Monthly Archives: April 2012

Meet Chola & Her Family

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Meet Chola & Her Family

It always happens.  Just when we have maxed our budget for a village, someone else shows up with a beautiful textile.

Chola modeling the butterfly scarves woven by her daughter that we bought the first time we met her.

Chola modeling the butterfly scarves woven by her daughter that we bought the first time we met her.

We first met the woman we have nicknamed “the ghop lady” – the frog lady – on our second trip to her town in  Houaphon Province in NE Laos.  We had packed our gear and purchases, and were about to leave town to head to the border with Vietnam, hoping to cross and find a ride to Hanoi that same day if possible.  We were sitting on the bench outside our guest house, putting on our shoes, when a woman showed up with some beautiful scarves.  With our very last few kip (Laos money) we purchased four scarves from her; two with butterflies, and two with a very traditional flower pattern and stylized frogs, or “ghop” in the Lao language; thus her nickname.

We came back to her town on our next trip, having sold three of her four textiles, and looking for more.  This time, we showed photos of her we’d taken the previous visit (and you thought this was only for our customers!) to people in the market, asking if she had a stall in the market or a home nearby.  No one is a stranger in these small towns, and soon we were knocking on her door and calling “sabaidee”.  Unfortunately, she was out of town, in the capital of Vientiane, selling her textiles to the market vendors – we had missed her!

Chola’s son modeling the rat design door curtain he wove.

Chola’s son modeling the rat design door curtain he wove.

On the next trip 6 months later, she was home and recognized us.  She cheerfully invited us into her home where we were seated on handwoven floor-pillows, brought glasses of water, and a plate of local jicama and oranges to munch on while viewing textiles.  While she went upstairs to get bags of textiles (literally – large plastic garbage can liners), her 8-year-old son sat shyly in the corner watching us.  Chola put the fans on “high” to keep the sweating to a minimum (hah!), and we started unfolding her offerings:  beautiful shawls, narrow scarves, and even some pieces she had made as part of her wedding linens (just to show off as these were not for sale!).  One of her older pieces was a delicately woven mosquito net made of a silk patterned band as long as a bed is around from which handspun, handwoven, indigo-dyed cotton was suspended both across the top and down the sides to reach to the floor – this provides not only bug protection, but also privacy given that all family members traditionally sleep in one room.  She also showed us a beautiful door curtain, hung in place of an inside house door, that was silk on cotton.  She is keeping these pieces for herself, and maybe for her daughter to inherit.  To see such treasured pieces is a treat!

Chola and her daughter taking the butterfly scarves off of the loom for us.

Chola and her daughter taking the butterfly scarves off of the loom for us.

One of the pieces she brought out of the bag was a door curtain with a repeated  rat pattern.  I fell in love with it and asked if she made it.  She motioned to her son to come over, and said he had woven it when he was 7 years old.  He was now embarrased to have woven it because, at the ripe old age of 8, he now thought of weaving as something women did, not boys.  Despite his embarrasment, we took a photo of him displaying the piece.  It is now one of my treasures!  While we have found similar rat door curtains, this is the only one woven by him.

The following season when we visited, we found Chola and her daughter out on the cement patio in front of their home; her 14-year old daughter was weaving on one of the two looms set up under a metal roof.  And the daughter was weaving those exact butterfly scarves!  We indicated that we would like to buy some, and they meticulously unwrapped the already woven scarves and cut them off of the loom, the daughter beaming shyly, but proudly, the whole time.  Zall (also 14!) took photos of the butterfly scarves coming off of the loom.  The daughter also wove narrow scarves with love birds on them – we couldn’t resist those either!

Chola modeling her “story cloth” woven of naturally dyed local silk.

Chola modeling her “story cloth” woven of naturally dyed local silk.

The trip when Grandma came with us, we didn’t manage to visit until night was falling.  Unfortunately, it was a night without electricity (not that uncommon in this region), and we made our selections by candlelight and flashlight!  We often end up choosing textiles by the light of (I swear!) a 15 watt light bulb, but trying to make selections with a single candle’s glow was a new one even for us.  Knowing the quality of the weaver’s goods makes a big difference under these circumstances.  We did go back the next morning to pick up the scarves, as several of them needed to have the fringes braided.  We also selected a couple more of her cheerful silks – the ones that haunted us overnight – all the while asking about the patterns and techniques.  We have to acknowledge none of this conversation on this visit would have been possible without our good friend Mai, who grew up in Chola’s village but left after high school with a rare opportunity to attend college, learn English, and develop a professional career.

We usually have a translator with us on our visits to this village, but not always.  Half of our conversations with Chola are a combination of sign language, Maren’s very limited Lao skills, a calculator, and constant laughter at our sometimes fruitless efforts to clearly communicate.  The blend of translated and non-translated communication is part of what makes these relationships so fun!

Chola and her daughter are now regular artists represented by Above The Fray.  We always visit her when we go to that village, and hope that she is there.  We have tried to call her in advance, through a friend and translator, but her phone never seems to work.  It is just the luck of the draw if she is there and has textiles for us.  Part of the adventure!

Inspired Moments That, As Yet, Go Nowhere – by Zall, age 15

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Inspired Moments That, As Yet, Go Nowhere –  by Zall, age 15

Cultural oddities and strange experiences:  that seems to be the goal in much of our travels. Interesting and eccentric encounters.  The truth is, we encounter situations almost daily which don’t quite make sense or seem outrageously odd. Here are a couple of inexplicable and peculiar moments that aren’t full stories in and of themselves, but somehow stick in my mind as potentially valuable lessons to problems that I have yet to encounter.

Zall, with a quizzical look, hard at work in Vietnam last year.

Zall, with a quizzical look, hard at work in Vietnam last year.

We were in a medium-sized town in Vietnam with seemingly nothing happening at all.  No people walking by, no kids playing in the fields, just flat concrete and dirt. It was the only village for quite some time, so we stopped to have lunch. Our family piled out of the van we were renting and sat in a small shop advertising pho (noodle soup) and other various local dishes. The shop had tile floors and a small group of guys were playing a card game in the corner and drinking beer. Being a long ride, I immediately went to the bathroom. Upon my return, the steaming pots of soup and a big plate of leafy vegetables that the family had ordered had already arrived and I sat down in front of my designated bowl. A man from the poker table walked over to where we sat and began speaking in a language far beyond our comprehension. He then sat next to me and put his arm over my shoulders – a friendly gesture in that area. But what happened next has perplexed me ever since. He leaned over towards the top of my head, his face flushed from the beer that I could smell on him. The cigarette between his lips dipped precariously towards my face, and he proceeded to smell my hair. Yes, smell my hair. He bent my head a bit sideways, stuck his nose right onto my scalp, and took in a big whiff.  He then looked at me with what I imagined to be an approving look, and with a smile and nod he walked back to his gang of card players. They all laughed and the meal went on like usual. I just sat there with a confused look on my face and laughed.  What was that all about?

At the restaurant, with the card players looking at us from the corner. Smells good!

At the restaurant, with the card players looking at us from the corner. Smells good!

Going through borders in foreign countries can be rather strenuous. On my last trip through Asia, between the Vietnamese and Lao border, the border official ordered all of our bags to be searched. This isn’t uncommon as we are a bit unusual in the territory, but nevertheless slightly aggravating. We sighed and unstrapped all of our 8 bags – we’d done quite the recent shop – off the top of the bus. The officials went through everything until they hit the bag of medicine and toiletries. One of them then picked up a rectangular cardboard box and look at us mysteriously. He opened it and found a stack of wrapped paper cylinders within. He pulled one out and smelled it, like it might be a fine cigar.

An utterly absurd “only Zall” moment - riding a tricycle cart downstairs at one of our homestays - if he could have brought it home, he would have! Notice his ever-present camera.

An utterly absurd “only Zall” moment – riding a tricycle cart downstairs at one of our homestays – if he could have brought it home, he would have! Notice his ever-present camera.

My mom was trying to best explain that the object he had chosen to question was a western-style tampon (they are not available in Laos) without embarrassing the guard – never a good idea with a police or military officer.  The questioning guard didn’t seem to understand English and we figured that hand signals would be inappropriate to use at the moment. My mom tried to explain that it was one of those “woman’s things,” but no one understood. Then guard then attempted to use sign language to ask if it contained something smokable, and he stuck the tampon between two fingers and pretended to smoke it. My dad then joined the conversation, shaking his head vigorously and continuing to search for simple words to explain.  Dad looked like he was working hard to suppress a laugh.  Another Vietnamese patrol officer then came up to the guard and said something to him. The guards expression tightened; he then shook his head and waved us through. To this day, I have no idea what was said or what the guard assumed, but we were quickly ushered through the border and into Vietnam with all our gear, including our “cigars.”

What our gear looks like when crossing a border. Here, in the border town of Na Meo, Vietnam, Dad and Grandma patiently (!) wait to move onward. Anyone going east? Something always works out.

What our gear looks like when crossing a border. Here, in the border town of Na Meo, Vietnam, Dad and Grandma patiently (!) wait to move onward. Anyone going east? Something always works out.

MAG Helps Civilians Reclaim Their Fields in Vietnam

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MAG Helps Civilians Reclaim Their Fields in Vietnam

MAG (Mines Advisory Group), a non-political Nobel-Prize winning organization, has been clearing unexploded ordnance left from the Vietnam War (what SE Asians call the “American War”) for a dozen years.  Since the cessation of hostilities in 1974, more than 100,000 innocent Vietnamese people, about half of whom are children, have been killed or injured by leftover bomblets (small cluster bombs spread by the hundreds by larger casing-shells that “carpet-bomb” acres at a time).   About 30% of these bomblets (some 30,000,000 bomblets!) did not explode upon impact and now lay dormant in the soil – until they are hit by a plow or found by a metal recycler, or a child.  In small Quang Nam Province alone, over 1,000 people have been killed or maimed since 2004 by these bomblets.  The innocent lives lost, the real impact on how one can farm or develop, and the pervasive fear that permeates daily family life are all unintended consequences of decisions made two generations ago.

A MAG team digs for a metal item that set off the metal detector in a gridded field next to a village as a child passes by.

A MAG team digs for a metal item that set off the metal detector in a gridded field next to a village as a child passes by.

Clearing farmland to increase field-size, putting in a new water line, excavating to build a home or road or school – these desired community improvements are made far more complicated because of the risk to life and machinery.  Such dangers significantly impact daily life and economic progress in much of Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos.

Clearing the UXOs is dangerous, tedious and expensive.  Metal detector-trained technicians (with two on-site medical personnel per team – in case one is injured) are required to search every square foot of soil with detectors – up to 10 meters deep, thanks to soft soils and wartime cratering.  The cost for such clearance is well beyond what any village can afford – thousands of dollars per acre.  Organization like MAG are essential for training, organizing and clearing, as well as educating locals about what to do when such an object is found (kids are particularly attracted to some of the small, colorful, ball-shaped explosives).  In the twelve years that MAG has been involved in Vietnam, they have cleared over 167,000 UXOs, 2500 land mines, and decontaminated 7.5 square km of land for farms and development. At that rate, it will still take over 100 years to complete the task.

Learn more about MAG’s Vietnam effort in MAG’s Spring newsletter, found at: www.maginternational.org/silo/files/spring-2012-newsletter–focus-on-vietnam.pdf

Information about MAG’s efforts around the world can be found at: www.maginternational.org.  Donations, of course, are tax-deductible.

An Amazing Talent Now Outlets in America!

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An Amazing Talent Now Outlets in America!

In Houaphon Province’s small provincial capital of Xam Neua (Laos), way on the eastern edge of town where the main road ends, past the Buddhist stupa and around the corner on a small side street, sits a modest cement-block home and workshop of a most extraordinary weaver.  [We’ll refrain from naming her as we do not have her permission to do so.]

The master dyer and designer showing one of her new shawls.

The master dyer and designer showing one of her new shawls.

In 2006, on our first visit to Xam Neua (before Above the Fray), the local tourist office had casually recommended we visit her modest workshop.  We did not have a translator but felt confident with our Lao-English dictionary and the calculator to see what she had to offer.  She greeted us politely, indicated she knew no English, and invited into to sit down on an old couch.  Glasses of water appeared, and then this woman brought out some textiles she had designed and made; our jaws dropped on the floor.

A subtle modernist, she takes the traditional motifs of her Tai Daeng culture and creates her own private line of unique, exquisite silk scarves and shawls.  Her motifs and designs are deceptively simple and elegant, and tend to avoid the more traditional complex geometric play.  Her use of rich hues and buoyant color-play, all created using natural dyes, allow the energy of her silks to jump right off the shimmering textile and dance.  She uses only the finest, thinnest quality of silk thread, and doesn’t fear bold, sharp images; the weaving quality is flawless.

One of the traditional sets of motifs used by this designer in her shawls. This shows a “siho,” or mythological elephant lion, which represents both political and fierce fighting strength; on its back is an ancestor spirit, who helps guide the shaman to the ancestor world to seek help; a “hong” bird, perched to the left, symbolizes male energy. Various flowers, and a spirit tree grow by the siho’s trunk.

One of the traditional sets of motifs used by this designer in her shawls. This shows a “siho,” or mythological elephant lion, which represents both political and fierce fighting strength; on its back is an ancestor spirit, who helps guide the shaman to the ancestor world to seek help; a “hong” bird, perched to the left, symbolizes male energy. Various flowers, and a spirit tree grow by the siho’s trunk.

One of the young weavers modeling a shawl she just wove (note untwisted fringes) standing in front of finished shawls from the weaving works.

One of the young weavers modeling a shawl she just wove (note untwisted fringes) standing in front of finished shawls from the weaving works.

A weaver at work creating another masterpiece. All of the dyes are made from natural materials, even the bright turquoise on the shuttle she is using for the weft on this golden shawl!

A weaver at work creating another masterpiece. All of the dyes are made from natural materials, even the bright turquoise on the shuttle she is using for the weft on this golden shawl!

She manages a small roomful of younger weavers who operate hand-made wooden looms using the supplemental weft technique.  We imagined her to be a tyrant of a boss – how else could her textiles be so unusually error-free?  But no.  On our several visits (now with translators) we hear nothing but giggles and chat as the young women slide their shuttles back and forth on the nine wooden, hand-made looms that sit in the adjacent room.  They quickly get studious when we walk in to admire their creations (and snap a few pictures); the moment we leave, their casual and cheerful banter returns.

On our last visit in 2011, she confessed that the dozen or so pieces we usually purchase from her represent her only regular sales outlet – save one.  Yes, she admitted, except for the rare one-time visitors (like us on our first visit), she sells exclusively through a select silk boutique in Singapore.  Apparently, the Singaporean contact will take every piece she and her small team can create.

“You are my only other regular customer,” she tells us through our translator.  Her eyes brighten.  “My special American boutique customer!”

A half-finished shawl on the loom - this weaver was too shy for a photo!

A half-finished shawl on the loom – this weaver was too shy for a photo!