We arrive at a muddy bank on the side of the river. Khon Keung can only be reached by boat and when we arrived there wasn't a soul to be seen. We climbed the high muddy bank, through the empty stalls which once a week would be a busy market. At the top we saw Fan in his bright orange robes waiting for us and we followed him in silence at a distance through what is actually a large village (around 100 huts on stilts) There are some minority tribes people living here whom we think are mostly Khmu (still checking this out) but classed as an Upland Laos village
As we walked up and down the red muddy banks more and more excited children followed us, some of the younger ones quite warily as they presumably haven't seen white people or strangers. As we passed the school they stopped and we kept going and finally arrived at the hut of his mother.
They are all made from Bamboo and woven banana leaves and his mothers house has a tin roof. We climbed the steep stairs (without handrail), removed our extremely muddy shoes and walked in to the one room which has a corner partitioned off with netting that is the sleeping area. Large rice sacks, pots and pans and wicker baskets were piled up in the other corner. On the floor are mats - some made of cotton, the others rattan. There is no electricity in this village other than the small amount made from a contraption of sticks and a dynamo in the river. It's obviously very effective. Fan was taking photos with his mobile and it said low battery. We were astounded when 1/2 an hour later his young brother returned it to him fully charged!
We had brought a few presents - apples and some coffee for Fans mother, a teddy bear for his young sister Sau and a shirt and a couple of exercise books and pens for his brother Un. His mother chuckled at the bear. Apparently she isn't too well mentally (she's only 30 something and looks 60) so we've no idea whether she thought the presents were for her as she didn't hand them to the children. Possibly she didn't want any of the villagers to see and they probably don't get presents so they don't anyway have the same significance as they do in the western world.
We were asked to sit down. I didn't sit next to Fan as then there was no fear of me accidentally touching him as it is disallowed for a woman to touch the robes of a monk or hand him anything directly.
Over the next hour people came and went to see what and who we are I guess. A man in his late 20's or early 30's sat at the head of the circle and stayed for a while - we learnt he is the head of the village. This surprised us as we imagined the heads of villages to be old but it seems the government is encouraging the younger men to take this position as they tend to be better educated. Fan handed David a bag of sweets and everytime a visitor arrived Fan prompted David to give them one, except for one lady I noticed - no idea who she was, perhaps the lady his father has left his mother for, surely not.
Then there was a short lull and slightly uncomfortable silence until the same people started to return, carrying baskets of sticky rice, steaming chicken and beer bottles one of which which we were later to experience contained Lao Lao (lethal rice wine). Un was extremely active in all these preparations, running to and fro.
Because Fan is a monk he is much respected by all and just sat, beamed at us periodically and gently commanded. His mother had a silver bowl which she filled with rice and in it she placed a decoration and candles with the rice keeping them in place. This was put on a round silver table but not before a white table cloth was carefully laid over it. The whole thing (the pah kwan) was then placed in the centre of the room and the women busily made table decorations from banana leaves to go around it. We are watching the preparation of a Baci Ceremony which is about to be held in our honour.
Baci is an animist ritual used to celebrate important events and occasions, like births and marriages and also entering the monkhood, departing, returning, beginning a new year, and welcoming or bidding etc. The ritual of the baci involves tying strings around a person’s wrist to preserve good luck. The belief is the body has 32 organ spirits and it is best to keep as many of them as possible in the body at one time so the ceremony is to call back any that might have wandered off. These strings should be left on the wrist for 3 days and then either untied or left to fall off. They mustn't be cut.
There must have been over 20 villagers in this small home, which included the village head, Fan's grandfather, his sister who had come from school, his father, mother and an assembly of others. All those seated round the table, ourselves included, had to put their hands on the table, singing started and then proceeded quite quickly with some chanting then we had to put our hands back on the table facing upwards this time, then hold them in the air at which point each person in a scramble tied a white piece of string on each of our wrists. We probably have around 10 on each one.
Fans father who was conducting the ceremony then poured us each a little Lao Lao, then a little more! then we were handed a piece of chicken and rice and with the official part over everyone tucked into the food, Lao Lao and beer. I noticed the women had gravitated to their own circle so it seemed polite that I should move to theirs. They all laughed a lot at this so I have to think it was the right thing to do. A couple of inches of beer was poured into a glass and the first person would drink it, leaving a small amount they would pour it onto the floor, I guess to clean away their germs on the glass?. Then the next person and so on. Every time it got to me they poured about 4" - I think they were trying to get me drunk!
It was soon 12 o'clock and we had to go. A few photos were taken and off we set back through the village alone except for our guide Phonsi to our boat. We set off downriver for the four hour journey to Luang Prabang. As we journeyed we had plenty of time to reflect. It was quite hard thinking of how they all live, especially when it's cold and wet. Everything is damp all the time and there's no way of drying anything except by a fire. The babies have no nappies so their soiled clothes are constantly being washed. One little boys trousers were so thread bare that you could see his pants but they were too so his little bum poked through. But it's what they're used to I suppose but used to it or not I'm sure doesn't make it easier. Fans lodgings at the temple in Luang Prabang we now realise are quite a step up from home.
As we journeyed downstream we passed groups of people panning for gold, collecting weed, feeding their pigs on the beach, washing clothes at the rivers edge, fishing and generally carrying on their daily lives. Some would wave and others wouldn't. It really is an incredibly tough life for the majority of the Lao people and we have only had a glimpse.
Finally Luang Prabang came into view, and with it electricity, hot water and dry beds. What softies we are. Walking back into the Apsara was like coming home!
N.B. Animist - people who worship their ancestry and believe in the spirits.
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