Laos Part 3-Haiter

When I was planning the trip to Laos I was advised that I would need security for the trip to Haiter, but not to worry because it would be arranged by the villagers in Ban Nadi. Accordingly, I had left it to my interpreter to arrange and concerned myself with other logistical and technical issues. I retrospect I realize that I didn’t know what I to expect in terms of security at the time, but I do know that I was not expecting what showed up. Our muscle for the trip was four guys, probably about 18-20 years old, each toting ancient Chinese-made machine guns. They didn’t look particularly menacing, but they did look careless, and they spoke no English. It was not a comfortable feeling.

The team I was responsible for had swelled to thirteen people at this point, including two drivers that and our newly acquired muscle. We drove about 20 minutes south out of Ban Nadi until the the road ended. I instructed the drivers to meet us back there in two days' time. The drivers departed and I briefed the team on our objectives and on my expectations as far as safety was concerned. They guys packing the heat seemed to pay attention, but I was still nervous as we set off into the bush.

It turned out I had little reason to be concerned. Apart from wandering off the trail at times (I think in an attempt to find bush meat) and leaving the slower people behind, they were model team members. They were clearly not acquainted with the finer points of weapons safety but they walked with the safeties on and mostly avoided pointing their weapons at other people. Under the circumstances I couldn’t have reasonably expected better.

The walk was mostly downhill but through many twists an turns and several short steep inclines that required scrambling on all fours. The further down we went the hotter and more humid it got. It was tough going . By the time we stopped for lunch we had gotten through most of our water and we weren’t even halfway to Haiter. I filtered water from a nearby stream while the rest of the team prepared lunch. When I got back the muscle had made mats of banana leaves and laid the food out on them. Everything was left over and cold, but we were hungry and didn’t care. As I was serving myself some rice I noticed the regional power agency representative to my left gnawing on something odd-looking. I realized it was rooster’s head. He had fished it out of soup bowl and was chewing the comb off the top of the head. I looked down at the banana leaf where what used to be two chicken’s feet lay in front of him. He had stripped the skin off the feet, sucked the connective tissue out of the joints, and I’m not sure but it looked like he might have gnawed on one of the spurs for a while before giving up.

This experience illustrates the Lao attitude on food. I was ready for all sorts of weird gastronomic experiences and was fully prepared to be asked to eat things I wouldn’t feed to my dogs back home. But I had always assumed that this was because that type of food was all that was available. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It’s not an issue of not being able to obtain or afford “good” food; everything on the leaves that day was free to the chicken head-eating government official. It wasn’t a matter of his being poor and therefore accustomed to sub-standard food either, because he was a relatively high ranking government official with a reasonably comfortable salary by Lao standards. There was plenty of “good” food available to this guy, but he was eating rooster combs and chicken gristle because he wanted to eat it. I don’t know about the rest of Asia but in Laos eating weird things isn’t a matter of survival, it’s a matter of tradition and preference.

They don’t waste much at all, but it’s not like they polish their plates at every meal either. In fact there were leftovers at every meal while I was in the countryside but they just re-serve uneaten food at the following meals until it’s eaten. What little material they consider unfit for human consumption they recycle as animal feed. I can’t recall seeing anything thrown away while I was there, but the Lao do not permit frugality to dominate their approach to food. They’ve worked out a system that is efficient without being draconian. My only advice to Western travelers in the Lao bush is to bring an open mind, plenty of snacks, and Immodium.

The trail to Haiter got steeper the closer we got. We walked around large patches of forest that the locals were burning to make way for new rice fields this season. When we finally got there, Haiter turned out to be far and away the most primitive place I saw in Laos. The only sources of domestic water were the Nam Sanh and an open bamboo pipe running down from the mountain. There were no toilet facilities at all, not even a designated latrine area, so you had to watch your step because of human and animal waste alike. We stayed with the village chief and his family as we had in Ban Nadi. His house was on stilts like the ones in Ban Nadi, which kept the living quarters out of the dust and filth from the free roaming livestock on the ground level. However, almost half the houses in the village were built on the ground and had dirt floors. There was no way to keep contaminated runoff out of these dwellings. Some of the women walked around half naked, and several children had not a stitch on. It was like something out of National Geographic. Thankfully we had no problems out of the Hmongs, but we got some pretty piercing stares from some of the residents. I found myself glad to have the muscle with us, and was relieved when we hiked out the next morning.

The way out of Haiter was just about all straight uphill. We took frequent breaks which afforded the locals in the team plenty of time to forage in the bushes. By the time we got back to the pick-up point they had filled 3 plastic bags full of edible flowers, and had snacked liberally on other fruits and berries along the way. They had also picked up some traditional medicinal plants with the aim of selling them later. Thankfully the trip finished without incident and we arrived back in Ban Nadi in time for dinner, which consisted of sticky rice and steamed flowers. The next day we would be leaving for good, so I really took time to enjoy the company of the chief and his family. They had shown us great hospitality over the preceding week, and I was a little sad to pack up my things and leave the next morning.

Photos:

1. The trail to Haiter.

2. A Lao-style trail lunch, and the site of the rooster head-chewing incident.

3. Overlooking the Nam Sane valley near Haiter. The haze is from deliberately set forest fires burning off camera to the right, below us.

4. Identifying fish caught by the locals for us in Haiter. After we identified them they were quickly cooked and eaten.