fisheries of  Southeast Asia's largest freshwater lake - Tonle Sap.

We arrived in Siem Reap late morning, Monday 3 November.  After checking into our hotel, we headed out to Angkor Wat early afternoon to tour the ruins and be there to photograph the sunset on the temple.  Waiting for sunset is not that great of a wait ... the sun sets around 5:30 PM, 5:35 PM exactly on November 3.

Many things have changed in the seven years since our last visit.  Some changes are not so good and some changes are for the better but greater details of the changes will be addressed in future blogs.  One change, for the better, is the ruins, specifically the towers, are no longer obnoxiously covered in scaffolding and obtrusive tarps.  Some parts of the ruins are under renovation but the tarps are much less visible - a forest green that almost seems to blend into the stones.

Another change, not so good, is the great increase in the number of tourists - specifically bus tours of mainly three groups - Chinese, South Koreans, and Russians.  The ruins are much more crowded than before ... unless you have hired a professional photography guide who knows when and where to go to avoid the tourist hordes.

We had hired a guide service prior to arriving in Cambodia - money very well spent.  We were never overwhelmed by crowds and were shown hidden gems off of the organized tour track.

For many years I was conscious of the "Ugly American" stereotype - you know - the American tourist - ill mannered, loud mouthed, and obnoxious.  Well things have changed - we are no longer the scourges of tourism.  Americans are no higher than 4th on the list, at least in Cambodia - having been surpassed by the Chinese, followed by the Russians and then the South Koreans.  It was nice to no longer be number 1 in that regard.

No matter, we managed through the skill, knowledge, and experience of our guide to minimize our exposure to the tour groups.

Leading up to the sunset on Angkor Wat, we toured the side galleries of the ruins and the upper terraces of the temple.



Devatas of Angkor Wat

Angkor Wat has many stone carvings - many large and grand battle scenes and mythological scenes connected to either Hinduism and Buddhism.  However for this trip, I was more focused on the carvings of Apsaras.

Apsaras are celestial maidens - nymphs.  They are beautiful, graceful, young females - who dance to entertain, and sometimes seduce the gods as well as mortal men.  They are somewhat like angels in the Hindu religion.  Apsaras, besides being known for their dance are also known to rule over luck in gambling and gaming.  Apsaras also are involved in fertility rites.

Through the influences of trade and Hinduism from India as well as the spread of the Khmer Empire from 800 AD to 1400 AD, the concept and mythology of apsaras is part of Indian, Thai, Lao, Burmese, Cambodian, Indonesian, and Vietnamese culture today.

During the reign of Khmer King Jayavarman VII in the 12th century, there were an estimated 3,000 apsara dancers in his court.

In the ruins of Angkor Wat there are many depictions of apsaras dancing or waiting to dance.  Other females who typically are larger and appear to be guarding the temple are known as devatas.

Apsara Dancing - Wall Panel at Angkor Wat

Apsara Sandstone Carving

Devatas Decorate a Column of Angkor Wat

Devatas

Apsara Dance in Cambodia was taught almost exclusively in the Royal Court.  During the reign of terror by the Khmer Rouge (i.e. "The Killing Fields") and their leader Pol Pot, the art of Apsara dance was just about eliminated.  After the fall of the Khmer Rouge, the King of Cambodia's daughter, who had been a principal dancer with the royal dance troupe before the reign of the Khmer Rouge, worked to reestablish the art form.

Sixteen years after removal of Pol Pot regime, the Apsara dance returned to public performances in Cambodia.

Apsara Dance has 1,500 intricate gestures and positions for performing the dance with most of them having significant symbolism.  Dancers at the Royal University of Fine Arts commence their training around seven years old. After 9 to 12 years of training they are ready to perform.

People can experience Apsara Dance at many restaurants in Siem Reap and also at the Cambodian Cultural Center.  I am certain that the skill level and authenticity of the restaurants is far less than the performances by the Royal University of Fine Arts.  However, the cultural shows give a good introduction to the art form.

We attended a restaurant show during our last visit in 2007 and returned to the same restaurant, albeit at a different location, during this month's trip.

We thoroughly enjoyed our visit once again to Cambodia.  Attending the performance of the Apsara Dance was one of many highlights.

Squeal Like A Stuck Pig, Bleed Like A Stuck Pig

"Squeal Like A Stuck Pig, Bleed Like A Stuck Pig" - This blog has nothing to do with one of the most cinematic memorable scenes from the 1972 film "Deliverance"



This blog has to do with the question that parents may be asked along with the classic queries of "Why is the sky blue?" and "Where do babies come from?".  In this case the question is "Where do pork chops come from?"

WARNING:  The following narrative and photographs contain elements that some people may find disturbing

Living in Northeast Thailand, I am often witness to many unique cultural events, celebrations, and activities that are far different than my experiences of growing up and being educated back in New England.  I always strive to share these different the unique culture here in Isaan accurately and hopefully non-judgmentally.

Earlier this month, my wife and I drove out to Ban Maet to participate in the preparations for the celebration of Ok Phansa, the end of Vassa (Buddhist Rains Retreat), the following day. The start of the day was the typical offering of food to the Monks at the forest Wat of Luang Por Pohm Likit.  Later I was to photograph the local men making a basaht for the making of offerings to the spirits the next day.

As often happens here, which makes life so interesting and rewarding, things were not exactly as originally described or scheduled.  Shortly after completion of the morning merit making at the Wat, Luang Por Pohm Likit received a phone call. One of the local men wanted Luang Por Pohm Likit to let me know that they were going to be butchering a pig.  He thought  that I might be interested in photographing the process.  Duang translated to me and I was quickly off to the nearby location which was also where men were going to construct the basaht.

I arrived at the local policeman's small country farm just in time for the start of the big butchering process.

In addition to growing rice, papaya, coconuts, and various vegetables as well as herbs for personal use, the policeman also raised pigs.  Off in the corner of his property, he has a cinder block enclosure with corrugated metal roof where he raises approximately 30 pigs.  Inside the enclosure are cinder block pens where the pigs are segregated for various purposes.

I followed two of the men across the rice paddy to the pig pens.  I was surprised to find a clean facility.  There were several hose stations for rinsing the facility with water.  The effluent flowed by gravity from the facility down to the lower land on three sides of the compound.  Although the facility was clean and the pigs were clean, there was no doubt that I was in a pig pen.  On our trips to Tahsang Village down Highway 2, we pass by a commercial pig farm.  Just about every trip past the facility either Duang or I will say to the other "Why, why you not shower today?"  There is no mistaking the smell of a pig farm for anything other than what it is.

Ask not for whom the rope is for, it is for thee

There was one pig all by himself in one of the pens.  When we arrived at the compound, all the pigs were curious about our presence.  Many of the pigs rose up on their hind legs to peer over the low block walls to have a better look at us and more likely what we were up too.  The pigs were quite animated and vocal.

I stayed outside of the pens, observing and photographing the process.  One of the men slowly and cautiously entered the pen with the single pig.  His caution was more out of not wanting to disturb the pig than for concern for his safety. He carried two ropes.  One rope had a running bowline to form a noose.  The man rotated the grain feeder to distribute some food to occupy the pig.  After a few attempts, he managed to secure the noose around the pig's neck.  The pig was definitely not happy.  The pig squealed very loudly and desperately tried to break free from the control of the noose.

Getting hog tied

With the help of two other men, the pig was cornered and wrestled to the ground.  With considerable effort the pig was hog tied thereby immobilizing it. All the other pigs realized that something was going on and became highly agitated.  The air was filled with loud squeals and grunts.  Even more pigs rose up to view over the top of the separation walls between the pens.  Panic was rampant in the pens.

Pig Getting A Shower to Cool Off

The trussed up pig was lifted and placed on a two wheeled cart to be transported to the killing site.  The pig was highly agitated from its ordeal.  One of the men poured a few pans of water over the pig to calm and cool it down.  This is necessary to protect the quality of the meat. The men tried to keep the pig calm and cool - difficult to achieve when the pig is tied up, man handled and unable to move.

Pig Being Transported to Butchering Site

The pig was carted to a spot alongside the narrow country road just to the side of the gate to the farm.  I walked over to where the pig was laying on its side.  The pig was conscious.  The men positioned themselves around the pig.  One man placed a metal bowl near the exposed throat area of the pig.  One man stepped on the bound front legs and another man pulled the pigs head back to better expose the pig's throat.  Having seen the recent beheading of a man by ISIS on the Internet, I fully expected that a man would draw a knife across the throat of the pig to quickly kill it. I was wrong - very wrong.  A man took a rather small knife and stuck it into the neck of the pig.  He thrust the knife deeper and deeper into the neck with a twisting motion looking to sever the pig's jugular vein.

Sticking the pig

Blood flowed from the wound into the metal bowl.  The phrase "squeal like a stuck pig" immediately and unforgettably took on an entirely new meaning and significance for me. Once the jugular was severed, the blood squirted with each beat of the heart into the bowl.

Pig Bleeding Itself Out

The pig slowly died - bleeding to death as each heart beat pumped more blood into the metal bowls placed at the wound in its neck.  The squealing continued but slowly declined in volume and pitch, becoming overwhelmed by the sounds of labored breathing.

As death approached, one of the men held the pig's mouth shut while another man pumped the pig's side with his foot to help force more blood out of the dying animal.

It had taken 7 minutes for the pig to die.  I thought that this was not the proper or even best way to dispatch an animal.  However in researching to write this blog (Mother Earth News) I learned that sticking a pig without first shooting or stunning it is considered to be the most humane method of killing.

The dead pig was then transported to an area inside of the property next to a very large vat of scalding water over a wood fire. The carcass was placed on the ground near a section of recycled corrugated metal roofing that had been washed down with hot water and rinsed with cold water.

Not far from the butchering section, a polyethylene tarp was placed on the ground and freshly cut banana leaves were placed on the tarp along with a wood cutting block and a small spring scale often found in local food booths.

Scalding the pig

 

Pans of scalding hot water were poured over the carcass to facilitate the removal of hair.  After the scalding water was poured over a section, two men used knives to scrape the hair and epidermis off of the carcass.  The combination of hair and skin easily came off the carcass.  Once the entire pig had been scraped and cleaned, it was placed the recycled roof panel and washed completely and carefully.

Scraping the hide to remove hair and skin

Washing off the scraped pig

 

The ears were the first item cut and removed from the pig.  The ears were promptly placed in the big vat of scalding water were many other various parts of the pig were destined to be placed. After a while the ears were removed from the water, placed on bamboo skewers and positioned to grill along side of the wood fire.  After grilling, the ears were removed, cut up into bite sized pieces to be enjoyed by all people involved in the process.

 

The butchering of the pig did not proceed as I expected it to.  I thought that the carcass would be rigged from an overhanging tree limb, hoisted head down, and the first cut would carefully made from the anus to the chest to allow the abdominal bag, containing the internal organs, to spill out and be removed.  Thailand not like America - once again.  Here in Isaan the pig was placed on its legs in a prone position.  A strip of hide and underlying fat were cut from each side of the spine exposing the loins.  The fat was removed from the strips of hide at the near by banana leaf station.  The fat was then cut into six sections.  The hide was taken away for processing.  The loins were removed and taken to the cutting block on the banana leaf covered tarp where they were weighed and cut into six equal weight portions.

 

 

Work continued step by step to remove the outer cuts of meat from the pig.  Most of the cuttings were taken to the banana leaf area for weighing, trimming, and placing in the six piles.  Some cuttings were immediately placed in the vat of scalding water.

 

 

The last major portion of the pig to be removed from the carcass was the entrails.  The gall bladder was removed and hung from a branch of a nearby shrub - I later learned that the man would make "medicine - good for old people" out of it.  The intestines were hauled a short distance away to the banks of a ditch where two men occupied cleaning them out for either cooking as is or for use as sausage casings.  Many of the other offal were placed in the scalding water to join the head and brains.  Very little if any at all of the pig was wasted although I do not specifically know what was the disposition of the penis, testicles or tail.  All other parts were identified and accounted for. I assume the missing parts ended up in the "stew pot".

 

Processing pig intestines

The processing of the pig was completed at the banana leaf tarp station.  Each of the various cuts and organs was weighed an cut to create 6 equal weight piles on the tarp.

 

 

The piles were then placed in individual plastic bags.  Duang and I decided to buy one of the bags - roughly 10 kilograms of meat for 500 Baht (22 pounds for $16.66 USD).  We kept a couple of the cuts and gave the remainder to Duang's mother out in Tahsang Village.  That night I sat down for dinner to enjoy my fresh, extremely fresh, pork chops knowing fully well, perhaps too well, where my pork chops had come from.

 

I am often impressed at the ability of the local peoples to make do with their limited resources be it weaving their own fishing nets, fish traps, cultivating rice, weaving their cloth, and so many other activities that demonstrate their independence as well as self reliance.  Raising pigs for sale and consumption is another one of those activities.  It was a experience that I had not had before except for the butchering of a rabbit in Rhode Island almost 40 years ago.

 

Like so many of other people from my old world, I was not knowledgeable, experienced or even cognizant of the activities that created so much of what I took for granted in my life.  Here in Isaan, in Allen's World, so much more is up close and personal.

 

It is here in Isaan, that I saw the answer to the question of "Where do pork chops come from?"

 

The phrases of "Squeal like a stuck pig" and "Bleed like a stuck pig" also have a deeper and greater significance to me than before.