pls note: about to leave for china so this post unfinished, bulk is in note form...sorry...climax is missing...
The hike to the Hmong tribal village of Ban Pha Yong was not particularly strenuous but the air was opaque with smoke from the slash-and-burn agriculture clearings being prepared for the upcoming rainy season, and so humid that by the time I arrived at the house of our host family, every piece of my clothing was drenched with sweat and could be wrung out to produce streams of salty fluid, and if I stood up after sitting, an embarrassingly deep puddle was left behind. All unwaterproofed documents were about to become papier-mache, so I gingerly hung them to dry in a tree.
On the way, we had passed entire scenes in which I could detect no sign of industrialization; houses and fields without so much as a plastic bag or modern T-shirt in sight. Idyllic is the word that fits, although its overuse reduces its sharpness.
We passed a woman spinning silk with an old bamboo loom, a woman distilling homemade whisky from a drum, the distillate dripping down a bamboo stem into a bottle; and an old man gardening in black tribal traditional dress, with cool and stylish 3/4-length traditional black fishermens' trousers and the classic broad conical woven-bamboo rice-field hat. Pink and grey buffalo grazing the fallow, local pig varieties barely bigger than a large cat, and lots of chickens whose plumage was identical to the wild forest Jungle Fowl, the ancestor of all domestic chickens.
(check notebook)
arrival and staring
food and household
the robbery..... and immed aftermath in next chapter with shaman in title...incl cryig, song angry, teams sent out to exits, etc.
the village organizes...with tangents about our excursions, scenes, experiences, the showers,
Walks, incl hunter--crossbow and gun and target practice
Mending the puncture and the baby w scissors, wiping bottom etc.
Watching toddlers w sticks, toddlers falling over, older sisters carryng
The sad story of the boy with the motorbike
CHECK DIARY and notepad
Observations anthropologically/cf conversation w dad/cf Ladakh
The parting dinner on Friday night w formal speeches and kids kept out
inviting us back; lots of apologies. Song and threats of murder and torture!
Teaching English to Ja-the, kids respect of the books, as if never seen before, hand s behind backs
Breastfeeding
Snotty kids
Handwashing
The last breakfast, shaman chant/cell phone of trader fr China
3-4 chickens killed, necks flopping in her hand
Chicken for breakfast, cleansing ritual then blessing ritual
Sacred egg
Women crying, Ja-the sullen
Women accomp to edge of village,
jealousy of female bonding, am I withdrawn/isolating?
Want more imaginative ways of interacting for nexttime...board games, photos, jokes/tricks, etc. Photos of things from my country, counter-development materils!
Bau leads us out under his protection ALL THE WAY to the road!!! Then turns around and goes back with nothing! A good 3 hour trek, jungle like Kaeng KRachan.
Bus stories. Sleeping, faces, deep blackness/capable women, leaning on each other, boy and sister, drunken chap lolling, getting wet together, beautiful women, baby w apparent spots...boy w father, w fever?
No-one smoking, but som LaoLao/beer sometimes, but wise
Food!!! Really good! Sticky rice etc, forest rat, sugar cane, green bananas...
The fishing expedition, fence-mendin, non-verbal communcation working like Ladakh
these people know how to be around each other, know how to livei n communityu
Washing our clothes for us, just becuase: no individualisation of labour
I washed my own dish after noodle soup...must have seemed very strangeindeed
The picknick
The wood-collecting trip, then waterfight w sexy Ong
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