Love Those Dried Bananas

Several years ago, as part of a drive to improve the Thai economy at the local (village) level, the OTOP program was started. OTOP stands for "One Tambon, One Product," a tambon being a unit of local government approximately equal to a township. Every tambon has the opportunity to specialize in one or more products, and these locally-made products, when approved, will have a special label on their packaging marking them as OTOP. They can also be rated with a certain number of stars (1 to 5) indicating their quality. Examples of OTOPs in our area include cloth weaving, banana chips, and sweetened rice cakes. OTOPs I have seen from other parts of the country include dried mushrooms, wood carving, silk weaving, and all sorts of sweets and snacks.

After our school visit to a village north of town yesterday, we were taken by Pi Nongnut – a very enthusiastic woman who is part of that area’s governing council – to visit the local OTOP makers. We were taken to a lovely piece of property with a very large and beautiful traditional northern Thai house. Outside the house were two long tables covered in plastic. Looking under the plastic, we were able to see rows of "sweet water" bananas (a popular variety) drying in the warm sun, protected from bugs. We also went inside the packing building, where Pi Nongnut showed off the clean facilities and machines for sealing the bananas in plastic packaging.

Not only did we get to taste several of the delicious bananas fresh from the drying tables, but we were given ten boxes to take home with us! Our refrigerator is now very, very full.

Signs Again

In a typical five day work week, our Peace Corps project has us working in 2 primary schools apiece, 2 days a week, for a total of four regular days in school per week. They may or may not be full days, for example, I usually don’t leave for my Monday-Thursday school until about 9:30am because we don’t teach English until 10:00. The fifth day of the week, Wednesdays in our case, is flexible. We might work at the school district office, or help judge an English competition, or do official paperwork or reports for Peace Corps, or visit a school that we don’t usually attend. Today we did a school visit.

It was a very delightful day. The school was located about 15 kilometers north of town in a small village. It was clear to us that this community takes a lot of pride in their school – the grounds were well cared-for and decorated, and teachers enjoyed showing us various student projects including agriculture, basket-making, and raising fish and pigs. In the morning, we did a 90-minute English lesson with the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders, and in the afternoon with did the same with 4th, 5th, and 6th.

One of my favorite things about this school was the abundance of signs with interesting sayings nailed to the trees. This is a very Thai phenomena – I have seen it at other schools and temples. Usually they remind the reader to live in moderation or take time to reflect on their life. Some of the signs at this school, however, had some unexpected sayings... Take the time to enlarge the photos and see what you can read!

When we asked about the "villains" saying, we were given a long complicated explanation about people who grow up in poor villages, then suddenly become rich, and eventually forget who they are and where they came from. We weren’t sure about the English translation.

World Map #2

It’s that time of year again. Last year I did a World Map project at my Tuesday-Friday school. This year we’re doing one at my Monday-Thursday school. It’s great fun! This year’s World Cup got kids particularly interested in knowing where different countries are, especially the ones with good soccer teams.

We do it the old-fashioned way. Using a guide from Peace Corps, I made color-coded guide sheets for each sector of the map. We drew a grid on the wall, and the kids used the grid and guide sheets to draw all the countries in pencil first. (I had to fix Europe and part of Africa, but on the whole they did a nice job.)

Now we are painting. So far we’ve done yellow, green, and red. Aside from a few paint-related issues (too much water added at first, not enough containers for leftover paint), it’s going well and starting to look nice. I do spend a lot of time patching up border areas, but I find it to be fulfilling work!

A Pocket of Nice on the Mekong

Having just returned from a rather calamitous four-day weekend trip to Chiang Rai province, which perhaps I’ll describe another day, I’m trying to remember that it’s the little things in life that can bring us joy. Not every vacation will be fun, even when you’re using two of your precious Peace Corps vacation days. Not every "must see" in Thailand will be seen during our two years here, even if it is only 7 hours by three vehicles away. But even when a four-day weekend turns out to be just a lot of money spent to sit on buses for nothing, there are still a few small pleasures to be celebrated.

Although I’ve considered myself to be vegetarian for over ten years now, I did start to eat some fish in particular circumstances about five years ago. Being vegetarian in Thailand has saved me from many an unpleasant dining experience – I don’t have to worry about being served raw meat, processed fish shaped like mouse faces, or other such "delicacies." But I know that it has also meant that I’ve missed out on trying a lot of the local cuisine, which is very much meat-based.

On occasion, when far away from anyone who might recognize me, I do take the opportunity to try a little fish if it’s prepared in a special "local" way. In Laos, I tried some of Robert’s fish "laab" – minced fish salad with spices and herbs. Last April, I enjoyed grilled mackerel on the beach. And Friday night, one of the few parts of this weekend vacation that worked out, I enjoyed "fish steamed in bamboo", a local specialty of Chiang Saen town in Chiang Rai, while sitting at a little table overlooking the Mekong River after sunset. It was positively a delightful meal – also including sticky rice and spicy papaya salad – and despite the various disappointments of the weekend, I am still left feeling quite fond of the Mekong and its culinary offerings.

Vientiane -- A Relaxing Town

This is the tenth and final chapter of our Laos journey.

To complete our time in Laos, we spent one day in the capital, Vientiane (pronounced "Wiang Chan"). A pleasant city situated on the Mekong River, we found Vientiane to fit with the understanding of Laos we had developed over the week: similar to Thailand in many ways, but calmer and more expensive.

We spent several hours at the Lao National Museum, focusing on the exhibits that included English labels but paying some attention to the Thai and French as well. Most fascinating was the emphasis on the "greatness" of Communism and the strong antipathy towards the "American imperialists." After reading label after label decrying the actions of the United States during the 1970s – most of the strong language probably deserved, though not what I’d expect to find in a historical museum – I began to feel a bit uneasy about my own presence in the country. It was a strange – not fearful, but maybe a little guilty – feeling. I’m very glad we got to see it, though, because I think it was an experience I couldn’t have had elsewhere.

We also visited Laos’s most important temple, Wat Pathat Luang. The gold lotus glinting in the sunlight was hot, but it was fun to see a different design style than we usually find in Thailand. Two major tourists sites were enough for us for one day, though, so we spent the remainder of our time strolling the parkway along the river, eating baguettes, reading, and enjoying one last Beer Lao. It was a true vacation.

A Day on a Laos Highway

This is Chapter 9 of our Laos journey.

After two lovely full days in Luang Prabang, on Friday morning we boarded a "VIP" bus for the day-long journey to Vientianne, the current capital of Laos. Many people make this journey overnight, but I have to say they don’t know what they are missing. This bus ride – despite the occasional engine caught fire or delay at a police station – was one of the highlights of our trip, and as I sit at my computer several weeks later thinking back on Laos, it is those images we saw from windows of the bus that feature most prominently in my memories.

After leaving the city of Luang Prabang, the bus climbed high and then higher, and higher, and higher. Soon we were above the clouds – at least the low-level mountain clouds – and there we stayed, for five hours, winding our way very slowly and carefully along ridges. We’d look down into huge valleys, sometimes on either side, and marvel at the wildness of it.

Every five to ten kilometers, we would pass through a tiny village. Thatched-roof houses were built right along the sides of the cliffs. A community water pump stood in the center of each village, and there we would see women washing clothes or children splashing. Mats covered with drying rice or chilies lay in the sunshine. Men, women, and children walked along the road, sometimes steeply uphill, with large bundles on their backs. Even though we were watching it all through the windows of a bus, I felt like we were visitors in another world. Upon a later reading of our guidebook, we learned that this area was "the heart of Hmong country" and the site of many rebel attacks over past decades. If there was one place in Laos I would love to have the chance to go back and explore, this would be it.

About halfway along the trip, the bus was passing through a lowland Lao village and suddenly swerved and hit a wagon. This resulted in a 3-hour delay, during which the three bus employees negotiated with the wagon owners, the police, and other interested locals. The tourists, meanwhile, wandered about and drank sodas. Finally, some money exchanged hands and we were free to leave again. We finished with the high mountain roads but continued to wind along lovely valleys and past tiny villages.

Pulling into the city of Vientianne at night was almost a letdown. We might have been traveling the main highway between two of Laos’s major cities, but it felt like the wilds of Southeast Asia to us.

[Most photos were taken through the windows of the bus, so please forgive any reflections or blurriness.]

Thoughts on the People of Luang Prabang

This is Chapter 6 of our Laos journey. There will be 8 chapters in all.

Our time in Laos was very short, and I don’t claim to be able to describe its peoples or cultures in any comprehensive way like I might about Thailand after being here nearly two years. However, we did make a number of interesting observations during our days in Luang Prabang.

Thailand, being 75% ethnic Thai (including Thai Lao) and 11% ethnic Chinese, has a relatively homogenous culture with some regional variation. National unity is strong, with few exceptions, and conformity is strongly valued. Other ethnic groups – particularly other southeast Asians – are often viewed with suspicion or even distaste.

In Laos, by contrast, only about 50% of the people are ethnic "Lao." The other half of the population is made up of more than 100 different ethnicities, including numerous Thai subgroups, hill tribes, Chinese, and Vietnamese. Although the groups are geographically separated, with the Lao primarily living in the flatter lowlands and other ethnic groups inhabiting the hills and mountains, society as a whole is much more mixed than in Thailand. During our short visit, we speculated that social conformity and unity are less important in Laos.

Economically, the people of Luang Prabang are at an interesting point. The city is geographically isolated – connected to other areas only by a small highway and the Mekong River. Tourism has brought about a recent boom, however, and entire streets and blocks are filled with guest houses and restaurants catering to foreigners. Although most of the city is still residential, it is obvious that tourism is rapidly increasing the living standards of a select group.

When we hiked up the hill in the middle of town, the path took us through a neighborhood of shabby houses and shacks. The people living there were clearly not wealthy, and their homes had few comforts. What nearly every house seemed to have, however, was a satellite dish. As we rose higher above the roofs of the neighborhood, we could see them poking up to the sky. What are they used for? As far as we could tell, to watch Thai TV. We saw many families watching Thai soap operas, commercials, and music shows. We even saw the Thai national anthem as it was played daily at 6pm.

We were struck by the high cost of living in Laos as compared to Thailand. A plate of noodles that would cost 50 cents here was at least 75 cents there. At first we thought it was because we tourists and visiting mostly tourist areas. It became clear, though, that even the residents of Luang Prabang were paying the higher prices. We weren’t sure whether this was because tourism has inflated the prices of basic necessities, or because the isolation of the city means that those necessities are more scarce to begin with, though we were inclined to lean towards the latter explanation. By contrast, however, the price of souvenirs – silk scarves, hill tribe handicrafts, etc – was far cheaper than in Thailand. We were excited to make a few purchases for our future home in America!

Overall, our visit to Laos left us with many questions about its society and culture. I only wish we had more time to travel back and find some answers.



[The photo of the watercress salad is included to show more of the remarkably delicious local food – Lao with French influence – we were able to eat in Laos.]

Tourists in Luang Prabang

This is Chapter 5 of our Laos journey.

Luang Prabang, the former royal capital of Laos and a UNESCO World Heritage site, is set on the Mekong river and surrounded by wild mountains. French colonialism heavily influenced its architecture, and to our delight, its food as well. We had heard reports from other volunteers about its mellow avenues, riverside restaurants, tasty baguettes and strong coffee, and we had been looking forward to experiencing it all ourselves.

Our first evening, we dined on the river, enjoying a medley of local foods, sticky rice, and Beer Lao. A highlight of the meal was the "Salad Luang Prabang," made of watercress that grows along the river and a tangy dressing. We then retired to the Thavisouk Guest House, a pleasant place located in a residential area, away from the main tourist roads. We fell asleep feeling as though we were still floating along the brown waters of the Mekong.

Our two full days in Luang Prabang were spent strolling along its calm, clean, monk-filled streets and visiting a couple of temples. One site, That Chomsi, was situated high on a hill in the center of town. We walked up cool, shady paths, past old statues and stones, to find fantastic views from the top. The Royal Museum, with its gardens and art exhibits along with the usual treasures of an old kingdom, was another highlight. From time to time, we ran into fellow travelers from our two days on the boat, and one evening we dined with Ben & Young. Mostly, however, we just took our time . . . drinking fruit smoothies, writing postcards and journal entries, enjoying the feeling of not having to hurry anywhere or be "on duty" for anyone.

Aside from a few bumps, like Robert’s mild food poisoning that kept him from eating as many baguettes as I did over the course of the week and our realization that being tourists in Lampang was using more of our budget than expected, our days in Luang Prabang convinced us that travel as a twosome is something we ought to have more of in our future.

Never Boring

My description of our Laos journey is not yet finished, but this evening’s events required a different blog entry for today. More Laos to come later.

I knew that something was out of the ordinary this morning when I left for school, because our neighbors across the street seemed to be making large structures out of colored paper – always the sign of loud festivities to come. But because Loy Kratong holiday is this weekend, I assumed their activities must be somehow related.

I was then only partially surprised to arrive home from school and market shortly before 5pm, ready to make dinner and spend the evening doing household chores, to find that a party was in full swing just five feet from our gate. There were the money trees, the tables covered with sticky rice containers and bottles of whiskey, the bowls of peanuts, the crowds of laughing people. There too were the neighborhood northern Thai musicians, practicing their drums and chimes.

Knowing I would eventually be joining in one way or another, and realizing that my plans for a relatively quiet evening were of no use, I ducked into the house to quickly change clothes and unpack bags of vegetables. When Robert arrived five minutes later, Pi La from across the street came over to tell us that there would be a parade to the temple shortly after 5pm, and we were invited to join in the fun.

We scrambled to eat some snacks, put together some money to donate to the tree, and lock up the house, shouting at each other over the noise. When the regular beat of the drums started, we joined in the crowd and started walking: up our lane, along the main road, passing by students and teachers and food vendors. The women walked in front, singing and dancing, while the men trailed behind, playing music or smoking cigarettes. Both men and women carried glasses of ice which were constantly refilled with beer and whiskey, so the revelry continued all the way to the temple.

Once inside the grounds, we circumnavigated the main hall three times – still singing and dancing – before taking off our shoes and entering. When we were finally seated in the back and waiting for the monks to begin chanting, we had a chance to ask the reason for the celebration. "Oh," said Pi See, who lives behind us. "Pi La won the lottery yesterday. More than 100,000 baht. Number 5-7-9." So all the merit-making, feasting, drinking, singing, and dancing, were to show thanks for the winning ticket. [Thai people are crazy about the lottery and very intense about the process of choosing their numbers. It’s typical to celebrate a win by hosting your friends or co-workers to a meal or party. Robert went out for lunch today with the teachers from his school because one of them had won big yesterday also, so she paid for everyone.]

Since it’s Thursday night and we have a busy weekend approaching, we were thankful that the monk chanting didn’t last too long. We were soon on our way home through the dark cool night in the back of a pickup truck. We’re in for the evening, but as I type there are still a few people across the street enjoying the remnants of the event.

[The photos are actually from two previous events, but show the same parade to the wat concept.]