Kilometers

Four years

2011-10-22T04:43:00.000+07:00

It's been a while since I updated and our project in Salavan finished a year ago. I had hoped to document seasonal changes and what's been built around the province by going back to the kilometer posts. What's the weather like, what buildings have been torn down, what has been built in their place?

Laos may seem like a small and underdeveloped country, but big changes are happening. It has one of the highest economic growth indices in the region, largely because of development of infrastructure, hydro-power and mining. Old buildings are being torn down and new ones are taking their places.

So, I'm doing kilometers in general, and also going back over my own photos to see what old photos I have compared to what I have now. I've also been doing a lot of bicycling, and will do even more now that the rainy season is finishing.

I also do a lot of observing and thinking while I'm peddling, so I'll post some of my stories here as well.

kilometers in Vientiane

2007-08-05T23:10:00.000+07:00

Beautiful day for a bicycle ride, with the monsoon clouds hanging over the horizon by the escarpment leading to the Nam Ngeum Dam and the rice, water and reflections on the ground.

There are kilometer stones around Vientiane too. Well, of course, you want to know where you're going and how far it is. Sometimes you have to look a little harder than usual, especially during the rainy season.

I went on a long bike ride today. It's very beautiful at this time of the year with the rice plants starting to fill out and turn dark green. There are still many people starting to plant rice, which is very strange - it seems like parts of the north are not getting very much rain and down around Salavan, where I work, it rains too much.

While I was riding north on Rt. 13, the Luangprabang Rd, I passed an accident: motorcycle versus bicycle. There were flipflops in the road and someone's hat. Apparently, it was a slow motion accident and no one was injured. As I passed the site again, about two hours later, the police had just arrived to interview the witnesses, mainly vendors. However, as I stopped to take a picture of the above kilometer stone, I heard a dragging noise and a crash. Another motorcycle, probably rubbernecking, had crashed into another bicycle so the road was littered with two motorcycles and two bicycles. The police, on the right, are by the first accident and the motorcycle lying in the road is from the second. Crash Vientiane drivers.

While I'm waiting to get back to Salavan....

2007-08-05T11:41:00.000+07:00

I'm in Vientiane now, after a back and forth period of traveling which left me no time to think, much less get on my bike and explore the kilometer posts of Salavan. Well, I'll be back in Salavan this week so hope to get back on to my journey again.

While I'm on my travels, I'm always wondering what it would be like to live in this particular village, to grow up in this particular culture. I was once honored to share a train compartment with a Hindu woman between Jaipur and Delhi - although she and I were the same age, our life experiences were so different. She was a civil servant, who had just returned from doing an STI training in the dessert communities - she talked about her frustrations as well as rewards of her work.

A few weeks ago, I went running out in the rice fields while people were planting. There were a good number of well dressed children from Vientiane, visiting their relatives and learning how to plant rice.

So while I'm waiting for the next milestone, here's a little story:

Tik's grandparents directed the planting of the rice, watching over the water levels in the fields, negotiated with the neighbors to help each other during the harvest. Their daytime selves seemed to be trapped in dealing with the things in front of them: chores, food, getting by. And during the summer vacations, they had to deal with Tik.

When Tik's father dropped him off, his grandmother become angry. "Daeng, aren't you going to stay to help?" Tik's father made a face as he brushed dust off his silk shirt. Tik knew that he didn't like being called by this nickname.

"Who me?" He laughed and reached into his pocket. "I left this all behind a long time ago." He counted out some fifty-thousand kip notes and held them out to her. "I've got a job and I can't afford the time off from work."

Tik's grandmother turned away, mumbling. Tik heard her say, "He's lost his connection with the land." Tik's father made a motion towards his grandmother's back with the hand holding the bills. Tik nodded and tucked them into his pants. He'll make sure that they end up in grandmother's purse.

"Well, I'll be going now." Tik's father got into the car and started the engine. Although it only took a few hours for him to return home, Tik knew that his father would stop off at his girlfriend's house. Tik turned back towards the wooden shack that his grandparents lived in, not sure where he belonged.

For the rest of the day, Tik helped with the transplanting of the rice seedlings. A few of his friends from the summer before joined them to help. Grandmother and Grandfather shouted at him to continue working, grumbling about having to take care of such a naughty boy. Tik kept quiet because he knew that the miracle would happen at night.

That night, when they lit the oil lamps, they entered a different land. In the bamboo hut, lit by the orange lit casting fuzzy shadows, Tik's grandparents traveled. "Daeng, I was looking for you at Sompheng's house," His grandmother said, her face soft and dreamy. Sompheng, his father's friend, had died years ago.

"I've been here all day," Tik whispered.

"I told you not to lie," his grandfather said. "You should listen to your mother."

"I'll do better," Tik whispered, realizing that he had been transformed into his father as a child.

He sat and listened while his grandparents remembered the events of years ago as if they had happened during the day. When this first happened, he was surprised but later he learned to listen intently. When they grew quiet, lost in their thoughts, Tik wrote it all down.

Hot season

2007-04-01T11:37:00.000+07:00

I've got a whole bunch of pictures that I haven't posted yet - all the way up to Km. 25! Unfortunately, my internet connection is a little funky when I'm in the field and when I've got a fast connection, I - uh - forget to update.

I was thinking I'd get on the bike to get up to Km. 30 this weekend - but it is absolutely.too.hot! It's about 95 degrees in the house right now so I'm going out to find some shade. I'll post some kilometers later today, but not these kilometers.

Just in case anyone's wondering

2006-12-27T12:19:00.000+07:00

There was a strong earthquake in Taiwan this morning. I don't have a TV, but still get some info on the internet so I'm relieved that it's not that strong thought 20 people have been killed and some buildings have collapsed.

Anyway, I just got an e-mail from my ISP saying that internet service is going to be pretty spotty for a while. Can't get on to Livejournal at all. Oh well, just returned to Vientiane from Xieng Khouang and will go back to Salavan at the beginning of the year to continue work and the km. stone pilgrimage.

Happy International New Year all!

Km. 8

2006-12-19T20:07:00.000+07:00

A family who has been living in a shack at Km. 8 (Left hand side) just started building a house. I'll be checking on the progress as time goes on. Most people save up what they can and go on a building spree until the money is gone. Usually, there will be a flurry of activity followed by a lull where the weeds grow up inside the foundations of the house. Once the exterior walls are up, the family will move inside while they do the interior work. In the cities, once the house is finished, they'll try to rent it out, and if successful, will move back to the original shack and be caretakers for the new renters.

My trusty bicycle.

This house hasn't gotten started yet. At least they have their foundations to stake their claim.

Km. 7

2006-12-19T12:21:00.000+07:00

In hot pursuit of more kilometer stones, we now come to Km 7, on the outskirts of Salavan and almost at the next - unnamed - village. In the mornings, I can run as far as the village, where the kids seem to be perpetually waiting for me, or another jogger. They come piling out of the houses, yelling "Hello" and "Falang", which is how they refer to foreigners. The original work, in Lao pronunciation, is Farangset for "French." So the term Falang refers to any foreigners.

Looking across the road from Km. 7.

Km. 6

2006-12-18T16:30:00.000+07:00

The kilometer six stone sits in the middle of a field of sensitive plants. They grow all over the place in Lao, in all climate types. They get the name because if you touch the leaves, the whole branch drops and folds in on itself. It's kinda fun to do this, but I always worry that I'm terrorizing the poor plants.

I once bought some seeds and grew a thick bunch of them when I lived in California. Unfortunately, I had left them outside in the fall and there was a freeze while I went away for the weekend. Now I live in a place where I don't have to have these plants in a special pot.

Km. 5

2006-12-18T16:18:00.000+07:00

Starting at Kilometer 5, things start to get more interesting. The marker is just beyond the Phou Fah Guesthouse, which is now the swankiest place to stay in the city (not in the province - the best place to stay is at Thad Lor Waterfall, but that's at Km. 30 and a story for the future!). Just beyond the marker are the newly harvested rice fields. This time of the year is the dry and cool season - it doesn't rain very much and a sudden cold wind will blow in during the night. It's an exciting time of year.

Unfortunately, we have to deal with plastic bag trash not matter where you are. When I first started working in Thailand twenty years ago, everyone wrapped food in little packages of banana leaves. Now, double wrapping everything in plastic bags is considered "more modern." Is this an example of development?

Km. 4

2006-12-18T15:57:00.000+07:00

This kilometer stone and its neighborhood are not very inspiring, so I got up early one morning and peddled off to take a picture that would show it at its best. Across the road is a half-completed gas station and the other view is of an old depot that houses broken down military vehicles. They do look mysterious in the early morning light.

Km. 3

2006-12-18T15:14:00.000+07:00

The first milestone is at Km. 3. I'm not sure where the road is supposed to start but the first landmark is here. The first time I visited Salavan, the triangle of land behind the stone was a junk yard - piled up trees and bushes which caught the blowing plastic bags on their branches. We just started to work here in July and already I've seen changes in the city. They're paving the streets, new houses are going up and some of the community areas are getting a makeover. Now, the triangle of land is a park - grass, a couple of palm trees and benches. It's rather pleasant.

The children of an Australian friend living in Salavan told me that the park is their favorite place in the town. So that certainly is the ultimate recommendation!

I'll keep looking around to see if I can find Kms. 1 & 2.

The road

2006-12-18T14:56:00.000+07:00

Salavan is a province is the southern part of Lao PDR, bordered on the west by the Mekong River, and Thailand wester than that, and bordered on the east by Vietnam. The capital of the province is Salavan Municipality where I live, and there are eight districts, three of which are extremely poor where the daily income of those who can work in a family is less than 1 USD/ day.

During the Vietnam War - or what is known in Lao as the "American War" - bombing raids attempted to cut off the Ho Chi Minh Trail, the main supply route from north Vietnam to positions in the south. People imagined that the HCM Trail was a superhighway through the eastern sections of Lao, but there were really a network of trails, some along existing roads and others just footpaths. Any time B-52s dropped bombs on one section, supplies continued along other trails. Instead of trying to carry supplies on their backs, many of the porters developed unique ways of loading up bicycles and pushing them along the path.

So that's a little about Salavan. The distance between Salavan City and Pakse, the capital of Champassak Province, is 120 kms. One day I'll ride all the way to the end. Some day.

What it is

2006-11-15T19:26:00.000+07:00

Change happens, whether we notice it or not. Sometimes I pass a vacant lot where a building used to stand and I'll wonder "What was there?" For the next two years, I'll be living in a province of the Lao PDR which can grow rapidly, changing rice fields into villages and forests into rubber plantations. At the same time, I've been dealing with diabetes and have to exercise.

I thought it would be interesting to document the kilometer stones between Salavan city and Pakse. This past weekend, I rode up to Km. 20 and returned, hot and dehydrated but decided to make it my goal to go further and further and record the process. Since the km. stones are permanent, I can take pictures at certain areas and see what's different.