Akha Hill Tribe

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Right: Stopping for a smoke The Akha are a group which originated somewhere in Tibet and now live in mountainous areas of China (Yunnan), Thailand, Laos and Myanmar. Their language is "Akha" a member of the Tibeto-Burman language family and related to the languages of the Lisu and Lahu tribes. The Akha I met in Laos were very shy and few would permit the taking of photographs. After a few laolao went down I was however able to procure a few shots as the locals loosened up a bit.

Opium

I was fully aware that I might encounter opium on my travels in Northern Laos though tracking some down wasn't high on my list of priorities. It so happens I was offered opium on a number of occasions whilst in Vietnam and Laos. The Hmong women in Sapa were peddling stuff which I was informed by one of the guides was probably heroin or in any case not very pure. In Vang Vieng and Luang Prabang I was also offered opium on a few occasions by shady looking guys around dusk, speaking in hushed tones, also offering to introduce me to women. This was an avenue I was not particularly interested in taking. There is a definite risk factor involved as the Laos government takes a fairly dim view of foreigners taking drugs, opium dens get raided from time to time, and of course there's always the possibility of getting robbed. I was quite happy to partake whilst in the jungle, however (purely out of anthropological considerations, you understand!).

Right: Akha woman at work Nearby the chief's residence one of the villagers was showing some other locals the contents of his tobacco tin. He offered some to me at the rate of 4000Kip/pipe. I hesitated for a second and the price immediately dropped to 3000Kip. I agreed to four pipes and accompanied him back to his place. I got a clear message not to tell the others (except Patrick, that would be OK!).

I suspect it was our guide more than the village chief that he wanted kept in the dark. Thongchan, our guide, was a clean-cut young university student. As a Phu Noi from Phongsali I'm sure he is aware of what goes on in the jungle, though in his capacity as a guide, he is a government employee and there would no doubt be a direct conflict of interest. It's a very different situation to Thailand where many of the guides are themselves addicts, and treks are often sold on the basis that the tourist might get a chance to smoke some opium.

Left: Dinner time I agreed to four pipes because I didn't want to get too wobbly, though by the time we got to four it seemed like five was a nice round number. At number six my friend suggested seven pipes for a nice round 20,000 kip, giving me a 1000 kip discount for the last one. Hard to argue with that logic (particularly after six pipes). There was a bunch of local kids standing around giggling as I got wasted, a bad example no doubt, but I'm sure they've seen it before.

After I paid the man he offered me a couple of glasses of laolao and a cup of tea, then excused himself to sit with his family in the other room. He implied that I was welcome to stay as long as I liked. I should mention that there was no English spoken in all of this, it was smatterings of French and Lao padded out with generous dabbings of body language. The Lao language is very similar to Thai and the numbers are pretty much identical.

Right: Akha Village I was pretty hammered and for a sum marginally less than US$2.00. This was considerably cheaper than what I'd paid in Thailand some seven years earlier. The opium seemed a lot stronger than I remembered too. When I composed myself I ventured outside. As my motor skills were somewhat impaired at this point, I decided to rest on a bank at the back of the village untill I felt ready to rejoin the group. By the time I got up there the rolling TV effect had set in, time to stop moving for a bit.........

When the world stopped spinning I noticed a bunch of kids and young women at the bottom of the hill. I waved and they waved back so I went down to say hello.

Right: Akha beauty I was hoping to get a photo as the Akha women are very picturesque in their tribal gear, but they wouldn't let me unless I could give them the copies. It was impossible to explain that the image was inside my camera and though I could show them the images on the LCD there was no way to give them a copy, so no picture. I can only asume someone had been through the village with polaroids at some stage. What can you do? Body language will only get you so far.

I was unable to get many shots of the Akha, but after a few glasses of laolao some were more comfortable with it. When I returned to the chief's hut the banquet was in progress and as the laolao went down I was able to procure a few shots. despite my somewhat impaired state I managed to maintain a modicum of normalcy though I did nearly step into the fire at one point. Later outside the local kids were buzzing around with flashlights.

One kid was very interested in the images I had stored on my camera. We got to an MPEG of some kids playing ratan ball in the Khamu village. I said to Patrick, "Watch this kid freak!" When I pushed the start button and the picture started to move he jerked his head back about a foot, wide-eyed, yelled something before thrusting his face back into the LCD monitor and then running off to tell his mates. Sure enough they were shortly all over me. Priceless.

Left: Laolao, tobacco, food and good company. I don't think I slept at all that night though I had those waking dreams with all the weird imagery. Eventually I gave up trying to sleep my way through a Salvador Dali painting and spent the rest of the night outside on the back porch stargazing. Curiously, even though I didn't sleep a wink I felt totally refreshed the next day and the four or five hour hike down to the Nam Ou (River) was not at all taxing.

We took a boat downstream to Hat Sa where we boarded a truck for Phongsali. We didn't leave until there were about 50 people on the truck. I'm sure there's a place in Hell reserved for bus drivers and ticket vendors, at least I hope there is!

Back in Phongsali, a sign outside the museum reads........rule number 6.....

"FORBID MAD MAN AND ANY DRUNKAND TO COME INTO THE MUSEUM"

Maybe it's a bit of a problem around those parts.

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