Project Phongsali 2011: Muang May will be our base for now.
We'll be working in several villages this year but we decide to begin in Muang May. We found a vacant house to rent so for the time being we don't need to pitch our tent.
Week Three
Day Fifteen:
For two weeks, Yai and I have tramped around the southern-most districts of Phongsali province, interviewing people and inspecting problem ordnance to determine which locales are most in need of help. Now that we have a clear vision of where we’ll work, it’s time to find a place to call home from home. Vilasak and the de-miners are on their way north from Vientiane, by bus, and should arrive tomorrow, so it’s time to fish or cut bait in regard to selecting a campsite.
Since our own arrival, Yai and I have been living in inexpensive guesthouses (never more than six bucks a night for a double room). But, after the team arrives, we’ll need accommodation for seven people and storage for a heap of equipment.
We have with us a spacious Vietnamese army tent that can easily accommodate our full team and all our gear. On past projects, I’ve lived in that tent for months at a time; but this trip, I’m just not eager to use it.
In the first place, there’s the necessity of searching the land under the tent in case any ordnance is lurking there. Without proper clearance, we can’t pound tent pegs, build cooking fires, or dig trash pits and latrines — there goes half a workday, or more. After that, actually pitching the tent and building sleeping platforms will easily occupy another half day. Every time we move the tent to a new location, all that work must be repeated. All in all, I just don’t want to spend precious time setting up and tearing down a camp — time that could be devoted to clearing villages of UXO.
Instead, Yai and I decided to rent a vacant house that we stumbled upon here in Muang Mai. It’s small, but still more spacious than the tent. It’s a bit derelict, but should serve us well for the short time we’ll need it. Its roof will leak for sure, but this is the dry season so rain’s unlikely. If by chance we are dealt an unexpected storm, our equipment will be more secure within its walls than inside a canvas tent.
There’s a water tap inside the house and a toilet nearby. The house doesn’t have a kitchen but there’s room in the yard for a cooking fire, table and chairs. All in all, the location has everything we’ll need for safety, comfort and hygiene. I haven’t budgeted for house rental, but thirty-six bucks for a full month’s rent won’t break the bank.
If I need one additional benefit to justify this indulgence, it’s the added security that a locked door will provide our possessions while we are out working in the countryside.
Today, Yai is busy cleaning the house, transferring equipment, setting up beds, and repairing the shutters on a couple of windows. He’s enthusiastic over the choice, so I’m hopeful that the de-miners, who this year are all women from a small village down south, will also find it acceptable. (Every time I raise an issue about comfort, Yai tells me, “Don’t worry. These are village girls!”)