Good Evening PH…
Today was hot, the kind of heat that makes you lazy and slow, and if you stop to rest, getting up again seems almost impossible.
Here in None Hai, there are 3 types of crops that the Hmong peoples like to grow… qos ntooj (Manioc Root), Coix, and Rice. The manioc root and coix seed are considered “cash crops”, which means they are grown to be sold for money only. Rice, on the other hand, is grown for the family and only in very good years that any leftover are sold at the market. Most families will grow either Coix or Manioc root in addition to their rice farms. Some families, typically the larger and more ambitious families will grow all three in a single season. As you can already guess, this is very hard work and everyone must pitch in.
This year, in addition to her rice field, my aunt also grew some manioc roots. There is a modern tapioca factory just north of None Hai that buys the manioc roots. Prices range from 1800 to 2000 kip per kilo, not very much considering how much work was put into it. But in Laos, there are few opportunities to make money, so even backbreaking work is considered a blessing to some. We arrived at her farm in the same “thseb liaj” we used earlier to visit the caves. There were 10 of us in all, if you consider this slightly lazy American as part of the group. We worked from 7 in the morning until about 11, and then rested for a couple of hours to have lunch and escape the midday sun. Around 2, the work begins again and we were done by 5, just as the sun was starting to set in the west. I have never worked so hard in my life, pulling, digging and carrying manioc roots all day long.
Strange as it might sound, I enjoyed the manual labor; I might even go as far as to say I loved it. In my office back in the States, I sit in front of a PC for 8 hours with an hour for lunch in between. My only contact with people is an occasion hi or hello in the hallways, while emails and phone calls are the norm. I have a window that looks into the parking lot, there’s not a blade of grass or a clump of dirt. I can’t tell if it is hot or cold and I can’t smell the fresh air. My feet are never dirty. When I go home, my work comes with me in the pages and texts that I am constantly receiving on my phone. Sometimes, I wonder, who is truly living the good life, them or us?
As soon as we got home, I ran over to visit May. She was getting ready to close up shop and smiled an uneasy smile as she greeted me. She noticed the blisters on my hands and asked how I was doing. I wanted to tell her how much I missed her, but I did not say. She brought me a glass of water and asked if I had eaten…I am not sure is it was just customary or if she really wanted to cook me dinner again. I told her I was not hungry and that I just wanted to see her. She told me she already heard the news that I was heading back to KM52 tomorrow. As she turned away from me, I could the tears trickling down her face. I wanted to hold her, but did not. I am sorry, I said.
We talked all evening, exchanging numbers and pictures. It was late and I said goodnight to May. I promised her I will visit in morning before I leave. So, here I am, sitting on my bed… for the first time in None Hai, I am lonely.
I am not looking forward to tomorrow.
LHG.