A Country That's So Close and Yet So Far
"The dogs of Laos"
Hiromi Kimoto
September 17, 2001
The house across the street from us where the Laotian Vice-Minister for Foreign Affairs lives is huge. I still don't know exactly how many people and dogs live in that big house. There might be some chickens and ducks as well. We found out that the person living in that house was a high official of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs because my husband happened to have some business with him. We say "Hello" if we run into each other but we have no close relationship. When I gave them some longans from our garden, they gave in return coconuts and bananas from their garden. It seems that Laotians have no intention of actively associate with foreigners. Although the country has opened itself up financially, there still must be a tacit understanding that it's better to avoid having close relationships with foreigners in a socialist country with one-party rule.
Regardless of the living conditions, there are so many dogs everywhere that it makes me think that all Laotians own them. There are five (?) dogs at least in the house across the street, and every time a gate opens to let people or cars in and out three of them rush out and go searching around the neighborhood. When they tire of exploring, two of them just lie sprawled in front of the gate waiting for it to open. They don't even bark. The other one, however, puts its front paws on the closed gate with a scratching sound, and barks "Open up" as loud as it can. This being the case we never know if the dogs hanging around the neighborhood are stray dogs leading free lives or pet dogs with owners. All the dogs wear no collars around their necks and walk around slowly with a peaceful look. I heard that they also have one over at Simon's house.
Looking at these dogs my husband, who loves dogs, came up with the idea to buy one. So I asked Simon about it.
"Where can we buy a dog?"
"In Laos, we don't sell or buy dogs"
"But there are shops selling dogs in Thailand, right?"
"Maybe they do in Thailand, but we don't in Laos!!"
Simon looked annoyed.
Next in number to dogs are chickens and ducks. Yet you don't see any in big, rich-looking houses. I hate birds, so the first challenge for me in this place was to get used to chickens walking about here and there on the streets. Although I still close my eyes when walking near the chickens, my heart doesn't beat so fast anymore. Still, I'd almost faint dead away when I see people holding chickens in their arms,.
People in Laos all want to have a big house. That's not because a splendid house is proof of success but because they want to have their family and relatives together for dinner. Likewise they have a lot of children because the more the children, the more number of people taht will gather to enjoy their time together. Astonishingly, my Laotian teacher, Mr. Wantong, has eleven brothers and sisters. Simon has three. There are ten people living together at her house including herself, her husband, her father, and two children, and she cooks three kilograms of rice every day. Cousins and sisters are also living at the same place. Seeing how many big families there are I would have imagined that there would an overpopulation problem, but Laos has always had a small population so it's not a big deal at present. The average lifespan is fifty-four in Laos. There is a considerably high infant mortality rate in the mountain areas. It's not due only to the poor sanitary conditions and malnourishment but also to the mothers' lack of knowledge. Of course, the poor medical facilities are also a problem. Those who are relatively well-off often go across the river to Thailand when having a baby or being sick.
Translated by Maiko Noda
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