COPE is a centre for the rehabilitation of those affected by Unexploded Ordnance (UXO). In many cases, simple things can make a huge difference to people’s lives, but one of the challenges is that they don’t know about it, so don’t seek help.
Per capita, Laos (People’s Democratic Republic of) is the most bombed country in the history of the world. Forty years after the war ended, its legacy is still all too clear.
In 1953, Laos PDR gained independence, but a civil war broke out the following year. Despite the Geneva Accord designating Laos a neutral territory with no military presence, the CIA covertly set up a military base in northern Laos. In 1964, despite no declaration of war, President Johnson launched a full-scale military offensive.
Their crime? Being neighbours with Vietnam. More specifically, bordering the HCM Trail which served as an arterial route. So, in order to “reduce North Vietnam” aggression, the US bombed Laos. Indiscriminately. According to one ex-pilot they were told to bomb anything that moved even though, by his own admission, they didn’t know what it was that was moving.
There were 580,000 bombing campaigns – that’s one every 8 minutes, 24 hours a day for 9 years. Over 2 million tons of ordnance fell on Laos during the Vietnam war, and it’s estimated that one third of it didn’t explode. That’s 80 million bombs potentially waiting to go off. It’s known as Unexploded Ordnance (UXO) and includes “all munitions and mines that have explosive, incendiary and pyrotechnic or gas filling which have not functioned as they were designed.”
Cluster bombs are a particular problem. A cluster bomb is a large canister dropped from a plane that opens and scatters small bombs (or “bombies” as they’re know in Laos):
Unfortunately, they have a high failure rate, leaving bomblets scattered over large swathes of the country posing an ever-present threat to civilians long after the conflict. Large bombs were also dropped.
Mapping the extent of UXO is an on-going task, but here are some best-estimated “facts”:
- whilst the major urban centres have been cleared, approximately 25% of villages in Laos are contaminated
- More than 50,000 people were killed or injured by UXO between 1964 and 2011
- About 40% of these were children
- One third of the land in Laos is thought to be contaminated with UXO
- It takes one team 10 days to clear an area 100m x 100m
- It is estimated that 84,000 square kilometres need clearing
- That means it’ll take one team (working every day of the year) 2,300 years to clear Laos
UXO is keeping Laos poor. People are, funnily enough, reluctant to undertake building or farming on uncleared land. So they can’t expand and generate more income. And, of course, as rain falls and land moves, so does the UXO.
“Bomb Harvest” was a fascinating documentary which followed an Australian munitions expert as he trained Laotian people to deal with UXO. “They dropped the bombs. They don’t belong to us and I want them to take them back,” said one boy who’d lost his friend to UXO. From the mouths of babes.
Earlier this year, the US pledged to increase funding to $15 million to support the dozen groups working in Laos on demining, victim assistance and risk education. Many other countries (including Britain, you’ll be pleased to know) have also provided funding.
So the Laotians just have to wait and, eventually, their country will be cleared, right? Wrong. It’s not that simple. Never is, is it? Firstly, the size of the problem is enormous (but as yet unquantified). And secondly, because the scrap metal in one of those large bombs will feed an entire family for three months, some Laotians proactively hunt for it, foraging in the countryside sometimes even using metal detectors. One third failed to explode, but that means two thirds did. And of the unexploded bombs, not all will be live. Imagine finding one of those babies and leaving it alone, only to see your neighbour safely take it away and sell it for scrap. Forage for food for a day, or forage for metal that’ll keep you for weeks or even months? The price of scrap metal makes the risk worth it. When a bomb is found and disposed of, the community have mixed feelings. I’ll never forget the look on the young girl’s face as she watched a large bomb being carried away: distress, disbelief, longing, confusion as the gold nugget was taken from them.
Have you ever seen those pictures of a tree that’s grown to be part of a house? How foreign objects have been incorporated into and consumed by the environment around them? In the same way, scrap metal from the bombs has become integrated into the Laotian’s lives. From cutlery and cooking utensils, to garden gates and prosthetic limbs (poignantly, often required because of a UXO accident), metal left over from the war provides another material for these practical, resourceful people.
So organisations also work to curb the scrap metal trade, and educate local people. Not only do they need to find and make the UXO safe, they need to do it before the local people get to it.
The end of the documentary summed it up, and brings tears to my eyes even as I type it now: “Some legacies must end so others can begin.”
Colour. That’s the first thing that hits you when you go into this temple:
It felt more alive, with people (and animals and cars (in fact, lots and lots of cars)), going about their lives. And then I noticed the strings coming from a group service. It took a little while for me to work out (the sunlight made it difficult to trace their course) that the strings were going from the worshippers’ wrists to their car steering wheels:
Inside the central temple (or “sim” as it’s called), the walls and ceiling were ornately decorated:
Monks were performing rituals on paying worshippers. It involved throwing water from a long-haired “brush” (well, not exactly a brush, but a serious of thin, wooden strands – they may have been concertinaed), over their bowed head whilst chanting. A short length of cord was then placed ceremoniously round their wrist, tied and the loose ends cut off. I’m not entirely sure of the significance, I’m afraid – another example of when knowing the language would have enhanced my understanding:
Hampers were also on offer, including a torch (?!):
Another emerald Buddha – they’re actually pretty impressive in the “flesh”:
Cats have really short tails here. Not sure whether it’s the breed, or whether they cut them off when they’re kittens:
And this very pretty bug took a liking to my T-shirt (this quite accurately sums up the state of my T-shirt – it attracts bugs):
The “Palais Presidential” was a presidential palace. I’m guessing he/she lives there because the gates were closed and guarded, so a photo of this rather impressive building from outside will have to suffice:
Back at the hostel, I prepared for my sleeper bus to Pakse. I was assured that this one had flat beds (I wasn’t going to go through the Vietnam experience again), and the photos actually made it look reasonably comfortable. What they failed to tell me was that you only get one half of the bed. Cramped was an understatement. And spooning with a stranger is too much, too soon. As the ticket was cheap and bed itself actually quite comfortable, I decided that I’d do it again… but would buy both beds!
