On the day after Christmas, I received a phone call at 3 am (Switzerland time). I stood up
half-asleep and confused. I took the call, but the person had already hanged
up. I saw in the receiver the code for Laos (856...) and a couple of days
later, I called the number and found out who it was: Deejay, one of the former
students at the school where I worked. We have occasionally exchanged some
emails and I am always surprised by the improvements he has made with English
and IT stuff. Back in 2011, he barely knew what was Internet about. Now, he
also has a Facebook account and has befriended my husband. Upon his insistence,
I gave him my telephone number last time we met. I explained him it was rather
expensive to place an international call, but he promised he would only call in
case of emergency.
As I suspected,
there was no urgency; he only wanted to wish me a happy Christmas. We both
laughed about the incident; he had no idea about the time difference. I told
him I would soon be back in Laos and that I would like to hear about his first
semester doing law. Deejay is 19 years old and is one of the few kids from
a rural milieu who have managed to pursue his aspiration of going to
university, albeit not without great difficulty for his family, who had to pay
his way through --bribes (and/or family networks) are a frequent "solution" to
the obstacles for access in the government-led education system.
During New Year's,
Deejay sent me this email:
Date: 31. Dezember 2013 09:33:10 GMT+7
Subject: Re: more pictures...
Dear Gilda how are you ? Happy New year !!!!!! For new year I wish
you and your family have new thing and new life . good luck to come to Lao
again!!!! In the New year i wish I want to have Iphone 4 because my phone
proken !!! hahaha just funy Welcome to Lao 2014 I miss you soooo much My exam
is good Dear ....
He was not
completely kidding about the iPhone. For other young people his age, acquiring
cash to purchase smart phones or imitation versions of iPhone is a frequently
expressed desire, and many, even those with low family incomes, act
upon it. This time around, within the lapse of only one day, I coincidentally
heard or had conversations with village youngsters, who have recently bought a
new phone or whose short-term objective is to find a salaried job so they can
buy one. Most of these teenagers are still engaged in subsistence farming with
their families, but most have been exposed to salaried work at either the
plantations in their villages, in towns or villages in other Laotian provinces,
or elsewhere in Thailand. When not employed for farming tasks, men are mostly
engaged with construction work; and women are usually employed as domestic
workers (cleaners, cookers) for families or private companies. In most
instances, migration is temporary for these youngsters often express a feeling
of homesickness for their village life, which is described as
"easier". While indeed working for one own's family farm does not
require inspection of working hours/days nor rendering an expected (instructed)
outcome, having a salary has led to some financial autonomy --as they can
decide how much money they will keep for themselves and what they will do with
it. For some youngsters, especially the eldest sons and daughters, this
autonomy might be constrained due to structural conditions of poverty and other
social norms, which make them feel responsible for their parents and/or younger
siblings. Yet, in most cases, having a salary has meant that they can satisfy
some of their personal desires, which are frequently short-term and mostly
associated to the acquisition of consumer goods. Performances of autonomy are
played out in a social setting where interactions with other peers inform and
influence their consumption choices. In all villages I've visited in southern
Laos, this has resulted in a lifestyle where certain symbols and items of
modernity are placed at the top of the 'wanting list'. One of these items is
the smart phone.
Situation No. 1
This January
(2014) I went to visit other former students in their village. Two of them, Mr.
Een and Mr. Joy, were at home that day and they joined me on the search of Ms.
Sout, who was working at her family's farm, situated farther away from the
village. We drove our motorbikes through a narrow and bumpy 4-kilometer dirt
road, surrounded by uncountable rows of rubber trees from the Yao Tien
plantation. I kept on wondering whether we would finally reach a clearing from
where to devise any sort of farming land. Finally, we arrived. Her farming land
was breathtaking. It was like arriving into an oasis: a little spot that has
managed to keep some life, varieties of green, sunlight and water, just a few
steps away from a gigantic rubber shadowy desert. Her family's three-hectare
land is right next to the river. On the other side of the river, there is a
patch of secondary forest. Her land includes a rice paddy field, a garden for
seasonal vegetables and a small house to rest, cook and eat. As all families in
the area, their diet is complemented by non-timber forest products: edible
plants, seeds, roots, bamboo shoots, wild fruits, vegetables, fish and
whichever animals they can find in the remaining forest (usually small rodents,
as bigger animals are rarely found these days).
As we stare and
admire Sout's land, Bo Hu, who had come with me, cuts a bunch of leaves and
starts eating them. He shares some with me (quite tasty), and then expresses in
amazement: "This land is very good; they have found a good place
here". I ask Sout's mother whether the rubber company has tried to claim
this land as well. She thinks they cannot, and will not do it, because they
have certificates for it and have paid taxes. We all sit inside the farm house
and catch up while preparing some food. When I ask Een and Joy what they have
been up to, they tell me last year they went to work together for a company in
Savanakhet province. Joy was making bricks; Een was digging holes for water
pumps. They were both engaged for only one month. Joy was expecting to earn
around 1 million kip per month, but his salary was based on how many bricks he
could produce and the machine went broken for a week. In the end, Joy earned
around 800,000 kip, and Een got 1 million kip.
PARENTHESIS
1 million kip per
month = 125 USD
1 bag of sticky
rice (50 kilos) costs 240,000 kip = 30 USD
According to a
family of 8 members (2 parents, 6 children), they need about 2.5 rice bags per
month, 600,000 kip = 75 USD
Sticky rice is for
Laotians what corn is for Mexicans.
END OF PARENTHESIS
I ask Een and Joy
whether they gave the money to their families. Joy smiles and takes out a phone
from his pocket. "I bought this... (giggles)... it costed 600,000
kip". He gave the rest to his family --a household of 6 members. Een
bought jeans and t-shirts worth 300,000 kip and gave the remainder to his
(slightly larger than Joy's) family. He wishes that next time he can also buy a
"cool phone" but he knows his family is in need of the money. Joy
stated his parents were not mad at him when he showed them his new phone:
"They said it was up to me". From other conversations I have held
with parents, I have come to realise that most are hopeful but do not expect
that their children will support them with the money they get from salaried
work. The output of the labour they provide within their household farming is
shared by all, but their salaries are theirs and they can therefore decide.
Comparatively speaking, unmarried daughters usually give more of their salaries
to their families, and on a more frequent basis, than unmarried sons do.
Situation No. 2
A good while into
our conversation, I notice Sout's husband, Vilay, has been filming us.
PARENTHESIS
Sout was about 16
years old when she got married in 2012. I have always thought she looked
younger than that, but who knows... What is certain is that she did not want to
get married, but her parents were socially bound and seemed to need the money
that the groom's family offered (another long story). Vilay was about 19/20
years old. On my last visit, they did not look unhappy to me.
END OF PARENTHESIS
Vilay is holding a
phone in front of his face and he is smiling at us. Bo Hu asks if he can see
the phone; he stares at it and says: "I want to have the same!" Sout
and Vilay had recently changed their old phone because it was broken: "My
husband's brother works in Thailand and last time he came for a visit, he gave
us his old phone; he bought a new one for him". With this precious gift,
they could not only take pictures, but also make and see videos, download
larger music files from the Internet (it is accesible at a fairly cheap price
using their simcards), and transfer files using Bluetooth. Then, I started
thinking I must be aging or totally averse to IT stuff, for I know half of the
things they know about these smart phones. I tell them: "You see, I still
have the same phone for two years now, it is even more broken than before but
it still works". They stare at it with surprise: "You still have the
same!" They all laugh, then they say the reason why it probably still
works is obvious: "a real iPhone must be so good that even broken, it
works". Since that day, Bo Hu has systematically asked me to consider
buying a new iPhone, so that I can give my old one to him. Everyday, we laugh
about it, but I know he is serious behind the joke.
Situation No. 3
On our way back to
Pakse, I found out that Lum, who still is staff at the school (hence former
colleague of mine), was in Pakse showcasing some organic products as part of a
project that the school has with another NGO. We meet and chat in a restaurant,
where she tells me her recent marriage is not going as expected.
PARENTHESIS
Since I met her in
2011, Lum has been fiercely wanting to get married. With 22 years of age (at
that time), people in her village considered her already too old for marriage.
She “got lucky” and got married in November last year.
END OF PARENTHESIS
A month ago she
had a fight with her husband that ended up violently. There is a bruise in her
left eye that is still visible. Before I can express my reaction, she abruptly
redirects the conversation into an unexpected topic. She rapidly mentions that
since her husband has also broken her phone during the fight, she had gone
buying a new one. "Look!" She takes it out of her purse and displays
it proudly. Bo Hu, who is with us, smiles but has a gaze of disappointment. His
facial expression is somewhere between feeling pity for her situation and/or
frustrated to be the only one around without a new phone.
She starts showing
me some of the pictures she has taken with it: photos of her with different
hairdos, with make-up and posing; she looks very different from the shy girl
that I know. There are also some pictures of Thai soap opera actors and
actresses. "I spent almost a month's salary to buy this... but I don't
care... I really wanted to buy it. I also wanted to make him angry". For
her, buying an expensive new phone with their shared household income accounted
for some sort of revenge. She paid for it 800,000 kip, which means they only
had around 400,000 kip in cash to get by for one month. For the time being, her
husband does not have a salaried job; both of them do farming in a small
plot of land. I do not enquire on her plans to finish secondary school, which
was what she had told me last time I saw her.
Certain judgmental
thoughts invade my mind: Why she did not act on her education plans? Why not saving
for that instead? Why not buying a cheaper phone? I remain silent and come to
realise that the aspiration that weighted more for her was getting married and
follow the lifestyle that many other peers in her situation (with a regular or
temporary salaried job) are fulfilling. For most rural Lao and non-Lao women
(ethnic minorities), marriage entails a new chapter in their lives where the
continuation of studies is not considered. A common reply I get from women in
the villages on whether studying is or has been one of their 'wants' throughout
their life (and whether it can be achieved) is: "Yes, but I am already
married" or "Yes, but I will get married soon". This comes to
reify previous scholarly and empirical work (Appadurai 2004, Marcours and Vakis
2009, Ibrahim 2010) in which social structures and norms are decisive in the
formation and attainment of individual aspirations. In certain contexts these
norms come before anything else. But even then, as other changes sweep in,
spaces for negotiated positions gradually arise, as is the case with
consumption and other non-traditional roles and behaviour.
To
conclude: please check out this video, entitled “Girl iPhone 5” (URL below). I
would say it is an exaggerated version of reality, but according to Bo Hu, not so
far from it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yl6CC6Q68TU
