Post Valentine post

In one of those “It’s not like this in UK” moments, I spent a jolly hour on Thursday afternoon, ‘assisting the police’.  I was invited to join their road block, sit under a Campari-style umbrella and drink Beer Lao with them. One of the 3 gave up his chair for me and sat instead on one of the two empty beer crates. It was 3pm so to have downed 24 bottles already showed a considerable devotion to duty. I asked what they were doing and they said that there was a big party down the road and they were stopping traffic. Ignoring the fact that they were doing no such thing; no vehicle was stopped in the hour I spent with them, I wondered why it would be desirable to have 3 fully trained officers engaged all day in such an activity.  Are there so many police in Laos that this can be regarded as an appropriate activity? One might argue that having vast numbers of police gives jobs to young fit men, who might otherwise follow a life of crime and terrorise innocent individuals, but of course, that is what the police themselves mostly do anyway.

Still, I should not be churlish; they were very agreeable and hospitable and should I be required to spend time with the police at any time in the future I shall hope for similar hospitality. I did think about buying them some beers on my return to the village, but having seen the size of the party (rough head count: 1200 people) I felt that the host could probably afford to keep the police in beer without any small addition from me.

I was on my way into town to refill the cartridge for my photo copier   (It cost about 25, 000 kip last time, say 2 pounds). The shop owner was not there, having as so often, left the shop in the hands of his stupid and insolent wife. She just shrugged her shoulders and handed the cartridge back to me as though I had brought in dogs' droppings. I tried my luck further down the road, and the guy there, although declining to fill the cartridge for me, showed me how to do it and sold me a medical standard syringe and  a 100 ml bottle of ink for 30,000 kip  Since the cartridge holds 10ml, getting 10 refills for about 2pounds 40 seems a pretty good deal. If anyone in UK needs a refill, let me know....but please supply your own syringe as I know that these days we are discouraged from sharing them

The kite flying which seemed to start just by chance last week still grips the village and I wonder if I should in seriousness make some move to promote a Kite Festival. The kids have got them now flying up to some amazing heights. I know nothing about thermals, air currents and things but possibly here on relatively high ground but shielded by higher hills it provides the ideal conditions.   A kite festival would be a much more fruitful event than our  village supposed  ‘festival’ on Saturday, which  I assumed would be  little more than another opportunity to get drunk, play cards and make a dreadful noise and which I was invited to help sponsor...i.e. pay for people to get drunk. I fear that my refusal was not appreciated.  In fact apart from the delivery of a large quantity of beer about 9am, there was no evidence of any festival, just the usual weekend parties.

The rubbish tip has for the moment, at least, been abandoned by the kids as their preferred playground. Whether this is as a result of parental pressure I do not know. Instead my own porch seems to be playground of choice, though it is rather lacking in facilities I would have thought.

In the village of Xieng Nguen, which I visited on Sunday, the steps of the temple provided a more suitable venue for a card school.

I was out visiting the village where I spent Christmas Day, in part taking them the school books which we had promised, and prints of  the photos that we took. The response to the photos was really charming; I suspect that many of the older folk had never owned, nor even possibly  seen a photographic image of themselves before. The  older man who ran the Christmas Day Bacci ceremony had his tucked away in his back pocket, and by the time we left it was already showing considerable signs of wear and tear.

But the real reason for the trip was to show the village off to some visiting American friends, whose older child played the guitar and led an  informal concert in someone’s house which was great fun. Of course, Beer Lao and LaoLao were served in generous measure, and the latter was still being served as we left.

One of our students, who came along, led the village children in singing and dancing games, demonstrating skills which she had not had the opportunity to show us before.

I know I often write about noise, but I thought that silence might be worth a sotto voce mention. Logically silence is just that and you can no more have “almost” or “deep” silence”  than you can be “almost a virgin”  or “very unique”. But somehow there is a wonderful quality about the silence of the early hours here. I can only put it down to the fact that it is so rare, that one notices and appreciates it.  Maybe it’s about 3.30am or so when  I am awakened by the “sounds of silence”,  take out the earplugs and lie there lapping up the quality of the silence, reluctant to go back to sleep and thereby miss it.  It does not last long; the cockerels and the temple soon combine to fill the vacuum that the party goers and the dogs left behind when they decided to turn in. And it’s nice, isn’t it, that moment when you are not quite sure if you are awake or not?  I assume that if I can hear the cockerel then I am awake but if I just won the National Lottery I am asleep.

In fact, on Saturday night I was awoken by a very strange noise. It sounded as though the ceiling fan had switched itself on. I got out of bed to check what it was; it was rain!  It was a very hard shower, the first in many weeks. But it only lasted 5 minutes or so, so barely made impression on the parched ground but did give all the roofs a nice wash down, removing 3 months of accumulated dust and dirt.

No School on Friday; no idea why. There is a small Buddha figure shown on my Electricity Company calendar; maybe that offers a clue?  But perhaps it is merely a warning to get some candles as there may  be a power cut later. The monthly electricity bill arrived a day or two back. I know I had been without electrics for a few days, but I didn’t really feel that 36,000 kip for the month was too bad when I compare it with my bills back in the UK. The water bill did not offer proof of ‘bad people stealing ‘my water; it was 66,000 kip (about 5 pounds), which is rather less then when I had my water pumped in from next door and could not have a shower, had a flush loo.

Happily it is many weeks since I reported on death and disaster. Unhappily that run has come to an end with news, not of a further road traffic accident, but a river one. It appears that one of the small boats ferrying people across the Mekong has overturned. Two women were swept away and their bodies not so far recovered. Right now the river looks like an amiable sleeping giant, but I guess it never sleeps.

On a happier note, of course it has been Valentine's Day and stalls sprang up overnight like mushrooms, selling the most appalling gifts. For me the highlight of the week was the sight of 2 novices buying some plastic roses. Why? For whom?   Clearly my own boyish charms have been eclipsed by the passing years, as I have not had a scent of a plastic bouquet or a cuddle with a pink nylon teddy bear. Oh well.......

As I write this, 4 enormous empty  lorries have parked themselves on the school field right in front of my house;  I wonder why?  They look like cattle transporters; maybe we are going to have a zoo?
Not an abattoir I hope.

All will be revealed next week

Alan