Just a quick report on doings here.....The house over the river is almost finished and looks great. The family is camping nearby under a plastic tarpaulin and waiting with shining eyes to move in with their little bags and bundles. On Sunday the monks will come and we will have a baci to celebrate and to bless the house. Just in time as the brief dry spell is over and we are in the last rainy time before the weather gets cold again.
Meanwhile, I am hoping that anyone who can will find some spare cash to help me pay for all this. The whole thing was around $2500 USd. Soon I will have an arrangement for US contributors to give tax free, but who knows how long it will be until I can afford to do it in Oz. May have to wait until Dan is a practicing lawyer to get a good rate....
(I know I should have raised the money first, but the rains were falling and there was no time to waste.)
Got to run, as I have two classes tonight and then a HUGE party that we have organised for my new boss Gary. Tomorrow I teach all morning and then have a dinner party here and Sunday I teach, do the baci and next week I start my Amantaka staff classes in the mornings and continue with the Pasabandith ones at night. Whew!! And everybody says this is a serene lotus-eating existence!
Hugs o you all!!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
The Little Forest Family and other stories
Once upon a time there was a little man called Lit and his wife Pheng who lived in a forest glade with their five small children. They lived on forest foods, a veggie patch and fish from a pond. They were Khmu people, one of the Lao tribal groups who have traditionally been the bottom of the pecking order in Laos.
But then the children began to grow up and soon the Ngaai Baan, the village chief from the village nearby said that they could not live in the forest any more because the children had to go to school and the government did not want little tribal groups living in the forest with no services or medical care.
So the little family trudged into the big village, where they also had no services and no medical care and no money for school supplies, uniforms or fees. At some point Lit began to drink and rapidly became a helpless alcoholic, spending all his meagre earnings as a porter for people bringing cargo over the river to and from the village.
So Pheng worked harder than ever, walking back into the forest every day to gather food and tend her veggie patch and then crossing the river to the town to sell her produce in the streets. When she wasn't busy doing this she was hugging and loving and playing with her kids, still full of patience and love and smiles for her babies, despite her hard life.
The family lived on a little wooden platform covered with a grass roof, perched precariously on the edge of the Mekong River. As the rainy season grew more intense, the roof leaked copiously on the little family as they huddled in their hut, no bigger than the average vestibule.
The other villagers, not exactly flush with funds themselves, watched this and were worried. They talked amongst themselves and finally told their friend, Phone, from the town. He told me and we bought them tarpaulins and mosquito nets and blankets and began to talk with the NgaaiBaan about where else they could live.
Then the rain began to fall heavily and the river began to rise and soon the family had to dismantle their sodden hut and climb up to live on somebody's porch as the flood waters swept away their foundations.
The upshot is that I am now building them a house on a nice high spot that belongs to the village and has a great view of the mountains to the north. It's high and dry, with nice neighbours, plenty of trees, water supply nearby.
The father sits and stares dully, his clouded eyes full of pain---or is it simply an alcoholic haze?, but the children smile and laugh and their mother smiles and holds my hands tightly. The kids are all kitted out with everything they need for school and have started the year already.
I estimate that it will all cost a couple of thousand bucks to complete all this, including paying the builder and the locals who are working for him. I am hoping that some of you may find a few bob to send along to My Bamboo Village Foundation to help with this, as I have a few other projects that are taking my funds as well.
Contact my daughter Molly on 617 3368 2676 or piggysweetheart@yahoo.com.au She'll pop the money into the bank for me. No, I still don't have tax-free status as that costs thousands to arrange. But I have a logo and the website is in the works.
Project Number Two:
All this has been accomplished because of the remarkable Phonepasert. He comes from a village far to the north and lives here in LP with his aunt and uncle and his cousins, burly chaps of few words and sweet smiles. Phone is just finishing his nursing training and plans to move to Vientiane next year to train as a doctor.
He spent 4 years as a monk and has a sweet, kind, almost elderly demeanour, despite being only in his early twenties. He wanted to be an environmentalist but when his father fell ill, he decided that medicine was a more useful path.
Now I am looking for someone or several people who would like to sponsor him as he will need living expenses and fees to go to medical school. Please let me know if you want to know more about him and about helping him out.
He and I and my maid Mimi all share a love of plants and gardening and so he took us on a long jungle hike the other day gathering plants for my garden, orchids, vines, flowers, gingers, and herbs, guided by his mate, who knows the forest intimately, exactly where to find this or that plant, which of a maze of tiny paths to take, how to avoid the worst mud wallows, and can scamper up the tallest tree to pick fruit for large farang women with great ease.
It was an enchanting day. We started at the house site, had a lengthy conference with the builder and the gaggle of locals that always join in and contribute whenever anything is discussed, whether it has anything to do with them or not.
Then we set off on our walk, past ancient temples and relatively new ones, through Lit and Pheng's abandoned village site, past rice fields and veggie patches, fish ponds and buffalo paddocks, all shrouded in dense jungle.
Finally, loaded with plants and very muddy, we reached a village where Phone's friend lived and where we were invited to lunch. I was thinking they'd fix us a little something and we'd be on our way, but no.....
First we sat a spell and chatted. Mimi discovered that the lady of the house was in fact her cousin so they had a great time catching up. Then we went for a wander through the village, greeting old friends of Phone's and ending up at a house where they kept ducks, to purchase one for lunch. Well, when I say 'kept'---the ducks kind of wandered about in the general muddy area of the house and there was an all-family circus in progress to catch the thing by the time Phone and I continued our wander.
Finally we sat at a little table by the edge of the village and watched a column of dark silver rain as it advanced over a wide, fiercely green rice field. Three young women were laughing and picking fruit nearby and stopped to bring us a jug of cold water and glasses. Such hospitality...Finally the rain began to fall and we headed back to the house where we were served a delicious fish soup with rice. I assumed that the duck had eluded the chase and shortly after lunch wondered if we should be getting back, but no, out in the kitchen the duck was being dealt with as Mimi and her cousin chatted by the fire and chopped and pounded and prepared what turned out to be a fabulous meal of BBQ duck, with a sort of salad of duck blood and giblets, chillis, herbs, garlic and peanuts. Wonderful!
By now I had lost any sense of time or of thinking we should get back and accomplish something and soon the laolao appeared, plastic bags full of it from the local shop---home-distilled rice liquor. Filthy-tasting but very warming. One passes a glass around, refilling for each person and the jollification that ensues is always hearty indeed.
There was a short recital from one fellow who was once a doctor and is now a farmer and has a rich baritone voice, and the party really took off when the second baggie of laolao arrived. Finally, it really was time to leave because one needs to get across the Mekong before dark as the boats have no riding lights.
The village cultivator tractor was hired to get us back to Ban Xieng Maen, as we were several kilometres away. This is a two wheeled device that can plow a muddy field and also pull a small wagon and which is used for transport among the smaller villages. The journey was especially festive because our hosts, their grandson, the baritone, the forest guide, and Phoné's mate all insisted on coming with us, piling into the wagon with us, along with the rest of the laolao and the last plateful of BBQ duck as well, just to be sure we didn't get peckish on the way.
So off we chugged in the late afternoon sun, along the dirt road between rice fields and small farmhouses, drunkenly singing and clapping and laughing and hallooing, waving to the general populace, who just smiled and waved back. The glass of laolao continued to be passed amongst us and a snort was literally forced down the throat of the driver as he drove. The tiny grandson watched all this with round eyes, from his perch between Grannie's knees.
25 minutes later we poured out of the wagon and said a warm farewell to our hosts as we tumbled down the steep bank to our waiting boat and putted off across the golden river.
BUT WAIT....It doesn't end there. Once back on the Luang Prabang side of the river, Phone dropped me at my house where Sommay was in the shower, shouting, Hurry up, Mammy, we have to go soon!
Yes, his sister Nang, the one who had the grumpy husband and lost her only child to meningitis last year, was suddenly getting engaged and we had to be there for the betrothal ceremony. She is a delight and we are all very happy for her. She met the groom at her brother Xai's wedding in Vientiane only two months ago, and we all made the journey down there to celebrate the occasion. That's when I bought my car, but that's anoher story.
All the family, plus brother Xai, the groom-to-be's family, the elders of the villages, plus brothers and sisters and cousins and aunts, were all sitting on the floor at the family house in their village outside town, discussing the marriage contract, the bride price, the advisability of Nang remarrying, the procedures to be followed along with long perorations about marriage and the duties of each partner and how to have a sucessful union.
The highlight for me was when little Ai, the 3 year-old foster son of Sommay's brother, Bounlay, came into the house and chose my lap to sit on of all the assembled mob. Ah! A Grannie moment...
Then there was a baci ceremony and we tied strings and money around the wrists of the couple and then sat down to a large meal of laap, minced meat salad with herbs, rice and soup, washed down with lots of beer. I brought my usual cask of wine so as to avoid the gluten-rich brew, and we toasted and cheered and celebrated. Then the women started singing traditional jolly songs and soon somebody put on some music.
The women were pretty jolly by now and started to dance lao style and, of course, I had to join them and do my version and then it was on for one and all. We danced and danced till I was soaked with sweat and finally had to bail out and head home. What a night! What a day! What a life!!!
More soon.....
But then the children began to grow up and soon the Ngaai Baan, the village chief from the village nearby said that they could not live in the forest any more because the children had to go to school and the government did not want little tribal groups living in the forest with no services or medical care.
So the little family trudged into the big village, where they also had no services and no medical care and no money for school supplies, uniforms or fees. At some point Lit began to drink and rapidly became a helpless alcoholic, spending all his meagre earnings as a porter for people bringing cargo over the river to and from the village.
So Pheng worked harder than ever, walking back into the forest every day to gather food and tend her veggie patch and then crossing the river to the town to sell her produce in the streets. When she wasn't busy doing this she was hugging and loving and playing with her kids, still full of patience and love and smiles for her babies, despite her hard life.
The family lived on a little wooden platform covered with a grass roof, perched precariously on the edge of the Mekong River. As the rainy season grew more intense, the roof leaked copiously on the little family as they huddled in their hut, no bigger than the average vestibule.
The other villagers, not exactly flush with funds themselves, watched this and were worried. They talked amongst themselves and finally told their friend, Phone, from the town. He told me and we bought them tarpaulins and mosquito nets and blankets and began to talk with the NgaaiBaan about where else they could live.
Then the rain began to fall heavily and the river began to rise and soon the family had to dismantle their sodden hut and climb up to live on somebody's porch as the flood waters swept away their foundations.
The upshot is that I am now building them a house on a nice high spot that belongs to the village and has a great view of the mountains to the north. It's high and dry, with nice neighbours, plenty of trees, water supply nearby.
The father sits and stares dully, his clouded eyes full of pain---or is it simply an alcoholic haze?, but the children smile and laugh and their mother smiles and holds my hands tightly. The kids are all kitted out with everything they need for school and have started the year already.
I estimate that it will all cost a couple of thousand bucks to complete all this, including paying the builder and the locals who are working for him. I am hoping that some of you may find a few bob to send along to My Bamboo Village Foundation to help with this, as I have a few other projects that are taking my funds as well.
Contact my daughter Molly on 617 3368 2676 or piggysweetheart@yahoo.com.au She'll pop the money into the bank for me. No, I still don't have tax-free status as that costs thousands to arrange. But I have a logo and the website is in the works.
Project Number Two:
All this has been accomplished because of the remarkable Phonepasert. He comes from a village far to the north and lives here in LP with his aunt and uncle and his cousins, burly chaps of few words and sweet smiles. Phone is just finishing his nursing training and plans to move to Vientiane next year to train as a doctor.
He spent 4 years as a monk and has a sweet, kind, almost elderly demeanour, despite being only in his early twenties. He wanted to be an environmentalist but when his father fell ill, he decided that medicine was a more useful path.
Now I am looking for someone or several people who would like to sponsor him as he will need living expenses and fees to go to medical school. Please let me know if you want to know more about him and about helping him out.
He and I and my maid Mimi all share a love of plants and gardening and so he took us on a long jungle hike the other day gathering plants for my garden, orchids, vines, flowers, gingers, and herbs, guided by his mate, who knows the forest intimately, exactly where to find this or that plant, which of a maze of tiny paths to take, how to avoid the worst mud wallows, and can scamper up the tallest tree to pick fruit for large farang women with great ease.
It was an enchanting day. We started at the house site, had a lengthy conference with the builder and the gaggle of locals that always join in and contribute whenever anything is discussed, whether it has anything to do with them or not.
Then we set off on our walk, past ancient temples and relatively new ones, through Lit and Pheng's abandoned village site, past rice fields and veggie patches, fish ponds and buffalo paddocks, all shrouded in dense jungle.
Finally, loaded with plants and very muddy, we reached a village where Phone's friend lived and where we were invited to lunch. I was thinking they'd fix us a little something and we'd be on our way, but no.....
First we sat a spell and chatted. Mimi discovered that the lady of the house was in fact her cousin so they had a great time catching up. Then we went for a wander through the village, greeting old friends of Phone's and ending up at a house where they kept ducks, to purchase one for lunch. Well, when I say 'kept'---the ducks kind of wandered about in the general muddy area of the house and there was an all-family circus in progress to catch the thing by the time Phone and I continued our wander.
Finally we sat at a little table by the edge of the village and watched a column of dark silver rain as it advanced over a wide, fiercely green rice field. Three young women were laughing and picking fruit nearby and stopped to bring us a jug of cold water and glasses. Such hospitality...Finally the rain began to fall and we headed back to the house where we were served a delicious fish soup with rice. I assumed that the duck had eluded the chase and shortly after lunch wondered if we should be getting back, but no, out in the kitchen the duck was being dealt with as Mimi and her cousin chatted by the fire and chopped and pounded and prepared what turned out to be a fabulous meal of BBQ duck, with a sort of salad of duck blood and giblets, chillis, herbs, garlic and peanuts. Wonderful!
By now I had lost any sense of time or of thinking we should get back and accomplish something and soon the laolao appeared, plastic bags full of it from the local shop---home-distilled rice liquor. Filthy-tasting but very warming. One passes a glass around, refilling for each person and the jollification that ensues is always hearty indeed.
There was a short recital from one fellow who was once a doctor and is now a farmer and has a rich baritone voice, and the party really took off when the second baggie of laolao arrived. Finally, it really was time to leave because one needs to get across the Mekong before dark as the boats have no riding lights.
The village cultivator tractor was hired to get us back to Ban Xieng Maen, as we were several kilometres away. This is a two wheeled device that can plow a muddy field and also pull a small wagon and which is used for transport among the smaller villages. The journey was especially festive because our hosts, their grandson, the baritone, the forest guide, and Phoné's mate all insisted on coming with us, piling into the wagon with us, along with the rest of the laolao and the last plateful of BBQ duck as well, just to be sure we didn't get peckish on the way.
So off we chugged in the late afternoon sun, along the dirt road between rice fields and small farmhouses, drunkenly singing and clapping and laughing and hallooing, waving to the general populace, who just smiled and waved back. The glass of laolao continued to be passed amongst us and a snort was literally forced down the throat of the driver as he drove. The tiny grandson watched all this with round eyes, from his perch between Grannie's knees.
25 minutes later we poured out of the wagon and said a warm farewell to our hosts as we tumbled down the steep bank to our waiting boat and putted off across the golden river.
BUT WAIT....It doesn't end there. Once back on the Luang Prabang side of the river, Phone dropped me at my house where Sommay was in the shower, shouting, Hurry up, Mammy, we have to go soon!
Yes, his sister Nang, the one who had the grumpy husband and lost her only child to meningitis last year, was suddenly getting engaged and we had to be there for the betrothal ceremony. She is a delight and we are all very happy for her. She met the groom at her brother Xai's wedding in Vientiane only two months ago, and we all made the journey down there to celebrate the occasion. That's when I bought my car, but that's anoher story.
All the family, plus brother Xai, the groom-to-be's family, the elders of the villages, plus brothers and sisters and cousins and aunts, were all sitting on the floor at the family house in their village outside town, discussing the marriage contract, the bride price, the advisability of Nang remarrying, the procedures to be followed along with long perorations about marriage and the duties of each partner and how to have a sucessful union.
The highlight for me was when little Ai, the 3 year-old foster son of Sommay's brother, Bounlay, came into the house and chose my lap to sit on of all the assembled mob. Ah! A Grannie moment...
Then there was a baci ceremony and we tied strings and money around the wrists of the couple and then sat down to a large meal of laap, minced meat salad with herbs, rice and soup, washed down with lots of beer. I brought my usual cask of wine so as to avoid the gluten-rich brew, and we toasted and cheered and celebrated. Then the women started singing traditional jolly songs and soon somebody put on some music.
The women were pretty jolly by now and started to dance lao style and, of course, I had to join them and do my version and then it was on for one and all. We danced and danced till I was soaked with sweat and finally had to bail out and head home. What a night! What a day! What a life!!!
More soon.....
Sunday, September 14, 2008
I'm Baa-aa-aa-ck!!
Incredibly, the internet saga that halted my blogging all those months ago had a few more twists and turns and I've been once again without Internet access until a few days ago!!!!
I am gibbering with relief at being back online and can only hope that you haven't totally given up on me. First our internet account ran out and they just simply unplugged us. No warning, no invitation to renew, nothing.
Then we tried three different routers and many days of fiddling and re-configuring and finally the thing worked. Well, not mine, only Sommay was able to connect. There was some sort of virus that sneaked into my computer via a USB and it took days and days to fix, once it was discovered, because my computer guy works at two jobs and has very little time.
Anyway, I won't go on as it's very boring and because there is so much more to tell you that isn't....
The JOB(s).....
My 'visa' job at Pasabandith has been totally undemanding for a bit as they were doing exams and then being graded and finally graduated in a big ceremony in the Provincial Administration Auditorium, which is conveniently only a few steps from my house. Very grand with lots of varnished panelling and furniture, all decorated in day-glo orange and white bunting at the back, red white and blue bunting near the front plus hideous plastic cherry blossom branches. The students were kitted out in black academic robes edged with traditional Lao woven design. The custom here is that everyone gets flowers for graduation and takes endless photos afterwards clutching their certificates and beaming.
But now I am teaching a 'summer' course in English for Office work in the Travel Industry. Only about eight students so I won't make more than pin money, but they're nice kids and it's not too demanding, but it's every evening for an hour and a half', so my days are long.
Soon the regular term will start and I'll teach in the evenings and teach the teachers in the afternoons. Not that we have very many, as most of them quit, pissed off with the Wily Ping because of his highhanded manner with them and the pitiful salaries he pays. They get 45 bucks a month!!!!!
And I have also got a contract job to teach a group of government employees how to report verbally and in writing to an aid group who are looking at setting up an agricultural improvement project. Again, not a lot of money but a worthwhile endeavour.
Then I'm going to set up some intensive seminars for the company that runs the airport--snack bar people, Xray screening, passenger services, to bring them up to a better standard of English and tourist interaction.
That will pay well.
But my big job, as education administrator for the newest Aman resort in the chain-to be called Amantaka, is fairly full-on just now. Two weeks ago I interviewed 700 job applicants in five days. I was screening for English levels and then sending them off to the various department heads. It was mammoth.
I also had to find translators and helpers for this enterprise and it was hot and sticky and utterly exhausting. One night I came home and fell asleep, completely missing my evening class.
Then this past week we did the Second Interview for which we called back about 300 people, and then had a two day Management Training Seminar, which entailed listening to hours of motivational gobbledygook and doing daft things in teams to develop team spirit and define our values. Or something. But I survived. And yes, we developed lots of rapport and bonded and all that.
Then last night we had a gala night out for just the ten of us with beautiful Lao food and music and dancing and a Baci ceremony to celebrate our bondedness. Afterwards a few of us went out and had a lot of fun getting roaring drunk. So now we're all well-bonded and rather hungover.
So, work-wise, I am very busy and in much demand. In about two weeks I'll start teaching the Amantaka employees and I'll learn the real meaning of the word 'work'.
Right now I am going to re-define the meaning of sleep, as I've been gardening all day and am utterly pooped. So tired in fact that I had to turn down an invitation to eat with Sommay's family tonight. They ran over a snake on the way back from the Pak Ou boat-racing festival (Sommay's brother Bounlay captained the winning team!!!) and were having a feast of snake soup. Cheers!
I am gibbering with relief at being back online and can only hope that you haven't totally given up on me. First our internet account ran out and they just simply unplugged us. No warning, no invitation to renew, nothing.
Then we tried three different routers and many days of fiddling and re-configuring and finally the thing worked. Well, not mine, only Sommay was able to connect. There was some sort of virus that sneaked into my computer via a USB and it took days and days to fix, once it was discovered, because my computer guy works at two jobs and has very little time.
Anyway, I won't go on as it's very boring and because there is so much more to tell you that isn't....
The JOB(s).....
My 'visa' job at Pasabandith has been totally undemanding for a bit as they were doing exams and then being graded and finally graduated in a big ceremony in the Provincial Administration Auditorium, which is conveniently only a few steps from my house. Very grand with lots of varnished panelling and furniture, all decorated in day-glo orange and white bunting at the back, red white and blue bunting near the front plus hideous plastic cherry blossom branches. The students were kitted out in black academic robes edged with traditional Lao woven design. The custom here is that everyone gets flowers for graduation and takes endless photos afterwards clutching their certificates and beaming.
But now I am teaching a 'summer' course in English for Office work in the Travel Industry. Only about eight students so I won't make more than pin money, but they're nice kids and it's not too demanding, but it's every evening for an hour and a half', so my days are long.
Soon the regular term will start and I'll teach in the evenings and teach the teachers in the afternoons. Not that we have very many, as most of them quit, pissed off with the Wily Ping because of his highhanded manner with them and the pitiful salaries he pays. They get 45 bucks a month!!!!!
And I have also got a contract job to teach a group of government employees how to report verbally and in writing to an aid group who are looking at setting up an agricultural improvement project. Again, not a lot of money but a worthwhile endeavour.
Then I'm going to set up some intensive seminars for the company that runs the airport--snack bar people, Xray screening, passenger services, to bring them up to a better standard of English and tourist interaction.
That will pay well.
But my big job, as education administrator for the newest Aman resort in the chain-to be called Amantaka, is fairly full-on just now. Two weeks ago I interviewed 700 job applicants in five days. I was screening for English levels and then sending them off to the various department heads. It was mammoth.
I also had to find translators and helpers for this enterprise and it was hot and sticky and utterly exhausting. One night I came home and fell asleep, completely missing my evening class.
Then this past week we did the Second Interview for which we called back about 300 people, and then had a two day Management Training Seminar, which entailed listening to hours of motivational gobbledygook and doing daft things in teams to develop team spirit and define our values. Or something. But I survived. And yes, we developed lots of rapport and bonded and all that.
Then last night we had a gala night out for just the ten of us with beautiful Lao food and music and dancing and a Baci ceremony to celebrate our bondedness. Afterwards a few of us went out and had a lot of fun getting roaring drunk. So now we're all well-bonded and rather hungover.
So, work-wise, I am very busy and in much demand. In about two weeks I'll start teaching the Amantaka employees and I'll learn the real meaning of the word 'work'.
Right now I am going to re-define the meaning of sleep, as I've been gardening all day and am utterly pooped. So tired in fact that I had to turn down an invitation to eat with Sommay's family tonight. They ran over a snake on the way back from the Pak Ou boat-racing festival (Sommay's brother Bounlay captained the winning team!!!) and were having a feast of snake soup. Cheers!
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