Getting famous is all about who you know...

Fact: more than half the world’s population – 3 billion – live on less than $2 per day. Recently we were privileged to spend the night with some of them. On our trip to Southeast Asia we’ve traveled up into the northern Laos city of Luangprabang, from where we arranged a 3 day trek. Day one was spent visiting one of several Hmong villages that dot the countryside beyond the city.

There is no road there – only a motorized tractor makes the trip. All the villagers walk to get to the next village, where the handful of high school kids who are not needed at home can get an education. It’s a 3 hour walk one way, and they do it every day. Except for one poor kid we met who’d just chopped her foot with an axe while cutting wood, leaving a slash 3 inches wide and a half an inch deep – she’ll be waiting a week to walk to school. (We gave her our first aid supplies, which I fear were inadequate for the wound.) All the children are universally dirty, clothed in dirt-colored hand me downs from other countries that may or may not be complete, and are barefoot. Mom and Dad are always working, so this is a very self-reliant bunch. Furthermore, to a person, they are sweet tempered and excited to see you … they immediately melt your heart.

All of the children here work … except for the babies. I mean, the four year olds even work – they take care of the babies. I found one enterprising 4 year old with a baby tied to his back, brandishing an 8 inch dagger which he was using to make ‘a car’ out of a bamboo stump. Every child, particularly the girls, is put to work as early as humanly possible. So at day’s end, when our son produced a ‘takraw’ ball – a rattan equivalent to a small soccer ball, he immediately drew a handful of young boys to his side. They played and played, and then the girls got into the act, playing as well – and laughing with adult embarrassment at how bad they were. Until a parent appeared and then the girls scurried back to work, sweeping, cooking, cleaning, hauling water, tending gardens, etc.

We slept in a rattan hut on what must have been their very best covers – comforters decorated with teddy bears and old bean sack pillows. Tourists like us come nearly every night to stay now, and this is the ‘guest house’. Our guide, a college educated Lao named Gao, leads people here through an organization called Tiger Trails (http://www.laos-adventures.com/) , which promotes ‘Fair Trek’ eco-tourism. 40% of the fee raised by this group goes to helping the villagers make the transition from raising opium to just raising rice. Opium was outlawed by the Laos government seven years ago, ending a centuries-old form of farming. Apparently it is working as surveys indicate the production is down more than 80%. Few farmers smoked apparently, but enough that it was considered a scourge.

After an afternoon of thoroughly distracting the Lao kids, we retired to our corner hut for dinner prepared by Gao – stir fried water buffalo and the ever present ‘sticky rice.’ This rice is sooooo sticky! You can pick it up in little clumps and not lose a grain. It’s the staple food of most Southeast Asians, who seldom eat meat and eat sticky rice three times per day. Which would explain why we haven’t seen a single overweight person in this country, except for all us tourists, of course.

That night the chief, an official man in a green shirt, called a meeting of the village of 600 for after dark. Many assembled just up the way from us (think up the dirt path to another rattan house, this one with a wooden floor and decorate prayer flags.) As we did our best to sleep on the unaccustomed hard ground, our new neighbors chatted, laughed and thoroughly discussed whatever they were meeting about into the night. Apparently this is a group who can work hard, and relax with vigor. It seemed like an amazingly content group with a strong work ethic, a friendly manner despite all the tourists who traipse through their world, and genuine love for each other.

We won’t forget our night spent in their village anytime soon. In some ways this was the most important part of our trip, as we wanted our son to see how so much of the rest of the world lives – and he is. He left saying ‘I want to live in a village like this someday.” He too recognized it as ultimately a loving, content place, even with apparent hardship.