In the Jungle

It's interesting- it was brought up to me that there was a time when we used the word "jungle" to describe what we today call "rainforest." As if to make it less foreboding and more inviting. The former conjures a colonialist view of lands to be explored and conquered; the latter, an inviting place that needs to be preserved, and its peoples respected. No one sells "Jungle Crunch Fair Trade Chocolate" after all.

Well, for a couple days, we went on a jungle/rainforest trek into a remote village, in the National Protected Area on the edge of which was where Kingfisher Ecolodge is located in Lao. We hiked about 5 hrs in, bathed, dined, and slept in the village. Then we came out, walking, and ended up at the river, where we took an easy canoe ride back, stopping by another village for lunch.

I'll never view jungles, or rainforests, or forests, that I might fly over, the same. They're more than just a bunch of trees. For one thing, hidden under that canopy are streams, river beds, hills, ups and down, ditches, all manner of terrain, and you'd never tell by looking at miles of green in front of you. Huge stands of bamboo, strangling figs and other types of trees, palms, bushes, vines that seem to braid themselves, or vines that seem to melt into each other on the tree they've grown, trees with huge shallow roots, like small dikes that we had to step over. At places suddenly there'd be a small clearing, and we could see the sky; other times it was so dark while we had to crouch down below the growth.

I had no idea really what to expect- I thought the village would be in the forest next to a river, and it'd be small and half hidden, dark uder the forest canopy. Instead, it was much like Kiet Ngong, where the eco-lodge is. It was next to rice fields where buffalo are now munching away. There were on flat, dry land, and it seemed tidier than most of Kiet Ngong. Only difference: they didn't have electricity from the grid. Also, there was no monastery, and all the homes were made of rattan, instead of some in concrete or brick as in Kiet Ngong. They only had two machines, running diesel: a rice thresher: pour in raw rice, get out rice grains out of one chute, and hulls out the other.

People seemed a little curious about us, but apparently have hosted a number of visitors in the past, so it wasn't that unusual for them. We saw pigs tied up, raised bed gardens, tons of children running around. No teenagers. I asked S our guide where they were. He said they get married! And they become young adults, young parents. There is no adolescence in village society in Lao!

The bungalow we stayed at was built by funds from the WWF's program to promote eco-tourism in the area. It was located on the edge of the village, a little distant from the others, at the base of a densely forested hill. There are a hand operated well and an outhouse made of concrete nearby, just for the tourist bungalow. The outhouse has two squat toilets and a barrel with water and a plastic bowl in each. Use the water to flush the toilets which I believe drain to a septic tank. They didn't smell- they were quite tidy.

The chores are organized into "groups." And a number of families belong to each group, rotating through there choices. There's a "get the water and clean up the toilet" group; a "get the beddings out" group; a cooking group, a guide group (providing the forest guides who told us about forest products they harvested, and perhaps others. Families rotate through the chores, each earning their share of the fees collected from the tourists.

I kept asking S about their cell phone- surely they must have one to be alerted of a new arrivals. He said no. They just get going as soon as they hear of a groups coming in. And it's possible that S and other guides give them an idea of the upcoming load.

The bungalow was comfortable. Mattresses with a decent duvet, under mosquito netting, were set up for us. Boiled water was brought in. There was information on how the chores worked, and how the fees broke down (but not detail on whether the cooking group made more money than the beddings group). And dos and don'ts in the village: like wear clothes, no nude bathing in the open, don't touch people's heads, and keep feet away, ask before taking photos, and yet don't be afraid to come out: you're welcome to visit the village.

We had dinner in a hut with the village chief, a young looking man with a slightly receding hairline. Like many Lao he didn't stand very tall, shorter than me. He was unassuming. I don't know where Hollywood got these ideas about the big village chief with animal bones sticking through his nose and a spear at his side. The village chiefs I met were the most unassuming men you could meet. There wasn't any lighting save small lamps that ran on diesel fuel. P-U is right. Otherwise it was dark, and noisy: people cooking, chitchatting. A., M's wife (at Kingfisher), once told me that with the arrival of electricity and thus TV, she heard less lovemaking at night in their village; or perhaps it was drowned out by the noise of Thai music videos.

We asked the chief about the school, about how long it took to get to town, about who was the oldest in the village, and how the village came here. It was founded in the mid-20th c., and they came, by foot, from the mountainous Boloven Plateau, to the east, if I recall. We asked him what was the most difficult thing to do as village chief. He said it was to get families to keep the guest bungalow kept up: greenery chopped away, etc.

Dinner was simple, but copious. They had many small bowls out, and about 3 things: scrambled egg,

That night was movie night. I think they were watching a Chinese movie. The whole village gathered around a 20" TV and its DVD player fired up by the diesel generator. It was a hit. We heard lots of laughing. It died down by 10pm and the village grew quiet.

The stars were amazing that night. As I'd been able to see often while there, the Milky Way was visible, arching above the monkey-pod like trees and tall bamboo. I had often seen such stars in the cold of the Sierras, but to see them in a warm, lush place was really remarkable.