Last year, I was sponsored by a clean water company to fly to Laos for a documentary project. For ten days, I journeyed up and down this country of dirt roads and jungles and rice fields, through quiet old villages and ever-growing cities and everything in between. It would be no exaggeration to say that this was one of the most incredible experiences of my life.
My pictures from this project are currently being used by a couple organizations for their promotional and sponsorship material.
Over the next several Fridays, I will be sharing with you some of the stories I experienced in my travels to that beautiful country.
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The day after I arrived in Laos, I was immediately sent off to visit some villages so remote they were only accessible by boat. Through a tunnel. In a freaking mountain. At one point in the past, there had been a road connecting the villages to the rest of civilization, but apparently there was a huge storm and that was the end of that road.
Before I left, I asked my sponsor, “How many days will I be out there?” He responded, “Two days, maybe three days. Be careful of the snakes.”
Great.
Each boat had two guides–one in the front to guide the way with his headlamp, and one in the back to steer. For several kilometers, these headlamps would be the only light in the tunnels. One wrong move, and the boat could be sunk. The scary thing was these lamps aren’t very bright–one of the guides even kept knocking his lamp because his battery was dying. I thought, today is a good day to die.
This is also apparently a popular tourist spot. But other than a single family exiting the river when we arrived (I wasn’t sure if they were expats or tourists), the people milling around were all locals.
Off we go!
Long exposure.
Light! At the end of the tunnel!
Andddd we made it! This is Achiuq, my translator. He speaks Lao, English, Blu (sp?), and I believe a couple other languages.
It was raining by the time we got out of the tunnels. Protect my camera equipment, or keep taking pictures?? This wouldn’t be the last time on the trip that I put my gear at risk.
Once we arrived in the village, we started looking around for the local McDonald’s.
No, just kidding. There are no restaurants, no convenient stores, nada. So everytime we needed to eat, we had to buy food from the locals. And by food, I mean a live chicken.
The guest house we were staying at did not have any electricity, so we had to eat by candlelight. Some of the villagers joined us for dinner, including a handful of the local girls whom my driver sweet-talked into coming.
It looks very “tribal” and “romantic”, right? Okay here’s what actually happened. (Disclaimer: The following probably bears a greater reflection on me as a Westerner rather than the way the Lao people live.)
Before dinner, someone brought out a basin for hand-washing. Oh good, I thought, hygiene is important here too. Then someone else went up to the basin and cleaned his hand in the same water. Then another person. Then another. … And I stood there wondering, where have all these hands been lately?? By the time everybody was finished using the same water, I decided my hands were quite clean after all, and didn’t need to be washed.
We sat around in a circle, eating from a few communal bowls. My neighbor next to me grabbed a handful of sticky rice from the basket. I looked intently at his hands. Were they clean? Did he pick his nose with it? What if he went to the outhouse recently? What if he picked up some germs from that basin of water? Those fingernails look quite dirty!
I decided I was going to grab rice from the other side of the basket. It was a brilliant plan! …. except with each handful of rice, he kept coming closer and closer to my side!! I started swallowing faster.
And then later I found out that they reuse the unfinished rice after every meal, and I had probably been eating rice that had been manhandled by a half dozen people already. With unwashed hands.
Doing the dishes.
Here is the room we slept in. Mosquito nets, and thin mattresses that smelt funny. I tried not to think about the other people who had laid on it, or the rats that had probably ran over it.
When we first got to the guest house, I noticed something lying on the floor. Later on, I asked my translator, is that a decomposing rat?? Yes, he shrugged nonchalantly.
Some pictures need no explanation. This is one of them.
This villager was hired by the government to keep track of statistics in the village and report back regularly. Achiuq later told me the man wouldn’t crack a smile because he wanted to seem important. Looking thug crosses cultural boundaries.
A kitchen in one of the houses.
Green-screened studio pictures FTW!
Even in the middle of nowhere, there’s always satellite tv.
In lieu of running water…
The village’s rice paddies. How would you like your backyard to look like this? :)
My translator Achiuq, my driver Daniel the ladies man, and some random guy.
In the rainy season, it can seem like the entire village was built on a mud plain. Walk anywhere in the village for a minute, and your feet, ankles, and shoes will be entirely caked with mud. Every house had a bucket of water to wash off your feet before entering.
School day’s over!
[ Teaser ]
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by Junshien
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