20. The Waiting Day Arrives

The Waiting Day Arrives

Nhai carried a fourteen month old baby, jumping along the small road paved with broken bricks. She also sang songs with loud intermixed with low voice. Then, she stopped under a Kok Ta Kop tree and was thinking;"People might think I am mad.  I already have a family. Why do I still jump up and down like a teenager? Come on, Nhai! You are the head of the explosives recovery team, why would you act like this?"

Nhai and her baby sat down on a wooden bench in the middle of the yard. She looked into the sky above the Kok Ta Kop tree, which was covered with green leaves. She watched the clouds that floated around in the blue sky, pushed by the wind. 

All this made her think back six years ago, when she and her family lost her mother, a respected elder member. That was in the middle of June, under a clear sky. Nhai was carrying a food bag across the north side of the rice field when the blast of a bomb explosion was heard coming from the west. Water particles were flying in the air, amidst smokes that covered the whole bamboo forest.

Nhai frozed on the spot, but tried to direct her eyes to the area on fire and emitting strong smells. She was wondering if her father had detonated a bomb to clear up bamboo trees at the edge of the rice field and make more room available for farming. She tried to walk faster toward the edge of the rice field.  But, oh my God, when she got to within less than a few footsteps of the site of the explosion, she saw her father holding her mother and crying.  

"Nhai, your mother got hit by a ‘bombie’! Go home quickly and tell Uncle Pheng to bring a motor cycle here to take her mother to the hospital."

Her legs fainted on the spot. Nhai sobbed with a voice that could be heard throughout the whole rice field. She managed to touch her mother who was covered with blood. Both of her mother’s legs were broken, and portions of her intestines popped up from her stomach, covered with dark red blood.

"Please help my mother. She got hit by a bomb".

This loud voice asking for help resonated throughout the rice field and was heard by the other villagers working in the area. Those folks dropped their hand tools and rushed in to the site of the accident.  But, alas, after being carried halfway through the rice field, her mother couldn’t resist the crucifying pain and died.

The funeral for Nhai’s mother was performed at the village’s remote temple.  Relatives came from everywhere to pay their last respect to the deceased. Crying and moaning was the common practice; people were commiserating and openly blaming the unexploded ordnances, “Oh! How many more people will die because of ordnances?" Many funeral attendants had tears running down their cheeks.

Nhai walked in slowly and sat on her knees next to her mother’s coffin. Her eyes turned to a 25 by 30 centimeter photo of her mother.  In her hand were some burning perfume sticks. She cried and in the end managed to utter a few words,

"My dear mother! If your soul is alive, please help all of us to stay safe from danger.  I don’t know what to do now that you are gone!” She couldn’t do anything more other than crying with great pain and sorrow.

Her baby cried and waked her up from her sad dream.  She stood up, dried her tears, looked at her baby, and said,

“Cha! Cha! Go back to sleep in the cradle!”

Nhai hung the cradle to a branch of Kok Ta kop tree and moved it around with the baby inside.

“Close your eyes, I will sing to put you to sleep.  I will wash your diapers and wrap them around you. Eu! Eu! Close your eyes.” She went through the same motion several times until the baby felt asleep.

Nhai then went to the kitchen, placed some firewood under the soup pan, and returned to sit at the same bench. By that time, the sky turned from blue to dark as if the rain was on its way. Nhai looked to the west and saw a couple of birds flying east. This type of weather reminded her of the first day she went in to apply for the ordnances collector job, which was also the day she experienced her first disappointment in life. Various derisive words were used by the villagers about her job application, such as “A woman who doesn’t behave like a woman, way too ambitious to apply for an ordnances collector job. She should be ashamed of herself. Who is going to hire her? Plus, she barely has an education.”

Her father once told her at dinner, “I think you should withdraw your application, Nhai. This is becoming shameful. You can apply for a different job.”

“I can’t.  I must apply and re-apply if I have to, as long as they advertized for ordnances collector jobs. One day, they will endorse me,” she said with her eyes looking down to the floor and forcing saliva down her throat.

The third spring after her mother’s death, Nhai was still thinking about trying to become an ordnances collector. The thing she always remembered was the day she was asked to go in for the interview.

“Do you really want to be an ordnances collector?"

“Yes, I do."

“Why do you want the job that bad?"

“There are many villagers, including my own mother, who was killed by a bomb when she went farming," said Nhai leaning against the table, scratching it with her thumb nails, and acting very emotionally.

“OK, if you really want the job, we will hire you to see how much patience you really have.”

“I will survive no matter what happens.”

"You have to understand one thing and that is, ordnances collection means risking your life every second. If we do not learn all the things that need to be learnt, this could mean potentially losing your life."

“Even if I die, I won’t regret it."

“Do you know how many times you have applied for this job?”

"Four times."

“We want you to know that this is the main issue. We have noticed your perseverance in going after this job and we want to give you a chance, but you have to understand that point.”

Nhai stood up from her seat and kneed down on the floor with tears. These were tears of joy, tears that marked a sudden lifetime opportunity to face future challenges.

Some of the negative villagers’ feelings evaporated after she was sent for job training on ordnances collection in Vientiane. At the graduation ceremony, Nhai was proclaimed the top graduating trainee. The day of telling each other goodbye arrived. Everybody raised their hands to do so with tears in their eyes and fond memories, before going back to their respective assignment locations.

Time flied like water going under the bridge. Nhai’s life changed from being a plain villager to becoming a UXO team member. One could clearly notice that she always carried a book in her hands, even when she was in the middle of rice field, baking under the sizzling sun. She often opened the book, read a few pages of it, and went back onto the ground to continue sorting and digging. From time to time, she would pull out a handkerchief to wipe her sweat.

Her team leader often congratulated her and said,

“You are doing a great job, Nhai. This really reflects your strong desire to be an ordnances collector”.

Not getting any reaction other than a faint smile from Nhai, the team leader added, “I have heard that you will be promoted."

After hearing that, Nhai got up from the bomb hole she was digging and wiped her sweat. She put her handkerchief in her pocket, and approached her team leader.

“It’s not that important, boss. What is most important is to be able to do what you wanted to do”, she said with a broad smile

“Well, that’s what makes our big boss and our chief expert very happy”.

Nhai walked side by side with the team leader and headed toward the rest area to have lunch as she used to do every time during her work days. Nhai gave her assistance to many of her team members, especially women.

“Nhai, why are you sitting here by yourself?"

“Sy! Say something before you walk in. You stunned me!”

            “You were dreaming, were you not?”

“I was dreaming all over! What I can do for you?"

“This afternoon, the project director wanted us to destroy a big unexploded bomb, but we don’t know how to do it safely. That’s why I’m here to seek your help.”

Nhai said to her younger sister who was working on a silk weaver, “Somphou, please look after the nephew! I will go to work and will be back as soon as I can.” Then, Nhai stood up from the wooden bench, took a deep breath and thought about her mother again.

“Mom! Today, I’m getting what I had wished for. May your spirit protect me from danger all the time! I will do this job the best I can. May your soul stay in heaven.”

Written on July 23, 2005