Thousands of megalithic stone jars lie distributed in the mountainous expanse of Xieng Khouang, one of the poorest provinces in Lao. The widely-dispersed population mostly consists of indigenous tribal groups engaged in “subsistence agriculture” (a phrase, of course, that means they farm in order to eat, with little left over to sell). It’s also one of the most heavily bombed areas on the planet. Poverty and war go hand-in-hand… but let’s talk about the jars first:
- Fifty jar sites identified so far
- Clusters of one to four hundred jars
- Thought to date from “1st millennium BC/AD” (I don’t entirely know what this means, but I think it means they’re really, really old)
- Lie on a key trade route between eastern India, southern China, north and central Vietnam and the Khorat Plateau
- First scientific study in 1930s by a Frenchwoman called Colani
- Five different types of stone have been identified as being used to make the “jars” with sandstone the most popular (because it’s easy to work?)
First stop was the inspiringly-named “Jar Site 1”:
And the visitor centre’s bumper crop of UXO:
We missed the cave the first time round. So we all went back again! It was pretty impressive:
… but it was the nest and honeycomb on the rock outside that stole the show:
The precise function of the jars is unknown, but limited excavation indicates they played a “central funerary role “in the unknown prehistoric culture. Legend also has it that they were made to hold rice wine in celebration of a king’s victory over an oppressor in C5/6. Local Khmu, who are believed to be the ancestors of those who made the stone jars, say that they are the cups of giants. Some villagers believe ghosts roam among the jars and are reluctant to disturb them. As with any unknown, people make things up to suit the version of events they like the most! However, having seen the information centres and the various archaeological finds, Colani’s theory that people were buried along with their treasures to smooth the path to the next life seems a fairly sound explanation.
Collection management is, well, challenging. Widely dispersed and exposed to the elements, the jars are the victims of visitor abuse (you can touch them and walk over them – they’ve no protection) and looting. The sites are often difficult to access, so are difficult to police. Standing among the jars in the predictably-named “Jar Site 2”, the isolated location and lack of tourists made for an incredible atmosphere.
Many who make the effort are disappointed, but I knew what I was going to see: lots of old urns of varying shapes and sizes. It was the setting that made it special. UNESCO status has been applied for, which will encourage funding and tourism. But it’s a double-edged sword: UNESCO funding will enable them to better preserve and protect the jars for future generations, but it’ll also mean bus loads of tourists (along with the buildings and commerce that inevitably follows them). I’m glad I saw it now.
ICT (Information and Communication Technology) is being used to map the site: a basic grid is placed over the site; every cultural feature is mapped by coordinates, photographed and inventoried in detail; the data is geo-coded into a wider information context; and data are then collated in a relational database management system (RDBMS), which is directly linked to the map. Different layers can be viewed: topographic maps; provincial and district boundaries; villages, roads, paths and rivers; satellite imagery; forest cover and geology maps.
It also integrates information generated by bomb disposal agencies of the cleared “safe” sites, along with data from B52 bomber strikes between 1963 and 1974. Tourists are advised not to stray off the beaten track, and markers show where is safe – stay between the white markers:
UXO may prevent UNESCO status being awarded, yet another legacy of the bombings.
Another obligatory stop (actually, it was a private tour with a really great bunch of people so we could do whatever we liked, but it seemed a shame to miss it) was the rusty Russian tank:
Looking so peaceful in its new home, it was difficult to imagine the horror and destruction of which it was a part.
Then we learnt how lao lao is made. Firstly, the rice is fermented with yeast and water for ten days:
The liquid is then boiled and the condensation collected.
Voila, rice wine. Or whisky. Or whatever category it falls into. I didn’t like, but I don’t like alcohol, so probably not the best judge. But at 40% ABV, it’s not to be messed with.
Tribal rituals are important here, and houses can tell you which tribe they belong to. No windows were a feature of this tribe, which must actually keep them quite cool in the heat:
Progress, progress. Concrete houses were being built in front of the windowless wooden huts:
Pau, our driver, then threw in a freebie: the viewpoint overlooking Phonsavan:
Complete with more building and scaffolding:
And then a visit to the MAG centre. Most of it you already know, but it was interesting to see that they work to reduce the trade in scrap metal.
Finally, I’m particularly pleased with my bug of the day today: a praying mantis on one of the jars, which actually looked like it was enjoying the attention – I swear it was posing for the camera:
