Ten Years in a Cave - The Resilience of the Human Spirit

My travels around the world have allowed me tohe would work hard to provide a good life for his
experience a different perspective on life. I havemother. He was a good, loving and kind son.
had the opportunity to meet and talk with manyEvery spare moment he had when he was not
people from around the world who come fromdoing this, he would be working on his bar. The
many different places. I have listened to manybar he was building was to provide foreigners with
stories of survival, triumph, heartache, celebration,a place to socialize, drink and hang out. He
love and success that have brought many lessonsenvisioned his little village prospering with the
to my heart and life. There are so many peopleincrease in foreign visitors to the place and he
and stories that have stayed within my soul forwanted to make it one they would remember
me to recall and draw upon when I need a simpleand return to.
reminder of how beautiful, bittersweet andHe designed a beautiful, tranquil garden and his
magical this thing called life is.central focal piece of the bar was his prized
The resilience of the human spirit became sopossession- the big shell of an American missile,
apparent to me on my travels through Asia. Iwhich stood proudly at the entrance to the bar.
have never met a more inspirational race ofOn the shell was the name of his bar. Our family
people. How often we complain here in the Westlived in the mountainous regions of Laos; a place
of such trivial matters and how 'bad' we have it? Ithat was heavily bombarded during the Vietnam
am completely guilty of this and writing this postWar. We learned about all of this on one of our
today has humbled me and reminded me justlast days there in the village. We sat down with
how lucky I am. Life for most Asians, despitethe family to have a delicious yet simple meal by
their 'apparent' lack of wealth is simple, humorouscandlelight and by the light of the thousands of
and carefree. It does not matter what hand theystars that lit up the dark sky.
are dealt they pick themselves up, they forgive,The mother, in her broken English, began to tell us
get over it and make the most of what theyher story. She was only a young girl , 8 years of
have now so that they can improve their future. Iage, when the Vietnam War started. The village
miss the profound lessons these people taughtlived in constant fear of the continual planes that
me daily.flew over head, dropping their bombs of hatred
Craig and I traveled through Laos in Oct 2006.upon a land of people they did not know; people
We followed the normal backpacking route butwho were oblivious to the world beyond their rice
part way in decided to veer off track to havefields and fishing nets; people who knew nothing
our own experience at Muong Ngoi, a smallof the reasons for the war and who only wanted
Laotian riverside village. It was quite a strenuousto live in harmony with the land and with each
journey getting there on a hair raising bus rideother.
followed by a small river boat - more like a canoeTo escape the devastation and fear, the whole
with a motor placed on it. Thankfully we stuckvillage moved to live inside the caves of the
the journey through to our destination.nearby limestone mountains. For 10 years they
We arrived at the village and found severallived in that dark, damp, cool cave; daring to
guesthouses at the dock but we decided to trekventure out only at night time under the cover of
down to the end of the dirt road to give somedarkness to tend to the fields so they could eat
business to the guesthouse at the end who wouldand survive. They had no light and little food.
often miss out on the majority of the smallMany of their fellow villages died when they
number of tourists who filtered in.emerged from the caves at certain times of the
We were greeted by the owner of theday to satisfy their most basic needs.
guesthouse, Nuang Jun, who was gushing withFor 10 years they lived in that cave together. The
excitement that we had come to stay. Hermother of our family met and married her
English was very limited but she immediatelyhusband in that cave. She entered it aged 8, and
made us feel welcome. We could feel how muchcame out when she was 18, married and
it meant to her that some farangs (foreigners)pregnant with her first child. Take a moment to
had come to stay and she really wanted to dostop now and think of your last 10 years. Think
everything in her power to make sure we wereabout all you have done, everything you have
comfortable and had a good time. She began toexperienced. It's a lot right? Now think about that
feel embarrassed that she could not offer usperiod of time; it's a long time right? So just
more comfort than we would have receivedimagine for that length of time you lived in the
elsewhere. She had no electricity and little food todark, depths of a cave, and that was all you
offer us and our accommodation was just a veryexperienced; terrified that if you stepped out for
basic wooden hut with an outside toilet and onlyjust a glimpse of sunshine and food to eat, you
scoops of cold water to dunk yourself with tocould be blown to smithereens.
have a shower.I'll never forget the silent stillness I felt that night
For us this was not a problem, we'd stayed inas I listened to her story. Words could never
much worse and for us we travelled for thedescribe how it moved me, yet at the same time
experiences of the land and the people; notremoved all thoughts from my mind. I felt such a
where we put our head at night. Anyway wedeep love and respect for the courage, strength
loved the simplicity and peacefulness of it all. Alland power this lady possessed. I felt so small and
we noticed was the amazing view we had of theundeserving in her presence. I felt that as a
picturesque, jungled mountains by the river andWesterner, even though in her eyes I had so
the warmth and happiness that radiated out frommuch, in essence I had so little.
this kind lady.The story did not end there. She then went on to
Throughout the week we were to spend sometell us about her son Gai and what we already
time getting to know the family. Their 22 year oldsuspected to be the truth. When he was eleven,
son, Gai, spoke perfect English and he becamehe was out playing in the mountains, nearby the
our guide and friend. He took us on treks throughvillage, when he picked up a shiny piece of metal
the jungle to visit nearby traditional hillside villages,to examine it out of curiosity, and it exploded in
where he taught us much about the history ofhis hands.
the area and the customs of the people. He alsoHe spent 2 months in the hospital recovering. His
took us fishing, traditional Laotian style. I spent themother was so grateful that he was alive and she
day in total amazement at how skillful he was anddid not lose her precious baby to that war that
how easy he made it seem. I could not even casthad already taken so much from her. He lost his
the net out in the water let alone catch fish.arm, and took a lot of shrapnel in the belly and
I loved spending time with Gai. Each minute was aeye and bares these horrific scars with no shame
reminder to me of how grateful I should be of allor anger.
I have and not only that but a reminder of justI did not sleep much that night. In the stillness of
what the human spirit is capable of doing andthe night my mind played over and over again
being. He was so determined to make his life andtheir story. I pictured it in my mind and tried to
that of his family a success. He was really playingimagine what life was once like for them living in a
life full out and making the most of his not socave not knowing if each day was to be their last.
fortunate circumstances.I couldn't imagine how someone could experience
Gai had only one arm. Even though I could seesuch tragedy yet be so forgiving, so grateful, so
this whenever I looked at him, I always forgot aspeaceful, so warm and loving and eager to make
he could accomplish so much. He could dothese foreigners have a memorable stay in their
everything I could do yet better. He operatedsimple home. We essentially were their enemy
with total confidence, grace and reverence. Gaibut to them it did not matter. How could they
was building a bar on the island. It was his dreamwant us around, let alone want to please us? How
and he spent every spare minute he had bringingcould they be so forgiving? My small mind could
his dream together. He built everything himself. Henot comprehend the magnanimity of their
sawed, and carved and hammered togethercharacter. I could only learn from it and hope that
every piece of wood.I could only ever possess a small amount of the
He went away for months at a time to study indepth of their love and forgiveness.
Luang Prabang, the city, and when he was home