We set out for the province to visit one of our weavers Nouthong around noon. Taking the local bus, the bus slowed down whenever it approached a village for passengers to hop on. Passengers can stop the bus when there is a food stall or a little convenient store to buy snacks and water. Since it is the rice-farming season now, on the way I saw hectares and hectares of rice fields. Because of the abundant rain, the rice fields are flooded with water and the water glimmered under the blazing sun. After about 4 hours of bus ride we finally arrived at the central bus station of the province. I thought we were nearly at the end of our journey. We were told that the little truck to the village will leave in an hour. An hour got extended to an hour and a half, then to two hours. The reason for the delay was that the driver wanted more people to get on the truck. I later learned from Nouthong’s husband why filling the truck was so important. Nouthong's husband also owns a pick-up truck but he only works 5 times a month because there are too many trucks and too few passengers.
About 6 hours after we started our journey, we finally arrived at Nouthong’s house! Nouthong greeted us with a warm and loving smile. The TV in the living room was on and just like every other Lao household, the TV was turned to a music video channel, playing thai songs with music videos that had very complicated story lines. I always find them entertaining! As dinner time approached, a huge basket of sticky rice was brought out. The main dish for the night was stir-fried buffalo meat with vegetables.
After dinner, Nouthong, my translator Ann and I sat in front of the TV and chatted about random matters while watching a Thai drama that was on. We chitchatted till about 11 o’clock! I asked if I could go to the temple the next morning to give rice to the monks. Instead, Nouthong suggested that we wake up early to go to the morning market. The plan was set, tomorrow morning at 5:30am.
We headed to the bedrooms that were located upstairs. The bedrooms were literally bedrooms in the sense that they were only meant to be a place to sleep. The second floor had three rooms, each about the size of a double-size bed. Since I’m incredibly tall for Lao standard, my feet would be outside of the room if I stretched them!
The next morning I was woken up by Ann. It was still very dim outside and I heard the sound of the drizzling rain. I headed downstairs and Nouthong was already in the kitchen heating up the left over sticky rice.
Ann, me and Nouthong’s husband headed to the market while Nouthong stayed home to prepare for breakfast. At the market, we bought food that we can give to the monks. I was very surprised to find out that Laotian monks are not vegetarians! Nouthong’s husband and Ann were equally surprised when I told them that monks in Taiwan don’t eat meat, eggs, and spices (including hot pepper, garlic, and scallion). At the market they were selling insects for 10,000 kips (around $1) per bowl. I recalled that one of the UN brochures I read a few weeks ago had a section on promoting insect farming in Laos, since insects are a great source of proteins and calcium where food resources are limited.
Ann decided that she wanted to cook something for breakfast. Since it was still chilly around 6am, I sat by the cooking fire with Ann and watched her make papaya salad and again, stir-fried buffalo meat with another vegetable. Nouthong later joined us and started cleaning the insects that we bought, taking out the non-edible bits as we would usually do for fish and meat.
Ann and I decided to join the villagers in a microfinance meeting. There, I was confronted with the challenging reality of implementing a microfinance program. Often times in order to repay for loans, the villagers will go borrow money from an underground money lender that charges even a higher interest rate and end up being in further debt. Or in another case, the villagers make loans from multiple institutions, and end up with a huge loan that they cannot repay. Though there are many successful stories of microfinance, there are definitely problems that high pay-back rates simply do not reveal.
After 3 hours of meeting, we headed back to Nouthong’s house for lunch. In order to make up for the fact that I missed the chance to give food to the monks, Nouthong’s husband and my friend Lot who accompanied Ann and I to Bolikhamxay, brought me to the temple beside their house after lunch.
In the premises of the temple, there was an open space where there were three poles standing, and on each pole there was a flag like cloth attached. I asked Lot what these flags were. He explained that these flags are for people who have passed away. They are meant to be like ladders that will guide the dead on their journey to heaven.
It was time to say goodbye. I left Bolikhamxay with two promises to Nouthong – 1. to send her a copy of the photo that we took together 2. to come back again!
