Thoughts from the rice paddy

This morning I went out into the fields and planted rice. Everyone kept asking me if I have ever planted rice and of course, I said no. I told the nayoke (sort of like the mayor) that I wanted to plant. He said okay. Then when I showed up at his house this morning, he was surprised. He didn't think I would actually do it. I mean why would the foreigner want to stand in the hot sun, barefoot in mud up to her knees, soaking wet, and bending over sticking rice into the ground? I wouldn't describe it as a fun experience, but one so worth while and genuine. When else am I going to have the chance to learn how to plant rice?

The nayoke and his wife own land and they pay workers 200 baht (about $6) a day, plus breakfast and lunch. He and his wife get out and work in the fields too. I would say about 70% of my village relies on rice as their main income. They work every day - no days off. It is hard work! I was out there just for the morning, but my back and knees were killing me.

When we got out into the fields the farmers were all thrilled I was there. I spoke my limited Laos with them and I swear I have friends for life. They absolutely loved that I was out there, interested in their livlihood.

Here's the thing though, this is their life and essentially they have no choice. I think of many of the kids at my pre-school, and how in 10-15 years, this will be their life too. Sure, a few manage to leave the village and go to college and get good jobs, but really, this is it. They also started drinking whiskey and beer around 9am. At first I was a little put off by this, but then I thought that if this was my life too, day in and day out with no end in sight, I would probably drink too. They weren't wasted drunk, but as they showed me how to plant I could certianly smell booze on their breath.

In the end, this was so eye opening and gave me a really interesting perspective on village life. I now know first hand what the majority of my village does every day. It's extremely hard work and I have so much more respect for my village. I came home covered in mud, hot, soaking wet, and exhausted. That's just another day for them.