I have always wanted to come to Laos, and it is only on this time-squeezed holiday season that I have managed to do so. The first thing that really strikes me is how young this nation is. Children abound everywhere, and they are a precious sight. Most live in a poverty but not impoverished state. Meaning - they grow old too fast performing adult tasks and probably will never experience the childhoods entitled to children of developed nations. And yet, there is something extremely endearing about these children. With the abundance of water from the Mekong, Laos is teeming with fresh produce. Starvation is not something they need to worry about and with the hefty weight of sticky rice - every child runs around with snot dribbling down their face, ball of sticky rice in hand and performing chores in the sand with the other. 

At first, one came…then MANY!

We bought these basic Lao/ English children’s books to distribute to the village children. Douglas learning how to say Pig in Lao. Support Big Brother Mouse, the non-profit organization that started this scheme in Laos.

The usual work tasks for young children given by their parents cover everything from bird trapping - they then sell bird freeing services for US$1. Some of these birds are actually ducks so they don’t fly too well. I would say, pick your bird well.

Our fearless bird-catchers

Other common tasks include selling trinkets, braclets, provisions etc. Most common are the tasks for young girls whose formal assignment is to manage their young brothers and sisters, barely babies themselves, they evidently have the muscle, strength and intelligence to coddle and care for young ones.

The young Hmong and Khmu village children we met all learnt adult tasks by watching their parents, older siblings and relatives. The one scary thing is when 2 year olds start waving their machetes around, cutting down twigs and hitting the blunt ends of the machetes on their fellow playmates as a form of childlike fun, even I had to edge away cautiously. It’s horrifying - imagine the kind of chargrin that a Western parent would face?

Cute as hell…and then…

Machete Hmong!

And like all children…they dance, they laugh, they cry. They love looking at foreign objects (us) and they love cameras. Unlike the money-grabbing children of Morroco, the village children of Laos find camera lenses and while they do not speak English and frankly, most didn’t even speak Lao, only their native Hmong or Khmu dialects, they gladly posed their little hearts out for us. It was awesome!

A game of Tops

All smiles…

Education in the bigger villages begin at 8 and finish at 15. A large proportion are married by 18 or so. By then, these young adults know all about growing produce, harvesting, animal/ farm management and how to make babies. In my conversations with our guide Pitt, he went to school for 7 years and I did a quick count which ended up with somewhere around the region of 15 years, 17 if kindergarten is counted and felt seriously overeducated, but privileged.

We all recognise the importance of education to the developmental status of a country, and its intrisic tie to the wealth of a nation. And it also brings to mind if this so-called Western standard of ‘child labour’ is indeed something that is valid. Given an economically viable task, these children would be able to buy meat and perhaps educate themselves in the future. They are already performing unpaid economic work, so is it so bad that they make Nike shoes in a factory? It’s a broad discussion that involves understanding trade-offs. Live in poverty and play in the dirt like a child, or receive $3 for a day’s work? Or worst, get drafted into the wrongful child sex trade? I wonder if presented with an argument of working in a factory (of course in humane conditions and say for 15-20 hours a week, it should still be considered part-time work), what would the choices of these children or even their parents?

Certainly, education is still not highly prized in Laos - outside the over-intellecualized French influence in Vientiane. Production is still the main form of life and rightfully so. Developing countries all go through that stage. Education is the right of a rich man, it’s probably a frivolity for the rest.

Classroom conditions in a Hmong village

Hard at work…with geometry rules stuck on back - anyone remembers how to calculate the perimeter of a paralleogram?

Before you think moi ran the marathon, let me begin by saying…I did not. I was the cheering groupie with camera in tow to capture the best sweaty sights. While Douglas decided to do his yearly marathon, I did my personal best - 4km mini run/ jog/ drag walk while waiting for him to finish out his 3hr run.

Sitting around marathon grounds is awful. It’s sunny, it’s hot, it’s got 40,000 sweaty beings plus family cheerleading squads, there is the dj playing the best of backstreet boys and other energetic music that keeps the crowd pumping. Ambulances are rushing in and out of the ER with the injured, the hyperventilated; children are screaming.

Having said all that, it’s festive and there is nothing quite like feeling the sore, and relishing in the accomplishment of beating the unbeatable - one’s mind. I did want to sneak a freebie at the Massage tent, poor sods who would have to rub down dirt-ladden runners with plastic surgical gloves. THAT, truly is a horrid job, and I can’t imagine if I had to do that. Thank god I have a job

Parade of runners against the jewel of Singapore’s economy - the financial district.

  The look of a winner! smelly too! yikens!

Winners that deserve a crown…smug as hell too!

I finally understand how partners at Insead must have struggled through. This insular crazy world of dress up parties, networking and intense discussions on Newsboy models must have come off difficult and frankly, unnecessary to the average normal. Dating a marathoner/ sports person is somewhat the same experience. I now know all there is to know about diets, tracking run patterns, body reparation techniques and the toughest to master, but the easiest to know: Discipline (of which i have little, since i am always weak with Hello Pandas…or KFC :(… ) ah well, that’s why i am not a marathon runner. And if all goes well, I may break the 10km mark one day…

thank god, life is made up of numerous "one days"….hahaha.