luang namtha and muang sing

Luang Namtha is a small town that a lot of travelers use as a base to see the much smaller villages of the local tribes. There are Hmong, Akha, Khmu, Lanten, Luu, Nuea, Zao, Dam, and Therng tribes that have settled in the fertile region. This is probably the broadest specttrum of cultural life in South East Asia. There isn't a lot in the actual town – a big temple complex, a few hotels, a small morning market, a small night market, and a few tour agencies. I think Helen and I were so overwhelmed that we actually forgot to take pictures. There was a gang of Akha village women who met us every morning to sell us their goods. One would sniff out the possibilites then the others would surround us. They were very cute and barely 4 feet tall.

Helen and I were actually passing through Luang Namtha on a mission. Jo Perriera, one of the administrators at COPE, where we've been volunteering in Vientiane, had entrusted Helen and I with the favor of purchasing a bicycle and delivering it to Santar, one of COPE's patients. Santar lives in a villiage that is outside Maung Sing which is a 2 hour blood curdling ride north of where were. Yes, we were in the Asian boondocks. We were in the most forgotten part of a forgotten country. They did, however have a particularily groovy morning market. The unidentifiable substance on the exhaust pipe is actually how they were cooking chicken at the Lao govenment telecom offices.

Finally, the day came for Helen and I to to meet Santar. I had seen his picture many times at COPE and knew his entire story. You should read it too (http://www.copelaos.org/santar.html). We had arranged to meet he and his sister at one of the village restaurants. We were very concerned about communicating so we hired the guy from the bike rental shop who spoke some of the best English I've heard in Lao. Meeting Tong, who owns Tiger Man's Bicycle Rentals, was a blessing. We had originally hired him for 3 hours, but when he found out what we were doing he made himself available for as long as we needed him.

So, we sat in quiet anticipation. Finally they showed up. They sat. We asked questions through Tong. Santar and his sister answered staring into the food they'd ordered because they were too shy to tell us they had already eaten. He told us he didn't think he could ride a bike. He's never tried. Then he stared blankly into his plate like a kid who was being reprimanded for failing a test. This boy was so sad it was painful. We sat in an uncomfortable silence until Helen and I grabbed his little hand and took him to the bike store. We asked him what his favorite color was, he told us, so we found a blue bike. His eyes lit up when he saw it – love! Tong offered to make him a special pedal that would accommodate his prosthesis, but in the meantime we just tied his foot to the bike. Helen, Tong, and I took turns pushing Santar in circles around the shop so he could try pedaling. When it was time to actually purchase the bike, the owners of the bike shop took our money (after jacking the price up - ahem) and we were off. Since I was on the motorbike, Helen rode it to Santar's village. On our arrival, his mother looked on in disbelief at the new two-wheeler. At US$74, the bike equates to over two months of her farming income. Being a widow, she has many mouths to feed from very little. After Santar took great pleasure in ripping off all the plastic and paper packaging that signified its newness, we all took turns pushing him around the large empty family area that we would call a living room. For a kid with one working leg, he figured out the balance quickly. Before we left, I explained to him that many children will tell him he would never be able to ride and that they should take the bike, but that it was his and he could do it if he set his mind to it. I also explained that learning to ride a bike was difficult and he should not expect to master it quickly. Tong, bless his heart, said he'd go out and check on him. Even though he had faced tragedy in his life, Santar projected a quiet dignity that didn't beg for pity. A very admirable trait in a boy of 8 years old.

We had picked up some books at a Lao organization called Big Brother Mouse so we could give them to Santar's school as a birthday donation from my sister and her husband. The protocol is that you always give books, crayons, pens, etc. to the teacher so the kids don't think that every time they see a Westerner they should expect to be given something. The next morning we froze to death as we tried to find our way back to Santar's village without Tong. Eventually we found it and gave the teacher books for the school. It looked like they were enjoying them.

Later that morning, we took the bone crunching ride back to Laung Namtha with a group of Akha villagers who weren't used to being in motor vehicles. They use orange peel to keep the nausea at bay...it didn't work for any of them. Yep, it all got pretty messy.