This week we have had much less rain, and apart from some impressive lightning last night, no storms. But I can't believe that the rains are gone just yet. The mornings here right now are wonderful. If I get up at 6.30 I can sit out on my balcony with a book and some coffee, until about 8.30 when it starts to get a little too hot for comfort. But the evenings too are a delight...see photo.. and if one can't easily see to read, well, you don't need much light to find your beer bottle or wine glass. Unusually, this morning at 7am it was cool enough for me to have to put on a shirt to sit outside, but it seems generally overcast today so maybe some more rain is on the way.
I have not made much progress with the elephant jaw/skull issue, but am due to meet a couple of French experts next weekend, so the way forward might become clearer then.
Two days ago one of our students arrived with a small gift; a Lao phrase book; ok I can take a hint. When we had a meeting with them 2 weeks ago they were asked if there were any things they wanted...they did not ask for laptops, motorbikes and golden elephants; merely that I learn to speak Lao. Oh dear, golden elephants would have been so much easier to cope with.
This week we had a death in the village, which set me the usual cultural questions. On enquiry it seemed that a small donation ($3 US) towards the funeral expenses was all that was expected from me, initially. That was topped up by a few more $ on day 4, to help keep the food and drink going I assume. Funerals here are really lavish occasions. The deceased lived in just a small rather plain wooden house, so was, I assume, not a man of great wealth or influence. But there was a total of 32 cars, mini buses, tuk tuks, and even 2 coaches lined up to follow the coffin to the pyre.
Yesterday a small orchestra was engaged to play all day, and struck up again at 6am again this morning, but only briefly. Today is day 5, and I think the final day, when the remains are taken to the temple and interred in a stupa, I imagine. I am not getting a clear direction on whether I should attend or not; no doubt whichever option I go for will represent a ghastly cultural gaffe.
On the gender issue which aways come to mind on these occasions, do women command such large funerals? Another one for my notebook I guess. It's occasions like these that give me brief morbid moments; when my time comes to make that journey I imagine I shall be accompanied by the egg lady on her bike and maybe 2 inquisitive school children scattering litter in their wake. Possibly there is a "rent-a-mourner" scheme. I must enquire; one never knows when one's time will come
The sound of a swarm of angry bees this week brought me to the door, to discover a team of 8 novices armed with strimmers cutting the grass on the school field. It had not occurred to me before that the novices were a cheap form of municipal labour. Some of the secondary schools resumed teaching this week. Next week will see "my" school re-opening with a major impact on the amount of litter around my house and no doubt, a similar impact on the state of dental decay among the under 12s in the village.
This week for the first time in months I ate dinner out in a local restaurant. I had quite forgotten how beautiful the city is at night, with light from glowing embers from food stalls, combining with strings of coloured bulbs outside of generally empty restaurants to give a warm and colourful glow. On the subject of lights it has not taken me too long to get intro the usual dispute with a utility company; the electricity supplier. In any minor dispute I have the disadvantage of not knowing the rules or the language, so the trick is to turn that into an advantage.
The man comes round to read the meter, once a month, or maybe once every two months and then demands payment on the spot. Now I can't believe that very homeowner in the village keeps a little tin marked "electricity" saved for whenever the meter man deigns to come round. I refuse on principle ( though its difficult to think exactly what the principle is) to pay him on demand.He gets very frustrated. He can cajole, plead, threaten to his heart's content but I have not the vaguest idea what he is saying, apart from "I want the money now." Nor can he understand my explanation that "I have no cash today but later in the week I will go to the ATM and get some; thank you so much for calling, bye bye." Of course the sums we are talking about are ludicrously small; my July bill was about £3. But I have spent a lifetime arguing with utility companies and somehow it's a hard habit to break.
The £3 includes the cost of lighting our lane; I have 2 external security lights which I keep on all night and which provide the only lighting source for anyone walking or driving up the lane at night; a public service for which I was apparent thanked by an elderly gentleman the other day.
I do pay my water bills promptly as my water comes from my neighbours,and although it is separately metered somehow I don't want to risk any embarrassment to them. Many villagers actually have to use the well, which is not the slightest bit romantic as they have to struggle up to their homes with two 25 litre buckets over their shoulders. The well, though does serve a social function; someone has put a noodle stall there and it acts as a meeting point for villagers and the novices from the adjacent temple, who attend to all their ablutions there.
Although, as reported some weeks ago, the pineapple season is over I continue to get a regular supply direct from the fields. No, I don't have a pineapple lady on a bike; but one of our students goes to his home village each Saturday which takes him via the pineapple fields. The quantity is no longer economical to pick on a regulars basis, but nothing goes to waste here and so he is always able to get one or two. I have not enquired about the details of how he secures them, but his reluctance to accept payment for them is maybe a clue in itself.
Steeleye Span on almost full volume; yes the pink guitarist is back big time ! I have tried Shostakovich and Mahler, and while at fff they can do a decent job in silencing anyone within 15 kilometres, there are too many ppp sections when the ghastly pink sound can permeate my walls and hearing, so its back to folk/rock to preserve my sanity.
Alan
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