One thong and a bag of lemons

Images from MAG's programme in Lao PDR – the most bombed country in the world per capita

By Gregory Cathcart, MAG Lao PDR Programme Officer

I pulled my life jacket tighter, covered my head with my hands and ducked in anticipation of the overhanging bamboo that was coming up all too fast. Bringing my head down I noticed that the low, narrow fishing boat was taking on water…


	The boat. Before. (I'm at the front!)

	Someone yelled “Go!” as water started to pour into the boat. Some people jumped out and swam to shore...

	The car. Safety!

	Tha Thom. Twenty-five per cent of all villages in Lao PDR areas affected by unexploded ordnance – which includes big bombs, mortar, cluster munitions and submunitions, and landmines. Ten provinces in the country are still severely contaminated by these unexploded weapons, which continue to kill and maim innocent people, as well as disrupting socio-economic development.

I have to say that my daily work – as a basically desk-bound Programme Officer – is not the most exciting within MAG. The position does not involve the tension of checking a bomb fuse, the rush of setting up explosives, or the ear blast from blowing things up.

It was therefore with some excitement that I accepted an invitation to travel to the remote area of Tha Thom district in Xieng Khouang province to participate in a three-day workshop on the proposed construction of irrigation canals. These canals would provide more than 100 extra hectares of land for growing rice and other crops, and benefit 15 communities, but the land must first be cleared of unexploded ordnance – UXO.

The trip there involved a six-hour drive through beautiful valleys and around soaring peaks.

During breaks in the workshop we would take time to marvel at the limestone karsts erupting out of the landscape around the main town, and afterwards spend our evenings walking along the river. The first day, we found 15 items of UXO piled near the swelling river, apparently in an effort to hide them out of the way of children and houses.

Later, we would wander up to a series of small restaurants where we ordered Lao soups full of fresh vegetables and herbs. While we ate we would swap stories of life and wait while the daily wet season rains washed over the roof.

It was with some trepidation that we then heard that the daily rains we had been enjoying had taken out part of the road downstream. To return, we would need to undertake a five-hour boat ride in a traditional Lao fishing boat before rejoining the road for the three-hour car trip to Vientiane.

We nervously packed our bags, computers, LCD projector and luggage into the boat. Two kilos of a type of lemon that can only be found in the district were also carefully stowed.

It wasn’t long before the captain had the boat rocketing along with the aid of a 20 horsepower motor and the river’s strong current. We had only been going five minutes when the boatman, after negotiating some rather testing rapids, moored the boat to the bank and ran ahead to check the safety of proceeding any further. The river had broken its banks and had now spread out across a valley, its waters full of debris running through trees and scrub, around fence posts and bamboo thickets.

Convinced that his craft could make it, he jumped in and, while we could hear the rush of the rapids in front of us, he led us gently across a patch of eerily still water.

Once we entered the rapids the trees seemed to jump from the bank straight into the boat. “Duck – thorns!” I yelled as we hurtled under a tree. Lifting my head I saw the bamboo and vine thicket approaching, “Left, left” people yelled in both Lao and English. I tried to push the boat away from the bamboo, the boat turned to the left only to be greeted by another thicket, blocking the way in front of us. There was no way through. The boat could not negotiate the river in such a torrent.

The captain was quick to react. He rammed the boat onto the nearest bit of land, the current of the river spinning the boat around before jarring it against a tree. Someone yelled “Go!” as water started to pour into the boat. Some people jumped out and swam to shore.

I opted to run down the length of the sinking boat and jump onto the bank. As I landed something sharp cut my foot. I grimaced. As an Australian, I should have known better than to leave my thongs [flip flops] in the boat.

“Computers!” a colleague yelled as he climbed back into the half-submerged boat again and began throwing bags. A conga line was quickly formed and the wet luggage, papers, and proposals were stored from the rain under a quickly arranged tarp.

The captain busied himself trying to find the boat’s outboard motor, that was now lying on the riverbed. He came up proudly brandishing one thong and a bag of lemons, before going down under the water again.

The three-day project planning workshop involved MAG’s partners Concern Worldwide and Welt Hunger Hilfe, plus representatives from local communities.

The project will aim to construct irrigation canals that will provide more than 100 extra hectares of land for growing rice and other crops. The land must be cleared of unexploded ordnance (UXO) before the canals can be constructed. MAG’s partners would also focus on non-agricultural income generation activities as well

The workshop went extremely well. Both the district authorities, village leaders and partners were very keen for MAG to undertake UXO clearance, as the irrigation would benefit 15 local communities. Once back in Vientiane we would meet again with our partners and draft a project proposal for submission to donors.

Once the motor was finally located, the captain expected us to get back in! There was no way I was getting back in, I thought to myself. But he explained we were now on an island in the middle of a raging river. There was no choice but to try and negotiate the rapids across to the nearest bank and call the car to take us back along the road.

The ingenious captain then devised a way to tie the boat to a strong tree trunk, before exploring the next passage across the river and guiding us through it. Skill and agility seem to rest in the souls of well-seasoned boat captains!

We were safe. The computers and luggage were wet but we were all good. But there was no point trying to go south following the river, so instead we embarked on a two-day drive north along muddy roads. We passed through quiet, remote towns before arriving in Xieng Khouang for the car trip back to Vientiane.

Like I used to say, the life of a Programme Officer is usually unexciting.

4 June 09

Images from MAG's programme in Lao PDR – the most bombed country in the world per capita:

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR. Photos: Sean Sutton / MAG.