A year ago we made our first visit to SE Asia and our itinerary included a few days in Luang Prabang during which time as many tourists do, we engaged in conversation with a novice monk. We swapped email addresses (which we've since read you shouldn't do) and joked that no doubt in 5 years time we'd get a 'remember me' email and will you pay my university fees. Wrong! We hadn't even returned to the UK and in came the first email asking if we could send money for his English classes. This induced slight cynicism and worry whether his request was genuine, or indeed was he genuine or just a young boy parading in monks robes (well you do hear of such things). We set about scanning the Internet for any similar stories and whilst doing so came across the LEOT website.
Over the past year through a myriad of emails, Alan and Teng have not only been kind enough to meet Fan on several occasions but have given us wonderful unconditional guidance and mentoring on the Fan front and in light of that we have just returned from Luang Prabang where we visited Fan and confirm our commitment to him.
We spent a wonderful and very interesting couple of weeks in Laos. Whilst in Vientiane we were fortunate to meet Teng - what a charming and intelligent young man and obviously a huge asset to LEOT as it's Homeland Director. In Luang Prabang after months of emailing we met Mr letterfromlaos himself and shared a few beers, of course! And got to know young Fan better.
Arriving at Fan's temple Xieng Mouane we felt such excitement. He greeted us at the doorway of his wooden sleeping dormitory with a huge beaming smile but then gestured we stay at the bottom of the steps whereupon he disappeared. Hmm, obviously we're not allowed to be invited in. It rapidly became apparent he needed to tidy his room! Well he is a 15 year old boy after all. His room is about 8' x 6' which he shares with another novice. The walls and ceiling are lined with newspaper - probably of no significance other than to help cover the cracks. Their orange robes, mosquito nets, towels and a couple of umbrellas adorn the walls. Fans school books are piled up on a table at the end, upon which sits the secondhand mobile phone we had sent him - his pride and joy.
After months and months of being email pals ones natural instinct is to give the boy who calls you Mother Debbie a big hug but as I'm a woman it's not even permissible to touch his robes (all our photos have a seemingly huge gap between us!). David sat on the bed next to him, I was directed to sit on the floor as women need to be lower than a monk wherever possible. We chatted a while trying to take in that this is a real person and not just an email signed Fan.
Being from a very poor village his family arranged he be sent away three years ago to a temple in the hope he’d have a better life and receive secondary education not available at home.
His village Khon Kheung is only accessible by boat but undeterred and with help from a local guide we travelled by road 4-5 hrs north of Luang Prabang to Nong Khiaw, then took a boat downstream for a further hour.
An early start was required for this very important day. Our guide hired a good boat, about 40ft long with chairs you would usually find on a bus - looked so odd but much more comfy than the usual hard wooden ones. We couldn't leave until daylight as water levels are low at this time of year and rocks and rapids need negotiating at almost every bend in the river.
We arrived at a steep muddy bank at the expected time and there wasn't a soul around. Were we at the right village? Nevertheless we climbed up through the empty stalls which once a week becomes a busy market. And then at the top we saw a smiling Fan in his clean bright orange robes (goodness knows how he keeps them so clean with all that mud) We followed him in silence and at a distance through the village of around 100 stilted huts. It's primarily a Khmu tribe village we think (still checking that one out)
As we walked up and down the red muddy banks, excited primary school children joined the pied piper trail; some of the small ones stared warily, presumably they rarely see white people or strangers in their village.
The village houses are made from Bamboo and woven banana leaves. We climbed the steep wooden stairs (without handrail) of his mother's house, removed our extremely muddy shoes and walked in to the open space. One corner was partitioned off with mosquito netting as the sleeping area. Large rice sacks, pots and pans and wicker baskets piled up in the other. On the floor lay various mats of cotton and rattan. There is no electricity in the village other than the small amount made from an extraordinary contraption of sticks and a dynamo on the river. It's obviously very effective. Fan was taking photos with his mobile and it said low battery. We were astounded when 1/2 an hour later his young brother returned it to him fully charged!
We had brought a few gifts - apples and some coffee for his mother, a teddy bear for his young sister SauUn and a bundle of exercise books, pens and pencils for the school. Bearing in mind each family has on average anything from 5-10 children I dont think we brought enough!
In our honour Fan was arranging a Baci Ceremony for us. Baci is an animist ritual used to celebrate important events and occasions like births and marriages, entering the monkhood, departing, returning, beginning a new year, and welcoming or bidding etc. The ritual of the baci involves tying of strings around a person’s wrist to preserve good luck. The belief is the body has 32 organ spirits and it is best to keep as many of them as possible in the body at one time so the ceremony is to call back any that might have wandered off. These strings must be left on the wrist for 3 days and then either untied or left to fall off but they mustn't be cut. We're currently walking around with very tatty dangly strings on our wrists but feeling very safe!
Over the next hour people came and went to see what and who we were. A man in his late 20's remained at the head of the circle that had now formed - he's the chief of the village which surprised us as we'd expected the chief to be much older. Chiefs are elected by the villagers but the government now encourages younger men for nomination as they are better educated. Not sure women get a look in - they'd no doubt be too busy doing all the work anyway! Once seated Fan handed David a bag of sweets and every time a visitor arrived he prompted David to hand them a sweet, except for one particular lady who Fan clearly didn't want to have one - we've no idea who she was but guessed she might be the woman his father has recently left his mother for as they're all living in the same village - tricky situation.
There was a short lull in the proceedings and a slightly uncomfortable silence until the same people we'd seen earlier started to return, carrying baskets of sticky rice, steaming chicken and beer bottles, one of which which we later learned contained Lao Lao (strong rice wine). Because Fan is a monk he is much respected by all and therefore allowed to just sit, smiling with pride and gently commanding the scene.
We watched as his mother took a gold coloured bowl from a large wooden sideboard that looked remarkably out of place. She filled the bowl with rice that supported a centre decoration and candles. This was then placed on a round silver table and put in the centre of the room. The whole thing is called a pah kwan. The women deftly made table decorations from banana leaves to go around it. The Baci Ceremony was ready to begin.
There must have been over 20 villagers in this small home. All those seated round the table, ourselves included, put their hands on the table face down, singing commenced and then the ceremony seemed to proceed quite rapidly with some definite chanting. David and I were directed to hold our hands in the air whilst each person in a scramble tied a white piece of string on each wrist. We probably had around 10 on each one by the end. Finally the hands were placed back on the table facing upwards followed by a bit more chanting. Fan's father then poured us and the chief some Lao Lao which had to be downed in one followed by a couple more top ups! We were then handed a piece of chicken and sticky rice and with the official part over everyone tucked into the food, Lao Lao and beer. Fan being a monk was served and sat separately.
I noticed the women had gravitated to their own circle so it seemed polite I should move to theirs. They laughed a lot at this so I have to assume it was the right thing to do. Drinking is rapid and very ordered. They have one glass in which they pour a couple of inches of beer. The first person drinks it, amusingly leaving a drop in the bottom which they pour onto the floor, to clean away their germs on the glass?! It's passed to the next person in a clockwise direction and so on. Every time it got to me they poured double the amount - either because I was a guest or they were trying to get me drunk!
Travelling downstream was interesting in itself, despite the fact we were freezing - we passed groups of villagers panning for gold (gosh that's back-breaking work), collecting river weed, feeding their pigs on the beach, washing and bathing at the rivers edge and of course lots of fishermen.
It's clear Fan's moving to Luang Prabang is giving him a much better chance in life and of achieving his aspirations, and indeed enabling him to have some. He's a bright, hard-working and mature boy and we are very pleased we can offer the finance to push his education on a notch. We were also thrilled to hear this week that subject to board approval LEOT will officially take Fan to be one of their students from the next scholastic year, by which time he will be 16.
We've promised Fan we'll return to Luang Prabang in a year's time.
Editor's note...Debbie has asked me to explain than in fact, the tossing of some of the drinks on the floor was less to do with hygiene than with appeasing the spirits, who like to share in any festivities..and its usually a good idea to keep them on side.
A
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