Hmong Courting Rituals (as told by a Hmong man on the prowl)

Backyard weddings with long time partners are not the norm the world over. There are some strange and bizarre courting rituals in many cultures. The Hmongs courting rituals aren’t really strange, by they are different than what we in Canada are used to.

A disclaimer is in order here. All cultural factoids were told to me by my guide Tuvee (who is Hmong). This is no guarantee that they are 100% accurate, but what he said seems to make sense with what I saw.

It seems that the Hmong can only get married, or indeed even talk about marriage) during the festivities of the month long Hmong New Year (this is a good culture no?)

Eligible men and young women are only allowed contact at public events, and dialogue about love and marriage can only take place within the confines of what Tuvee simply referred to as “the ball game”. The rules of the ball game are simple…pick a girl you want to marry, stand across from her and toss a tennis ball back and forth, and in this way woo her off her feet. Apparently tossing a ball back and forth for a month allows enough time for the couple to fall in love. Anyway, as you can see, the girls get rather dressed up for these events (the men, like in most cultures, do not).

Some background about this spectacle (and my coming to see it) is in order here. As most of you know, I’m a fairly independent traveller, and I usually don’t use the services of guides per se. However, this event takes place in the “Bomb Village” outside of Phosavan, in Lao. Primarily, I was there to see the world famous and mysterious “Plain of Jars”. Initially, I thought that jars were all there was to see in the Phosavan region, but I was wrong. We were met at the truck station (Kira, myself, and an Irish girl named Ursula that we met along the way) by a guesthouse tout in a minivan, who offered us a free ride to his guesthouse ( a common scam, but in this case just good service). The name of the place was the Kong Keo Guesthouse, named after the owner a Mr Kong Keo, a lively little Hmong guy with a sense of humour and a pretty good golf swing. The tout turned out to be an affiliated guide named Tuvee (also Hmong) who took people to see the jar sights, but also offered cultural and scenic nature trips as well. There were a few others at the guesthouse when we arrived (all here to see the jars) and we figured on getting a group rate tour together. Now tours are the only legal way to get to the jar sites, and with the large amount of UXO (that’s unexploded ordinance for those of you not familiar with American bombing campaigns), it really is for the best. Everyone wanted to see the jars…but Tuvee was able to convince us to take a more varied (and slightly more expensive) tour that visited only one jar site, but a promised wealth of other, more interesting venues. As he (Tuvee) put it “When you see one jar site, you have both eyes open. But when you see two jars sites, you see the second with one eye closed. Three jar sites, and both eyes are closed.” This would seemingly prove true, as the enigmatic stone jars are a little dull.

So off we went to a bomb crater field (see one of my previous posts at Toasters of the Gods), then to the bomb village (a place where cluster bomb casings are use to make fences and grow herbs), and then a short drive over to a school field where all these colourfully dressed girls were standing in a line, tossing tennis balls back and forth with their friends, and occasionally a man. Tuvee explained the significance of the ball game, and the real reason for our visit became apparent. One of the pretty young girls, it seems, had caught Tuvee’s fancy, and he was, for lack of a better word, trying to put the moves on her in Hmong fashion. Now he carefully cloaked this by first getting us involved in the ball game (the act of throwing balls around has no particular cultural significance unless your intentions are running in that direction), but after a while he confessed his motives, and sought counsel from us as to what he should do about his crush. He got shot down by the way. The girl he was particularly attracted to was from a wealthier family (hence the different styled hat) and didn’t find him marriage worthy and said he was “like the old buffalo trying to get the calves) or something to that effect. Anyway, it was a pretty cool thing to witness, and great opportunity to openly snap pictures of pretty girls.

We later hiked to a waterfall, after a liquid lunch of rice whiskey at one of Tuvee’s moms house (yes that’s one of his moms...not one of his moms’ houses). He fed us some tradital Hmong food and showed us his pot plants Then finally, we went and saw some jars. Altogether a very good day.

I highly recommend the Phosavan experience (although its really quite chilly – read freezing- in the winter). I also highly recommend the Kong Keio Guesthouse, and taking a trip with Tuvee (he might find a new girlfriend by the time you get there). Either way, it’s a cool place to hang out. Sit by a warming fire in a bomb casing, and watch Mr. Kong Keo practice his short game. I doubt anyone would regret a trip here.

Flashing Back to Mexico

I recently (this morning) camping at a local waterfall, reading about Nicaragua (my next destination) and I realized that most of Nicaragua's natural attractions are volcanoes...some active...some extinct.
This got me thinking about one of the more surreal sights of my travels.
Vulcan Paricutin, in Michocan Mexico.
This was a very recent development...it started as a bubbling cyst in a farmers field in1943...the farmer tried in vain to put the volcano out by shovelling dirt on it. In a single year it rose to 1100 feet and started spewing lava on all the little villagers (fortunately the lava flow was slow, so most were able to run away). It's molten fury creeped over the little town at its base, burying and burning everything in it's path, except the spire of the cathedral.
This omission by the destructive forces of nature presents one of the must see/photograph wonders of Inland Mexico (or indeed anywhere). Its best photographed from a distance, as local boys with too much time on their hands have somewhat defaced it with spray-painted declarations of love etc. The distance shots also get in more lava...making it look less like a ruined church, and more like a ruined church submerged in lava...which it is.
I've made the trip out to Paracutin three times...and each time I've been rewarded with few visitors and a pleasant walk. Do not attempt approaching the church in sandals, as this slow cooling lava flow is razor sharp and cuts the feet. Dogs paws are also aggravated by the rocks, and dogs generally lack vigour in the heat.
Some people actually trek up the cone, but who needs that kind of physical torment on a hot day. Not only is it hot, but you start out at a pretty high elevation, so your stamina is already waning. Renting horses is an option...but I never really got around to it...perhaps next time.
Paracutin is closest to Uruapan...a largely ignored travel destination...but one of my favourite Mexican cities. Another good day trip from Uruapan is the guitar/catholic ketch making town of Paracho...this is where I get all my Virgin of Guadalupe paintings.