18 - 19 april 2008

Where are the spirits of our souls?

In Hongsa, a vast village between rice paddies, Jan Vonderstein, a German cyclist, stops us. He helps us to find a guesthouse, which would have been a difficult task without him in the dark.
Thanks to the still going on Phi Mai Festival the village is deserted. Jan tells that even the elephants, which are used for heavy agrarian work and dragging cut trees, have a week off. So all efforts to come here were in vain; no working elephants for us.
But it's is an interesting and gorgeous area with beautiful nature, so no regrets.

Next morning we're both tired when we wake up and urgently have to go to the toilet. Last night's dinner obviously wasn't a good choice.
Still we go for a bicycle trip around the village, hoping to find a wandering elephant somewhere. All roads in the village are unpaved, just like the way we came, and bumping over thousands of little stones we pass the deserted market, cross the river and cycle alongside the old houses. After half a dozen kilometres, just when we are about to give up, we to our surprise nearly ride into an elephant. The pachyderm carries a saddle with a primitive wooden bank to transport people and stands ready for a daytrip through the jungle and rice fields with Paula and daughter India from Australia.
Before they start their outing, the elephant's mahout, mister Peng, has organised a baci. When he sees us he invites us to join the ceremony as well.
The baci ceremony, also called su khwan, is a traditional Laotian ritual, to return the protecting spirits of the guest of honour to him or her.
Lao people believe every human being has 32 ghosts (khwan), who each protect a certain organ and keep the person physically as well as mentally in balance. Unfortunately these spirits often wander away from their host. The baci ceremony is held to bring them back and tie them to their owner again. People perform the ceremony when someone goes on a long journey, is seriously ill or when he or she is about to start a new project. After the ceremony the spirits of the soul are back where they belong, balance has been restored and the person will be a better one.
Mister Peng's house is filled to the brim with people from the village, most of whom are quite old. In the middle of the room sits a low table with attributes necessary to perform the holy ceremony. Among these is the pha khwan, a conically shaped pyramid of banana leafs, flowers and fruits with long cotton threads hanging from it.
The ceremony starts. The Australian guests, the mahout's daughters and we have to sit in a circle and hold the table. The village elder, a man who looks as if he once had Methusalem on his lap, recites a long Buddhist mantra. He calls on the wandering spirits to return to their owners. After the mantra he sprinkles blessed water onto our hands and serves a glass of lao-lao (strong rice wine). The villagers observe amused how we nip from the fire water, curious about the reactions. It is half past ten in the morning, actually a bit early for a stiff drink. Peter takes a brave gulp and says: 'Aaaahh,' while he sticks his fists in the air. They appreciate his gesture and everyone starts laughing. An ancient looking Lao man with only three teeth left in his mouth reaches out for the half empty glass and gives a perfect imitation.
Then pieces of chicken are served, but these are not the tasteful breast parts we like to eat in the west. It looks more like intestines or something. Lao-lao, alright, but this round Peter passes.

The last, and not the least important part of the ceremony starts: the tying of the cotton threads around the guests' wrists. All villagers take some strings and one by one pass by the guests, winding the thread three times around one of their wrists, saying 'away with the evil, back comes the good.' Whilst doing this they intensely look at us and tie knots in the tiny ropes. Tears well up in my eyes. It is not important whether we believe in their traditions or think of it as superstition: the energy and kind wishes we receive from these strangers is pure, unconditional love and a huge present.
After the ceremony our wrists have nearly doubled in size because of all the threads. We have to leave them there for three days for the best result and are only then allowed to untie them.
Paula and India climb on top of the elephant and start their jungle tour, we climb our steel friends and return to our guesthouse.
Nothing can happen to us from now on.
At night Jan cooks a wonderful diner with a lot of vegetables, potatoes and salad. We are not allowed to help him, we are his guests. Paula and India invite us to visit them in Sydney, where they want to teach us how to surf the Australian waves.

It's another day. We leave Hongsa, enriched with a fantastic experience, three new friends and a restored balance.
We cycle back to the Mekong, where the slow boats are the only means of transportation of getting out of this area. The boat is waiting for passengers to Pakbeng, but except for us there's no one. At four o'clock we sit like a prince and princess in the huge boat, with all chairs and benches to choose from.
The boat steers along rapid streams and knife-sharp rocks, which could demolish the wooden frame after a wrong manoevre. And swimming in this part of the river isn't something to look forward to. We pass bamboo and reed villages, bathing water buffalos, fishing men in lean wooden canoes, vegetable gardens and water falls, and see kingfishers searching for their next catch from trees.

Our stomachs start to growl and we dig into our backpack. In Hongsa I bought a portion of sticky rice, for a moment like this. Not very delicious, but healthy and nutritious.
Peter takes a bite and starts chewing Laos' most traditional food. After his third chew he bites into something hard. With his tongue he takes the strange thing out of his mouth and spits it out: it's the temporary crown placed Thailand not four months ago which should last at least half a year, broken in two pieces.
The sticky rice was sticky indeed, but where has the guardian spirit of his teeth gone?