A Filipina and a Lao woman in Seoul

A Filipina and a Lao woman in Seoul


By Mindanews on November 1 2013 3:39 pm

SEOUL, South Korea (MindaNews/1 November)—The Philippines and Laos have been famous to Korean tourists.  Last year, South Korea was the top source of tourists for the Philippines with over one million arrivals, while nearly 54,000 South Korean tourists visited Laos. Here, two foreign students, a Filipina and a Lao woman, have survived the challenges and realized the need to go home after their graduation to help their own countries.

The cold autumn wind gently breezes through a flock of pedestrians below tall, modern buildings in Seoul one late morning. Amid the hustle and bustle of a megacity with over 10 million people, a 34-year old Filipina, Michelle Palumbarit, arrives at our meeting place just on time.  Her breakfast was coffee in a paper cup, holding it like an accent of her fashionable black leggings under a grey skirt and long-sleeve blouse. She mixes up with Koreans like a citizen now after five years of adjusting to their daily lifestyle as she pursues higher education.

“I have learned the system here myself because no one ever taught me,” she says and explains the subway train map at the last page of her pocket calendar. All station names are written in Hangul, the Korean alphabet. The map can also be viewed through mobile applications available for smart phones. She claims, however, that she’s a bit “old school” as her handy is only “smart” enough to make phone calls and send text messages.

It is the same phone she was using when she first came to Seoul for a Korean government scholarship in a master’s degree on Korean Studies at Yonsei University, where she is also currently a scholar for a doctorate degree on Political Science major in Comparative Politics. She finished her bachelor’s degree in History at the University of the Philippines in Miag-ao, Iloilo. “Obviously, I am an Ilongga,” she says proudly. Ilongga refers to native women in Iloilo province, while men are called Ilonggo, which also refers to their dialect.

Palumbarit has been interested in Korea since then, as her first master’s degree was Asian Studies with Korean Studies as her area of specialization at the University of the Philippines in Diliman, Quezon City. Living in a country that is more developed is more of a boon than a bane. She points out Seoul’s efficient transport systems and high priority on safety and security. “If you are lost, just ask the traffic policemen. They are very helpful,” she advises, recalling her first few days in Seoul. She hopes that some good things here could be applied in her country someday.


She dreams of becoming an educator as her way of “giving back to the people who paid for my education at UP and actively and positively contribute to the country I have always loved.” At times when she was sad, frustrated and lonely, and wanted to give up, she says she thinks of the Filipino people.

“All I ever dream of is to be a good teacher and a person who can inspire others to be the best they can be through education. For now, I am working on that dream,” she says, waiting to get off at the train’s next stop.

Michelle Palumbarit (left)


Missing Laos

Unlike Palumbarit who is familiar with the subway system, Lao student Ms Lattanaphone Vannasouk, 24, barely uses public transport and has not explored South Korea except during a few school field trips since she came here five years ago. In an interview in the evening, this petite woman, also called “Tookta,” in her denim pants and checkered long-sleeves, says she prefers to set meetings in familiar surroundings so she won’t get lost. Her school, the Korea Development Institute (KDI) School of Public Policy and Management in Seoul, sits in a compound after a turn from Hoegi-ro Road. It is not so easy to find.

Tookta was only 18 years old when she arrived in Seoul alone in 2008 to avail of a Korean government scholarship program. She took a bachelor’s degree on business administration, major in trade and industrial policy. Dreaming big after her undergraduate course, she applied in the same school for a new scholarship to pursue a master’s degree on public policy, which she is hoping to complete next year.

Setting a goal helped Tookta cope with a new culture and system of education. “The system of education here is similar to that of Laos, but the students here are different. To compete with Korean students is very hard. I’m not going to compete with them but I have to force myself to study hard, just like them,” she says. Aside from seven other Lao students, Tookta developed friendship among foreign students from Vietnam, Thailand, Myanmar and Mongolia.

Although she admits that technology and quality of education, among other development facets, are better in South Korea, she still misses her homeland. “It’s really hard to eat the same kind of food all the time. Lao food is hard to cook here,” she says and laughs. When she misses tam-mak-houng (papaya salad), she makes her own version with green papaya but without padek (fermented fish sauce), making do with some fish sauces found in the market.

“Here, I see a lot of development. Compared to Laos, we are still left behind,” she says. Tookta wants to bring new ideas when she comes back to Laos. She hopes to work in a private company first while waiting for the chance to work in the government, particularly in the Ministry of Planning and Investment. But she admits that it is hard to assert new ideas in her country if she will just be alone.  “It’s hard to change the way they are doing. I will just be one person there. If I am alone, I think it’s really hard but if we have a team, I think we can.”

She points out that Laos has a lot of potential for investment, citing the 4,000 islands in Champassak province. “It’s my parents’ hometown and I personally like the province. Don Khone and Don Khet islands have many prospects for investment,” she says.

Studying hard and being patient are some of the lessons that she learned while in Seoul. “I always tell my cousins and relatives to study hard and if they have the chance to study abroad, [they must] grab the opportunity.” (Lorie Ann Cascaro of MindaNews is one of the fellows of the FK Norway (Fredskorpset) exchange program in partnership with the Vietnam Forum of Environmental Journalists. She’s currently in Laos and hosted by the Vientiane Times.)

Read more http://www.mindanews.com/feature/2013/11/01/a-filipina-and-a-lao-woman-in-seoul/
On the Lao side, Naga fireballs remain…

On the Lao side, Naga fireballs remain…


By Lorie Ann Cascaro on October 24 2013 5:59 pm

People swarm into a small village in Vientiane to see the Naga fireballs themselves despite others’ belief that the phenomenon is but a legend

VIENTIANE, Laos (MindaNews / 24 Octet) – Somewhere around 7 p.m., visitors and the villagers of Pakngum in Vientiane see hundreds of golden lanterns rising slowly beyond a full moon from Thailand’s Nong Khai province. Between Laos and Thailand, where the Nam Ngum and Mekong rivers converge, an intermittent exchange of fireworks conveys the people’s excitement at seeing the Naga fireballs shoot up from the deep recesses of the river.

Locally known as “bangfai paya nak” and described as pinkish-red fireballs, they surge like rockets every Boun Ork Phansa at the end of Buddhist Lent, says Mr Khamphuan Bouthsingkham, 65, who was the village’s chief 13 years ago, speaking in an interview hours earlier. He says that according to their ancestors, the Naga festival has been a 400-year-old celebration above and “under” the Mekong. “While the human world holds a festival with boat races and fireworks, the Nagas underwater create fireballs to honour the Buddha,” he explains.

Buddhists believe the Nagas are servants of Buddha in the form of water snakes residing in the Mekong River. As Mr Khamphuan imagines, they resemble the structures of dragon-like snakes with golden and green bodies found in the four corners of a small tower inside the compound of the village’s Vat Pra That Yadee Sama Khee Tham Thin Soy. Built in 1570, the temple has a 500-year-old stupa sitting about 50 meters from the riverbank. He points out that the Naga visited the stupa 30 years ago as people discovered its tracks from the riverbank.


The Naga also took a human form, Mr Khamphuan continues. Sometime in 1978 or 1979, a novice monk crossed the Mekong to Thailand before the Naga fireballs appeared and bought two boxes of powder used to make explosives. The young monk has since disappeared, but people believe he was the Naga who used the powder to make fireballs.

The young Khamphuan saw fireballs rapidly emerging from the water and rising up past a big tree before they disappeared. He grew up in a traditional house which is a hundred footsteps away from the confluence of the two rivers. “They came out right from the centre,” he says, and points to an imaginary line in between the two flows. The water from the Nam Ngum is greyish green with a steady flow, while the one from the Mekong is brown and fast.

He has never seen the Naga, but a village fisherman did see it some years ago. Mr Khamphuan tells Vientiane Times that on the day of the festival, the man’s fishing net caught something heavy. Instead of pulling it up, the man was pulled into the river. Thought to be dead by his family and neighbours, the man emerged on the third day after his disappearance and told them about an underwater festival. He was sent back to tell the villagers to honour the Naga by refraining from fishing on Buddhist days, and practicing the precepts of Buddhism such as not telling lies.


The villagers’ strong belief in the Naga and Buddhist teachings might have influenced the emergence of the fireballs. Mr Khamphuan ’s 99-year-old father, Mr Thit Saun Bouthsingkham, says he saw hundreds of fireballs coming out of the river during his younger years. The only one left of his generation, this toothless old man narrates his earlier encounters with the fireballs. He says he could not touch them as they rose so quickly into the sky and there were hundreds of them coming out from the sides of his boat. But, as the environment changes and people’s belief fades, the fireballs seldom show up, he explains.

His granddaughter, Ms Lounee, 28, says she has seen fireballs every year for as long as she can remember. Her two children, a one-year-old and a five-year-old, also saw them last year, she adds. While decorating banana stems with flowers, candles and incense sticks that would be floated on the river later, she says “I expect to see them again tonight,” and smiles broadly.

But 13-year-old Jonas Onthavong from the distant village of Khosaath, who has been visiting Pakngum every year for the festival, has never seen any fireballs. He says he was too busy talking or playing with his friends and didn’t really care about them. Asked whether or not he believes they are real, he looks at the river and scratches his head with his left hand. “Ha-sip, ha-sip (50-50),” he says dismissively.

As the night darkens, everyone waits to see real Naga fireballs while drinking Beerlao and eating tam-mak-houng (papaya salad). Amid whistling firecrackers, a sailing boat loaded with some bubbly locals entertains the hovering crowd on the Lao side of the river. Hours pass as fireworks and flying lanterns continue to amuse the watchers’ eyes. Until, a red light, like a laser point, appears and rises over the silhouette of the dark part of Thailand’s shore. It is too dark and far to figure out if it emerges from the river. The people who see it gasp in awe as the light quickly disappears. A few minutes later, another one appears, coming from the same direction as the first. More people are now looking in the same direction, waiting for another red light to rise. The third one rises after a longer wait. And who knows, how many more red “fireballs” rise that night.

Last year, many fireballs appeared the day after the festival when there was less noise along the river, Mr Khamphuan says, adding that the more visitors there are, the fewer fireballs are seen.

But, the existence of the Naga fireballs remains controversial. Online articles try to provide scientific explanations on how the fireballs could be formed but until then they remain theories. For example, American writer Bryan Dunning said during his weekly podcast, Skeptoid, in 2009 that the “scientific” explanation of the Naga fireballs “is not very scientific at all”.

Dunning argued that there are “two fatal flaws” with the hypothesis that the decomposition of organic matter in the riverbed produces methane gas, which bubbles to the surface, have caused the fireballs. He said “methane can only burn in an oxygen environment within a specific range of concentrations” and “requires the presence of phosphine combined with phosphorous tetrahydride, whose needed proportions are unlikely to be found in nature.” But, he added that even if such conditions did exist in the Mekong, “the combination of oxygen, methane and phosphorus compounds burns bright bluish-green with a sudden pop, producing black smoke” and “under no conditions does it burn slowly, or red, or rise up in the air as a fireball”.

Some people have tried to solve the mystery or prove that the phenomenon is a mere fraud. In 2002, a Thai TV programme showed how soldiers were found on the Lao side firing tracer bullets to produce what those from the other side of the river saw as the fireballs.

Meanwhile, whether or not the red fireballs that people have seen in recent years are actually firecrackers discreetly set off to attract tourists does not matter for Mr Khamphuan . “Why should I care about those stories when I saw the fireballs myself?” Nevertheless, as long as there are still people like the Bouthsingkhams who hope to see them every Ork Phansa, the festival will continue to draw visitors to small villages like Pakngum and let them get to know its humble people.

[Lorie Ann Cascaro of MindaNews is one of the fellows of the FK Norway (Fredskorpset) exchange programme in partnership with the Vietnam Forum of Environmental Journalists. She’s currently in Laos and hosted by the Vientiane Times.]

Read more http://www.mindanews.com/feature/2013/10/24/feature-on-the-lao-side-naga-fireballs-remain/
‘Winning beyond boat racing’

‘Winning beyond boat racing’


By Lorie Ann Cascaro on October 19 2013 11:12 am


VIENTIANE, Laos (MindaNews/19 October)–In Ban Sai Fong Neua, 17 kilometers south from the city center, at least 40 women, each holding a wooden oar, trekked down a steep slope into the Mekong River barely an hour before sunset on Tuesday. Children and husbands of the village women lingered at the cliff and watched a long traditional boat advancing as the river flows slowly.

The Lao-International Women’s Boat Racing Team prepares for its 20th year of joining the race in Vientiane. MindaNews photo by Lorie Ann Cascaro

They composed the Lao-International Women’s Boat Racing Team, a mixture of the village women and falang (expatriate) women from different countries who are living in Vientiane. Even before the race could begin, the team has already “won” this year’s Dragon Boat Racing Festival Women’s Category.

That is simply because the team has remained intact for 20 years now.


Starting today (Saturday) until tomorrow, they will paddle in unison along the Mekong River near the Vientiane Capital not just to compete with the other teams but most importantly to celebrate the sisterhood that they have strengthened for two decades now.


The boat racing has tightened the connection of the international women to the village people through the years.


“We have never won a race but the women continue to participate,” Ruth Foster, an international teacher in her 50s, told MindaNews during the team’s regular practice at the river bank near the village.


Although they trained hard, the women give more value to their friendship and experience, she added.


Foster had been rowing for the team since she arrived in Vientiane almost a decade ago and years later became the coach for English instructions, while a primary school headmaster, Mr Kibou, who has been training the women for 16 years, commands in Lao language.


Lao Women’s Union members, particularly Khamphao Phimasone and Amphone, are key people who have kept the team going through the seasons, Foster said.


The veteran Khamphao recalled the Lao-International Women’s Boat Racing Team first joined in 1993 with already non-villagers and foreigners as members.


While foreign team members were transitory, membership from the village hardly changed year after year. Thus, there is a “surprising amount of continuity” of the group, Foster said.


It is easy to join the team. One can try out and see if she can pursue the training. It is towards the big race day that permanent members get their respective places on the boat.

Women boat racers trek down to the Mekong River to practice for the Dragon Boat Racing Festival women’s category this year. MindaNews photo by Lorie Ann Cascaro

The boat racing festival is held every Boun Ok Phansa, the end of Rains Retreat, which is a three-month fasting of Buddhist monks in the rainy season. It has been a tradition for the Lao-International Women’s Boat Racing Team to bring food and alms to the monks in the morning before going to the race.

“Every year, we went to the temple with our finest, wearing best sinhs with the mandatory scarf over one shoulder and takbat bowls full of offerings for the monks,” Foster said.


But the women fear they could not continue their tradition in this year’s festival.


The competition for women’s category will be held in the morning on the same day that they have to visit the temple. She points out that the race seemed to become “commercialized” in the last two years. The village members find it costly to go the center twice as the boat racing will run for two days with men and women categories being done on separate days.


Nevertheless, the team will surely make it on the race day and paddle at their best.


The tree


Foster recounted their sleepover in a temple at Ban Nakham, about four hours ride from Vientiane in 2009.


There they saw “the tree,” which was eventually turned into their racing boat to replace a 50-year old one.


Boats that are used for the racing festival are made of a single tree. Villagers believe that the spirit of a tree will be transferred to the boat. They pay respects to the spirit by keeping the boat inside the village temple until the next racing festival.


The monks organized the boat making in exchange for the funds that the women raised from sponsorships to build a structure inside the temple compound.


Since they cut a tree, the villagers from Sai Fong Neua and Nakham planted more trees in the area. The relationship between the two villages has grown strongly since the making of the team’s new boat.


Most international paddlers are interns from a range of organizations or individuals working or studying here for a short period, while local members are professionals, employees and market vendors. The race has been a break from their normal day-to-day lives when they can show their extraordinary skills.  (Lorie Ann Cascaro of MindaNews is one of the fellows of the FK Norway (Fredskorpset) exchange program in partnership with the Vietnam Forum of Environmental Journalists. She’s currently in Laos and hosted by the Vientiane Times.)  



Read more http://www.mindanews.com/feature/2013/10/19/winning-beyond-boat-racing/
Cooking hot to keep the climate cool

Cooking hot to keep the climate cool


By Lorie Ann Cascaro on October 16 2013 4:00 pm

VIENTIANE, Laos (MindaNews / 16 Oct) – Buying a new cookstove is not easy. Sellers offer heaps of different models that look alike and as a buyer, how do you know how it performs at home? Not to mention that the human brain does not like to make decisions. The problem is apparent in Dongmakind market, along Road Number 10 to Thangon. All outlets offer a wide array of models.

But, if you believe the saleswoman, Ms Sai, 35, choosing has now become easy. She sells something that the others don’t have yet – the improved tao payat (fuel-saving cookstove). A prominent, blue sticker distinguishes the stoves and a tarpaulin poster states that these stoves are “quality-tested and more efficient” than traditional stoves.

“They are better,” Ms Sai, who had sold two out of a first batch of five cookstoves a week after she began displaying them, tells Vientiane Times on a Friday afternoon. She promotes the stoves to customers, saying they are fuel-saving, long lasting, and friendly to health and the environment.

She is among Vientiane’s first five retailers of a new, improved tao payat model, which resulted from a project of SNV Netherlands Development Organisation and the local Non-Profit Association Normai. It was paid for by the European Union, Oxfam and the Blue Moon Fund.


The project started in Savannakhet in 2011, where in 2012 about 1,500 stoves already have been sold. Sales will reach 5,000 in 2013 and go up to 20,000 in 2014. Now, the first stoves are being sold in Vientiane. They are also going to be promoted at a special booth during the upcoming boat racing festival.

Mr Bastiaan Teune, Sector Leader of Renewable Energy of SNV in Laos, says the project tries to connect the private and the public sector and to improve the lives of the people as its main purpose. It focuses on making the traditional stove more efficient and durable. By replacing the old tao dam with the improved tao payat, a household can save about 20 percent of fuel, which is equal to 300 grams of charcoal per day. It also boils water faster.

This might not look like much, but quickly becomes so when scaled-up. In total, Laos can save at least 30,000 kilograms of charcoal per day with the 100,000 improved cook stoves that the project aims to produce by 2016. About 50,000 cookstoves of them will be distributed in Vientiane capital and province, 25,000 each in the provinces of Savannakhet and Champasak.

Mr Teune explains that the roughly 100kg charcoal that one new cookstove saves per year results in greenhouse gases equal of one ton of carbon dioxide (CO2). The total greenhouse gas emissions reduced by the project during the period of 2014-2016 will be 150,000 tons, he says. “This is equal to the emissions of 20,000 passengers flying from Vientiane to Amsterdam and back,” Mr Teune explains.

The reduced greenhouse gas emissions could theoretically also be sold on the international carbon market in the future. Unfortunately, they’re not worth that much nowadays. “The ‘market price’ to sell one ton used to be US$10, but is now at an all-time low at US$1 only due to the low international commitment to the Kyoto Protocol,” adds Mr Teune. The greenhouse gases saved by the improved cookstoves would have a total market value of about US$150,000.

While it is true that the use of the improved tao payat reduces carbon emissions from cooking, it does not stop suppliers of charcoal to cut trees and char wood. But wood and charcoal can be considered as renewable sources of energy only if another tree is planted after cutting one, says Mr Teune. This is beyond the scope of this particular project, and he has made steps to do so.

The producer of the first cookstoves in Vientiane is Mr Loth, 35, whose workshop lies in Oudomphone village. On the ground, hundreds of grey tao payat stoves wait to be baked in the kiln. While his employees are crafting stove after stove in the back, he says that he doesn’t expect to earn much more from supplying the new-designed stoves instead of the old ones, due to the longer durability. “But after using three of these stoves at home, I knew then that they would quickly sell out in the market”, says Mr Loth. An improved cookstove costs 10,000 kip more than a traditional cookstove but it lasts a year and a half longer, he adds.

Around the world, 1.6 billion people depend on charcoal and wood for cooking. In Laos, over 80 percent of the households still use traditional stoves for cooking, at least twice a day. Cookstoves are “detrimental to the livelihood of people,” according to Mr Teune, and their use also brings certain risks. Firewood takes time to collect, for example, and smoke creates a lot of health problems. Worldwide, about four million people die per year from smoke-induced diseases. Increasing the efficiency of the cookstoves lessens all these troubles.

Another long-term impact of the project, Mr Teune says, is the introduction of quality standards: “Let producers agree on quality standards with retailers. Consumers will distinguish a good stove from a traditional one by the blue label. The government can take part in quality assurance, using better methods to check the efficiency of stoves.”

Testing is done by the Institute of Renewable Energy and New Materials of the Ministry of Science and Technology, where staff tests the efficiency and characteristics of different models. For the first time ever a quality standard is introduced to the cookstove market in Lao PDR.

The second outlet that features the tao payat in Dongmakind market is the one of Ms Khek, 29. The new model is lined up together with old ones like the tao dam (black stove) or stoves made of cement. She points to a small wood-fired stove when asked which one sells best. Why? “It’s the cheapest and costs only 20,000 kip each. But it can only last for seven to eight months.” She notes that although the improved tao payat costs 45,000 kip, it can last up to two years. On her shelf, a quite special one, the first ever produced cookstove with the serial number 001, produced by Mr Loth, waits for his new owner.

[Lorie Ann Cascaro of MindaNews is one of the fellows of the FK Norway (Fredskorpset) exchange program in partnership with the Vietnam Forum of Environmental Journalists. She’s currently in Laos and hosted by the Vientiane Times.]



Read more http://www.mindanews.com/feature/2013/10/16/cooking-hot-to-keep-the-climate-cool/
Lao farmers need no ‘magic’ to adapt to climate change

Lao farmers need no ‘magic’ to adapt to climate change


By Lorie Ann Cascaro on September 24 2013 4:20 pm

VIENTIANE, Laos (MindaNews/24 September) — The sky is still dark when 48-year old Ms Kham Phanyavong leaves her house at 3:30 AM on Saturday. She has to be at That Luang organic market before the customers arrive. She pays 40,000 kip to transport four baskets of vegetables from Nontae village in Xaythany district here. In her baskets are long beans, onions, morning glory, cucumber, papaya and carrots, all from her garden.

Earning four million kip a month, cash comes in regularly from selling vegetables and not from her two rai (0.32 hectare) of rice farm.

Her land that she tills along with her husband and six children produces 35 sacks or about 3,500 kilos of khao niaw (a variety of sticky rice) every year. But, everything is enough for her kith and kin. “Our farm doesn’t have irrigation,” she tells MindaNews. She says rain comes less frequent nowadays, causing the rice paddies to store less water. When it rains, flood destroys the plants and washes away essential nutrients from the soil.

Her farm yields enough to feed her own family. She doesn’t know if it can yield more with proper irrigation and fertilization. She does not blame “climate change” but rather talks about adjusting her farming period to the changing weather patterns. Learning from experiences in the past, she has to replant rice seedlings to the paddies two or three weeks before the yearly “big rain” so that the plants will not be uprooted by the flood that happens after two days of heavy downpour.

Vientiane is one of the six major flood-affected provinces in Laos, including Savannakhet, Bolikhamxay, Khammouane, Attapeu and Champasak.


“Climate change” is not a common term for most farmers in Laos. But, the Lao government recognizes the impacts of climate change by signing the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) in 1995 and the Kyoto Protocol in 2003. The government developed its National Adaptation Programme of Action to Climate Change (NAPA) with support from the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP).

In the NAPA 2009, Deputy Prime Minister Chair of National Environment Committee Mr Asang Laoly says Laos has seen in recent years “more frequent and severe floods and droughts which are alternately occurring each year.” “Temperature is continuously increasing and the rainfall is erratic, resulting in a number of adverse impacts to the economic system, environment and the livelihoods of people of all ethnic groups.”

Over three decades, from 1966 to 2009, Laos has felt the impacts of climate change through the increase in temperature with an average of 0.1 degrees Celsius (C), between the northern and central part, and between the central and southern part. As observed in the rapid assessment, the average temperature in eight northern provinces increased from 23.0 to 23.2 C; 26.3 C to 26.6 C in five central provinces; and, 26.9 C to 27.3 C in four southern provinces.

Data from the Department of Meteorology and Hydrology (DMH) show that drought occurred in Laos from 1995 to 2005 “characterized by higher and irregular increases in temperature.” The country also experienced large floods, including flash floods in the northern and eastern regions as recorded in 1995, 1996, 2000, 2002 and 2005. More recently, experiences with typhoons have been made in the south of the country.

In an earlier interview, UNDP technical advisor to the National Agricultural Forestry Research Institute (NAFRI) of Lao PDR Mr. Manfred Staab said farmers can tell their stories of climate change events. As an example, he cited that previously a farmer grew enough number of seedlings in a single batch at the start of rainy season, but now the start of the rainy season is interrupted by dry periods. “When the second of third sequence of rain comes after the dry intervals, they don’t have any seedling anymore and have to try starting the whole process again.”

“Let the farmer fully understand what is actually happening to help them becoming aware that they need to change their livelihood, too. Either you may decide to move to another area if you can afford to do so, or you adapt to this changing environment,” said Mr. Staab.

Improving the Resilience of Agricultural Sector to Climate Change Impacts (IRAS), which is a project of NAFRI funded by the UNDP, has introduced alternatives to the farmers in two vulnerable districts each in Savannakhet and Xayaboury provinces. These areas are identified by the project as prone to flood and drought, and have a high percentage of poor farming households.

As a pilot project, IRAS has catered to nearly 500 households until 2015. In their latest results of agriculture and water management activities, significant improvements can be seen in some villages.

He says the strategies and adaptation practices that they taught to rice farmers are “not really new” and “not surprising ideas, but solid and demonstrated activities”. Aside from introducing new rice varieties that are adaptive to rainy and dry seasons, he cites proven alternative farming practices such as raising chickens, ducks, fish, pigs and frogs, and storing of water in reservoirs and large containers. He hopes that Lao people will learn from the project and replicate the activities in their own villages.

“It’s not anything magic here. The farmers know how to grow rice but they just have to deal with it differently with the farming system, opening up options for diversification of crops, fruits, vegetables, livestock. Just opening their viewpoint for existing choices with economic benefits.”

Back to the village in Vientiane, Ms Kham is unknowingly becoming resilient to climate change by doing crop diversification as she is also planting vegetables aside from rice. Thanks to her organization, the Vientiane Organic Farmers Group, that provides her seeds and trainings. The farmers sell their vegetables on Wednesday and Saturday morning in That Luang esplanade, and Monday afternoon at the Chao Fa Ngum Park here.

(Lorie Ann Cascaro of MindaNews is one of the fellows of the FK Norway (Fredskorpset) exchange program in partnership with the Vietnam Forum of Environmental Journalists. She’s currently in Laos and hosted by the Vientiane Times.)



Read more http://www.mindanews.com/environment/2013/09/24/lao-farmers-need-no-magic-to-adapt-to-climate-change/
Laos kids express hope for the future through images

Laos kids express hope for the future through images


By Lorie Ann Cascaro on September 7 2013 3:59 pm

Through drawings, photos and role play, children from different provinces met in Vientiane to express their vision for their villages by the time they reach 20.

VIENTIANE, Laos (MindaNews / 7 Sept) – Luxon Keodavonh from Donkhoun village in Khammuan province’s Xebangfay district wants to be a soldier when he grows up. He will be 20 years old in 2020.

“My two siblings and I are living with my mother in Khammuan. Our father left us for reasons I don’t know. But, when I become a soldier, I will earn a lot of money and will give it to my mother to support us,” he told Vientiane Times.

He is one of 12 children picked by World Vision Lao PDR (WVL) to join the “Hearing the hopes of children for Laos in 2020” forum in Vientiane last Tuesday.

Coming from 12 provinces, they were selected as children’s council members to tell government partners about life in their communities and what they wanted to achieve by the time they were 20.


Using crayons and coloured pencils, the children used drawing to express how they envisioned their villages in the year 2020.

“The school in my village is very old; I want it to be fixed. My village also needs a hospital to treat sick people,” Luxon said, showing his own picture to participants.

Khamphay Vilayvong, National Leading Committee for Rural Development and Poverty Eradication Foreign Relations Department senior official, attended the forum along with representatives from government and non-government organisations and agencies.

Children also presented photographs they had taken in their villages.

Twelve-year-old Chansy showed a padlocked toilet in her school in Seanmeaung village in Champassak province’s Soukhuman district.

“We cannot use it because there is no water and we cannot keep it clean,” she said.

Vongphachanh, 13 and from the same village, showed a picture of a water pump.

“It’s very difficult for us to use this,” he said. “We need a sustainable water supply.”

Lattana from Pakbok village, Ngoy district in Luang Prabang province, showed a photo of farmers in cabbage farm.

“In the past, we grew a few vegetables only for us to eat but now we are growing vegetables in a very big field to eat and sell as well,” she said.

Photos taken by Phengkham from Samyaek village in Phoukoun district, Luang Prabang province show a market in her village and farmers climbing a steep hill while carrying huge baskets of vegetables.

She said the stalls in the market didn’t have strong roofs, the place was not clean and her family needed a vehicle to transport their goods.

One photograph from Khamla, from Vangxieng village in Phonthong district, Luang Prabang province, was of two men riding a bamboo raft along a river. One man is holding on to his motorbike, while the other is maneuvering the raft.

“The villagers need to build a bridge to cross the river more easily and safely,” Khamla said.

The group dramatised scenes of two families to show how parents can violate their children’s rights by not sending them to school or by depriving their daughters of an education.

WVL National Director Amelia Merrick said she had felt discouraged hearing children’s stories last year and had realised World Vision was not working fast enough to help the children in its 24 target districts.

She said it was around then her friend Sombath Somphone, a well-regarded Lao community worker who has been reportedly missing since December, told her stories of change.

“He told me, ‘I have seen it different in Laos, Amelia’,” she said.

“Mr Sombath said our greatest hope is listening to the youth and listening to the children. He said the children in Laos are very smart and they have great ideas and want to be a part of the change in Laos.

“Today I believe that it is true because I have been inspired that it can be different.”

More than 46,000 children are enrolled in WVL’s child sponsorship programme, which is run in rural communities in five provinces – Luang Prabang, Borikhamxay, Khammuan, Savannakhet and Champassak.

Unlike Luxon’s dream of becoming a soldier, Seua, who led the group singing, wants to become a policeman.

“But, I can also be a singer,” he said, showing his teeth in a shy grin.

The small boy sang along with the other children in a song honoring soldiers who fought for the country’s freedom, while Vongphachan, 13, played a wooden beat box like a true professional. (Lorie Ann Cascaro / MindaNews with Patithin of Vientiane Times)

[Lorie Ann Cascaro of MindaNews is one of the fellows of the FK Norway (Fredskorpset) exchange program in partnership with the Vietnam Forum of Environmental Journalists. She’s currently in Laos and hosted by the Vientiane Times.]



Read more http://www.mindanews.com/around-mindanao/children/2013/09/07/laos-kids-express-hope-for-the-future-through-images/
Getting fit in Vientiane

Getting fit in Vientiane

VIENTIANE, Laos (MindaNews / 6 Sept) – It’s 5 p.m. here in the prefecture. In Vientiane Times newsroom, journalists take off work one after another, leaving the editors and layout artists to close pages of the paper. A few of them came out of the office’s comfort room after switching from formal shoes to sneakers, from uniform to dry-fit short pants and shirts.

They’re not taking their motorbikes or cars with them yet. Two-minute walk from the office at Pangkham Road sits the Chou Anouvong Park where a gigantic statue of King Anouvong, the last monarch in Vientiane, is enclosed by green patches, foliage and paved pathways for pedestrians and cyclists. A stone throw away from the statue, the Mekong River beside the park gulps the sunset. At the other river bank, Thailand unhurriedly lights up its street lamps.

I take my knapsack with me on my way to the park as I’m a bit shy to be seen by colleagues suddenly transformed into some kind of “sporty”. Inside a public toilet within the park, I changed my clothes and shoes for 3,000 kip (US$0.38). And, by running in a calculated slow pace (my first time to jog again after two months since I arrived here), off I joined the health enthusiasts of the capital. Non-electric exercise machines of free use are anchored to the ground in the shade of big old trees at another area of the park.

The asphalt road along the river bank stretches over a kilometer long. This road has no traffic rules; it’s not open to vehicles. My momentum has adjusted to run at steady faster pace when I abruptly halt as a boy in soccer shoes chases to kick a ball that rolls towards my feet. It’s a bit hard for me to keep the pacing while anticipating whether or not a bike exhibitionist would perform his next stunts as I pass by.


Some tourists jog in groups and others religiously finish their rounds to and from either ends of the road alone. Young people, usually wearing earphones and clad in bright color outfits, nonchalantly pass by couples and peers who prefer to watch the sunset squatting at the cemented dike. It resembles the benches in an Olympics stadium.

Flags of Lao PDR and the Lao People’s Revolutionary Party alternately line in two sets of 10 poles in a platform like a center stage above the dike. Performing here are hundreds of women in pink shirts and headbands, dancing in Zumba. Another group of women, young and adult, perform their aerobic steps. They manage to synchronize their movements among members, without being distracted by overlapping music from other group’s sound box. The river is their backdrop and their audience is the array of red tents set up by bustling vendors in time for the night market.

Before darkness completely envelops the park, sodium street lights brighten the place. The small red tents are now full of almost everything that is saleable – handicrafts and garments from Laos, Vietnam, China, and Thailand; accessories with copied brands; pirated DVDs; media players and even mobile phones. Paintings are also sold by the artists themselves for as low as 50,000 kip each.

Four kilometers from the Chou Anovoung night market (seven minutes motorbike ride), the That Luang esplanade is simultaneously packed of fitness aficionados. With That Luang temple and the National Assembly building on the side, the esplanade has four-lane paved roads that connect Kaysone Phomvihane Avenue and Nongbone Road.

But, the vast pavement is not part of the city’s traffic. Both ends are temporarily fenced with steel bars. Several groups in aerobics sessions found their own spots at the side, while soccer varsity players are at the other. People jog in the middle undisturbed because drivers of motorbikes (either in a test drive or crash course driving lesson) change lanes to yield to the former.

It’s 8 p.m. in That Luang esplanade when I went there to jog after my Lao language lessons. I just did two rounds as I felt that I’d already run about three kilometers in 30 minutes. I left the place with still a few cyclists, runners, soccer players and by-standers. The place is open 24 hours.

Friday in Lao language is called “Wan Souk” and “souk” means “happy”. It’s 5 p.m. on a happy day. Let’s exercise in a form of sport that doesn’t require a change of outfit. Let’s play pétanque!

Men in their slacks and women in their Lao sinh skirts parade to nearby compounds that have pétanque courts. I sweat a little bit after several throws of those heavy metal balls that never hit the small one. But, it doesn’t matter as long as I sip enough beer. Yes, this is the sport that will help you gain back the beer belly that you tried to lose days before. You cannot see any pétanque courts here on Fridays without beer bottles or cans. Nevertheless, it’s a part of healthy lifestyle. This time your heart pumps regularly as you enjoy the start of the weekend laughing out loud with friends—usually with beer and some “pulutan” to go with it.

Or raw vegetables.
Eating raw vegetables: a ‘healing’ experience

Eating raw vegetables: a ‘healing’ experience



By Lorie Ann Cascaro on June 11 2013 2:56 pm





VIENTIANE, Laos (MindaNews/11 June) — A plateful of raw mint, basil leaves, cabbage, sliced string beans and lime was served on my table ahead of the rice noodle (feu) soup that I ordered.

Then small bowls of raw bean sprouts and suki, a sauce made of ground peanuts and garlic cooked in oil with a dash of chili powder, arrived before I finally got my noodle soup.

It was my first day after arriving in Vientiane a month ago. My colleagues from the Vientiane Times, Pou and Samly, took me to a popular noodle restaurant here.

I needed a heavy meal at the time, but eating those raw vegetables piqued my appetite. I already knew though that Lao people eat raw vegetables, either with noodle soup or any dish. Despite my strong desire to try everything they eat here, it was totally different when you were about to actually do it.
Lao people eat raw vegetables and leaves that we don’t usually eat in the Philippines, or at least in my hometown.

They wrap dumplings with wild betel leaves aside from cabbage and lettuce. They eat raw morning glory, string beans, broccoli, cauliflower, asparagus, dragon-bone beans, and young leaves from mango trees.

Some people also eat bergamot leaves, which are often cooked with fried meat or insects. Most Lao dishes contain raw garlic, along with other seasonings.

The first time that I ate them, I was worried that my stomach couldn’t digest all those raw vegetables. I grew up thinking that meat and vegetables have to be cooked for good digestion and to kill bacteria with heat.

Eating my first raw vegetables with a supposed “delicious” noodle meal was nostalgic—I felt like my mother was staring at me when I was a kid, chiding, “Eat your vegetables!”
As they say, “There’s always a first time.” But, after a month, I have been craving raw vegetables every meal every day. They really taste so good, especially if dipped in a variety of sauces or mixed as salads.

I learned from reading online and health tips from friends in the medical field that eating raw vegetables allows one to consume more nutrients. They said cooking vegetables destroys vital nutrients and kills enzymes that aid digestion.

Most vegetables that Lao people eat without cooking contain folic acid (vitamin B9), which is an important nutrient to prevent many types of cancer, fetal deformities, Alzheimer’s disease, and depression, among other mental conditions.

Dr. Somchine Singharaj, head of the Food and Drug Division of the Vientiane Health Department, said folate, the form of folic acid in food, is essential for the brain and nervous system to function properly as it is needed for cellular growth and regeneration.

The health expert said uncooked vegetables contain higher amounts of folic acid and antioxidants, including lycopene, beta-carotene, and vitamins C and E.

Many varieties of tropical fruits that are also rich in antioxidants and folic acid are sold in the streets here at reasonable prices.

As a city girl, I badly need detoxification from the processed and junk foods I eat almost every single day for lack of time and creativity. Surely, I will need a lot of folic acid!

But, Singharaj said, you cannot get all the folic acid you need from food alone. If you badly lack folic acid and other nutrients, it is important to seek your doctor’s advice. But you may still want to experience Lao food while you can.

You will not only regain your sense of well-being while enjoying a calm and stress-free life in the countryside but will also restore or reinforce your good health and youthfulness.

With the way people here eat their vegetables, Laos is indeed “a place for healing.”

(Lorie Ann Cascaro of MindaNews is a fellow of the FK Norway (Fredskorpset) exchange program in partnership with the Vietnam Forum of Environmental Journalists. She’s currently in Laos and hosted by the Vientiane Times.)
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How my handwriting changed in four months

How my handwriting changed in four months



I didn't notice it until recently when I jotted notes in my pad. My strokes look different now. I used to write in very tiny letters, especially if they're cursive. But, now, I can barely write a complete short sentence in one line. I write in chubby letters now and my strokes became more curvy but aggressive than before.

I wonder if this is because I've been practicing how to write Lao characters, and the new strokes influenced my old style of writing.

My first round of learning Pasa Lao at Vangvieng
And driving a motorbike everyday, gripping a not-so-smooth accelerator knob, has also made the difference of my handwriting. Two callouses have appeared to be permanent in my right palm.

So much must have changed in me after four months here in Laos. I noticed my arms are darker now than the part under the sleeves. I think there are also some changes in me beyond my skin.

To catch up with some personal stuff that I did in this landlocked country, I will post my previous articles published on MindaNews.

Making friends in Laos by '11 Bus'


 

I was walking along the bricked sidewalks at corners Chao Anou Road and Rue Setthathilath in Ventiane, Laos, when I met Hee Su Jung, a 29-year old Korean lady who was completing her 15-day vacation here all by herself.

It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon (May 7), my fourth day in Laos, and I had been interviewing foreigners for the newspaper column "Streetwise" of Ventiane Times about what they can say about the World's Best Tourist Destination for 2013 title that the European Council on Tourism and Trade (ECTT) officially awarded to Lao People’s Democratic Republic on Thursday.

ECTT chairman, Professor Dr. Anton Caragea, said among the reasons for awarding Laos the title the preservation of its historical and cultural patrimony that comprises wonderful sites, including religious sites of world significance and value; and, promoting a new concept of community-based tourism.

I was looking for my third interviewee when I saw Hee Su, curly blonde hair, spaghetti-strapped blue sleeveless top that matched those loose cotton pants, donning her sunglasses and earphones on. I was hesitant to approach her at first as she seemed to be enjoying her moment in a sunny weather with temperature over 30 degrees Celsius.

Surprisingly, she agreed to be interviewed. And, that was the start of our friendship.

The interview was only brief, but I learned more about her when we met later for dinner.

Her trip to Laos, particularly 12 days in Vangvieng---a small town in Vientiane province that she reached by bus for four hours from the city---had been a therapy for her.

She said Laos is a place for healing, for people to spend time by themselves and think deeply. She read about Laos two years ago from New York Times but at the time she could not decide to give herself a break. It was only last year when she began preparing for the trip after making a major decision---quitting her job as an English teacher to pursue her passion for music.

She played Surdo 1 in a band, Rapercussion, which had several concerts in Seoul and some provinces in South Korea for five years now. She said doing what she loves is liberating for her despite her parents' worrying about her financial stability. Since her vacation here, she has taken rest from the band to think about what she really wants for her life.

She said people tend to miss the target and make themselves busy getting rich or accumulating material things. “Most people complained about their jobs everyday but never dare to quit because they need money,” she continued.

She said most of them don't know how to find peace of mind, and instead they indulge in travelling or sports. "Life is good and a gift from God," she said, adding that everybody has the choice to live and think freely.


Hee Su told me about her Facebook page, “11 bus” (spelled in Korean), which she started last month. In search for her life’s meaning, she decided to talk to strangers and listen to their stories, then share them in her page. She treated all the people she interviewed as her mentors.

She said most of the tourists she met in Laos also went here for soul-searching and to find peace of mind.

She explained that “11 bus” means her two legs, which resemble number 11 when standing, and walking as a form of transportation. By walking, she said, one can meet a lot of people who have their own struggles and stories of success. It only takes one’s willingness to approach a person and the latter’s openness to create a connection and learn from each other.

Actually, she interviewed me in return to talk about my purpose in Laos and how I became a journalist. I told her that maybe my stay in Laos has a stronger purpose than simply completing my assignments under the 11-month exchange program. I’m looking forward to discover such.

I had been walking from my apartment to the office since Day 2, and indeed, I met a lot of strangers, both Lao people and foreigners.

Although I have my officemates at Vientiane Times, which is my host organization in an exchange program of the Vietnam Forum of Environmental Journalists, making friends outside the work place takes confidence and openness to talk to strangers.

On my way to work last Wednesday, I met Sara Holcombe, a photojournalist from Alabama, USA. She introduced me to her friend Dave, an American freelance journalist in his 50s, who has lived here for years. He promised to show me good places here and share some points about journalism.

That was a good start with my own “11 bus.”



Hee Su planned to visit Gangjeong village in Jeju Island, south of Seoul by May or June this year to take part in the protest of residents and activists against the construction of a naval base. Jeju is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the New Seven Wonders of Nature.

She said she realized during her stay in Vangvieng that she can show support for the people’s fight to protect the natural beauty in Gangjeong by simply visiting the village and be together with them.

Getting updates from each other through Line (an online social networking I registered in only when I arrived here), Hee Su and I continue the connection we began when we were on our “11 bus”.

My budding friendship with her reminds me of a journalist friend in Davao City, Philippines, Mick Basa, who taught me a quote from William Butler Yeats that goes “There are no strangers, only friends you haven’t met.”


My first night in Laos

My first night in Laos

This is about my first night in Laos. But, I promise to answer all Jesse's questions to me later.

I was afraid of ghost inside my room. I never thought of anything like
it until I woke up in the middle of the night after I thought somebody
shouted at my ear: "Huy!" or was it "Oi!" I didn't turn off the lights
and TV to make me feel safe. At first, I thought it was only something
that I heard from the TV show. So, I went back to sleep and after a
few minutes or hours (I'm not sure anymore), I woke up again after I
thought I heard the same thing. And, at the time, the voice coming
from the TV was of a soft-spoken woman. That was when I thought, it
was not the TV...

Since then, I've been afraid to stay in my own room. Worse, my room is
in between two empty rooms. The other door in front of mine, just a
meter away, is always locked. The guard, Sumnek, told me the owner
keeps it closed because the other door in the opposite side is the one
being used. Despite that, I always think nobody occupies the room
until now. Since I arrived, only one window of that room has been
open. And, I can't see any shade of light coming from that room every
single night.

Fortunately, the other room near the staircase is now being occupied
by a couple, one from New York and the other from Israel. The American
guy, Benjie, is staying for a month like me. I will have to move in
another apartment after a month. My mentor said an Indian-Australian
volunteer, Step, will be staying with me in another house by June. So,
until now, I'm still struggling to be comfortable in my room.

Last week, a Filipina friend, Ellen, invited me to stay with her in
her apartment, which is at the top floor of a 6-story building. Like
me, she is also afraid to stay alone in an apartment with two rooms.
She lets me occupy the other room.

But, I can only stay there until this week. A former tenant asked her
to rent the extra room next week. This means, I will be back to my
apartment.

Two days ago, I took some clothes from my room. I realized that the
gloomy ambiance of my room might be brought by the weak light from a
small bulb, the only light I have. My bathroom has a bigger one,
fluorescent lamp. I asked Sumnek if it's possible for him to provide
my room a fluorescent lamp to brighten the room. He said, yes, and so
I expected it to be fixed before I go back.

Sabaidee: Hello, Laos!

 


May 12, 2013

Sabaidee
means Hello in Lao language. My officemates in Vientiane Times brought me to a house blessing right from the airport last May 4. That was such an exciting way to welcome a guest!

I've been here in Vientiane, Laos for eight days already. It took me more than three weeks since I arrived in Bangkok before I got the interest to write in this blog.

Maybe, I was still so overwhelmed after flying miles away from my homeland. Or was it culture shock?

When I first landed in Vientiane, I immediately fell in love with its French-influenced architecture. I never thought this place is so sophisticated because I was told it's more like a province back home.

But, the Talatsao Mall, it's lone shopping mall, looks like one of our small air-conditioned markets though. Most products cost thrice higher than the ones in Bangkok, where most stores here got their stuff.


The foods taste good---spicy and salty. Parsley is always present in almost all of their dishes, except for fried ones. But, expect that there's parsley in the dipping sauce. Lao people eat noodles, sticky and steamed rice as their staple food. But, what's so interesting is that they usually eat raw green and leafy vegetables.

I was advised by Ma'am Amy, my mentor in the Philippines for this exchange project, to drink Coke to get away from taste fatigue and to taste like home. Because I'm not a Coke drinker, I drink beer. And, since my first day here, I fell in love with Beerlao, which tastes better than our beer but still makes me feel like home. Honestly, I haven't had a Coke since I arrived.

It's sunset here now. My view from the roof top of a 6-story building and the chirping birds reminded me that home is near.



From archipelago to landlocked

From archipelago to landlocked



The beach days are over. ... for awhile.

Twenty days to go before my journey to Bangkok, Thailand, from where I will enter Vientiane, Laos, will begin. This may sound familiar to my fellow Filipinos who are used to traveling abroad. But, mine will be slightly different because my journey to Laos is a part of my job. Travelling like a tourist will only be an incentive.

It will be my first time to fly outside the Philippines, outside my comfort zone. And, like I said, this flight won't be just an ordinary holiday for an amateur traveler. This will be the beginning of the next 365 days of my life in a landlocked country.

How is that for a woman, who had not missed the beach and island escapade in each of her 29 years in the archipelago?

But, I'll be missing much more if I will not spend a year in a country that will let me see a different world, than a day in the beach.

This journey is an opportunity for me to be the window of my fellow people in Davao City, and the country in general, to have a glimpse of the uniqueness of the people and places in Laos.

Allow my senses, heart and mind to convey the "beauty and wonders" of another Asian land in a way that I know I can be exact---writing and taking photos.

Welcome to my new blog! Your window abroad.




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