There's A Bomb In My Rice Field

As we get closer to the end of our travels I begin to reflect. Reflection is often a good thing for the reflector but it may not always be good for the dear reader. I will try my best not to get too carried away.

One of the things that has struck me more than anything about the people in the regions we have visited is their attitude towards danger; very few people really seemed to consider it in their every day lives. For example, on more than one occassion, in more than one country we watched plain clothed (as in no safety gear) electricity workers lean a bamboo ladder against a telephone pole, climb up and start picking away at the various wires. At home proper safety equipment must be in place and the perimeter secured before anyone will even get near the wires. In SE Asia entire families ride on one scooter with no helmets or even shoes. We've seen new borns touted in one of their mothers arms while she controlled the motorbike with the other. I often wondered if it isn't necessarily a disregard for safety as much as it is simply living in the moment without anticipation. Buddhism, which is a preponant of living in the moment, dominates over here so it makes sense. Perhaps we in the west are overly concerned with the future and what could happen and so we live in fear and we call it safety to make oursselves feel better. We strap our kids within a inch of their lives in the backseat. Safety first!

Many of the countries we visited still have bombs in their soil from previous wars. This subject came up while we were staying at the Meas family homestay in Cambodia and our host Siphen said quite casually during dinner, "there's a bomb in my rice field." Matt and I looked at each other in shock. "What?!" She laughed at our surprise and told us how the bomb has been there for years. "Someone from CMAG (Cambodia Mines Advisory Group)came to look at it but it is too dangerous to move so they left it." We noted that it must be frustrating not being able to farm that field and she laughed again and said, "we still use the field we just stay away from the bomb." For the second time in five minutes Matt and I had to pick our jaws up from the table. At this point we really shouldn't have been surprised because it certainly wasn't the first time we had heard stories of UXOs (unexploded ordinances) being in close proximity to family homes and villages.

When we were in Laos we toured the Plain of Jars where we were first introduced to MAG and UXOs. We rode to the jar sites in an air conditioned minibus, not too far along in the ride our guide pointed out a group of people working in the fields some distance from the road, "see those people in the beige uniforms(they had no protective gear other than sun hats)? They are MAG workers clearing the bombs today." he said. "How often are they here?" someone asked. "Everyday they are here." Our guides name was Boon Me and he told us stories of how when he was a child he used to build fires on top of the cluster bombs in order to blow them up. "That's so dangerous." I said "I know." He smiled. "We would have to make sure the fire was a good size to give us enough time to get away." "How far would you need" "Oh, three hundred meters or more. We run very fast" he kept smiling.

Boon Me and Siphen put everything in perspective without even trying. Can you even imagine? Our parents told us not to go too far from the house so we could hear them call us for dinner. Boon Me's parents told him not to go too far because they weren't sure if there were bombs in the forest that could blow off a limb. Each rainy season when Siphen and her family take a break from school for rice planting she has to keep an eye on the bomb down the field.

 

 

 

Everywhere you look in Vietnam one is reminded of war. Wether it is the craters in the ground or the propaganda in the cities. Similarly Cambodia and Laos are riddled with craters, UXOs, and even landmines.

I want so badly to be able to wrap this up in a tidy life lesson or one liner that will be quoted for generations to come but I can't. I have the luxury of concerning myself with "safety" because frankly Boon Me and Siphen and thousands of other just like them can not. They are too busy getting on with their lives trying to put food on the table and live in the moment. So for now I will feel a little sad and maybe even frustrated but also grateful to live in a country that hasn't had war on its soil since 1812, that has carseats and enforced helmet laws. Most of all, I will keep these folks in mind the next time I am complaining about how there was a "just a little bit of pork," in my vegetarian fried rice.

If you aren't already overwhelmed with causes consider donating to one of these:

MAG Mines Advocacy Group is a not-for-profit organisation clearing landmines, UXO and other remnants of conflict in over thirty five countries worldwide.

COPE Cooperative Orthotic and Prosthetic Enterprise is a Laos run non-profit organisation that provides comprehensive rehabilitation services for UXO survivors.