The children of Khe Bu

(Baonghean) - Dropping out of school early, going to the forest and fields, or even panning for gold in the streams are "normal" things for Dan Lai children in Khe Bu village (Chau Khe - Con Cuong). This is what lingers in my mind after my visit back to this community.

"Son of Heaven"

“They are all children of heaven,” says Ms. Lo Thi Mai, a resident of Khe Bu village, describing the children of her community. Even in the scorching heat of summer, when the temperature reaches forty degrees Celsius, the children still bask in the sun, bareheaded. It seems that the lack of food and clothing, and the intense heat of the summer days, have little effect on their joy of living. One can see that upon entering this village, one encounters only… children. It's as if this small village is the children's own world. They peek out from windows, loiter under stilt houses, on the concrete roads, and linger by the stream. Most of the adults are in the forest. They leave early in the morning and return late at night, sometimes even sleeping there to gather forest products and catch bees.

Children in Khe Bu catch fish in the Nam Pu stream.

The village has over a hundred houses, and couples of marriageable age often have more than two children. Before the older child is even weaned, the younger one is already born. These children from the forest grow up innocently, like wild saplings.

Although not yet 40 years old, Ms. Lo Thi Mai has already become a grandmother. Her two eldest daughters are both married. Her second daughter, who just turned 18, is already carrying a 14-month-old baby on her back.

While not considered extremely poor, Mai's family struggles to raise two children, including a one-year-old grandson. Their youngest son just finished fifth grade. Mai and her husband make a living by whittling chopsticks for restaurants and weddings in the town, or selling them retail to passersby who prefer chopsticks made from certain types of forest wood. They also sell traditional medicine for joint pain and broken bones to people in the area. "Thanks to these jobs, our youngest son can go to school without worry," shared Vi Văn Tâm, Mai's husband.

In the village, many children only complete the 5th grade and then stay home. To continue their education at the secondary school, they have to go to the commune center, 20 km away. There, the accommodation and meals for students are relatively good, but it seems that attracting Dan Lai students to continue their education is quite difficult because parents are not very enthusiastic about their children's education. One reason why parents are not interested in sending their children to school, according to an elderly woman who has been selling groceries in the village for many years: "The people here believe: 'We live in the mountains, knowing how to read and write is enough, what do we need secondary or high school diplomas for?'"

Beneath the stream…

The youngest son of Ms. Lo Thi Mai's family is named Vi Van Uoc, a son the family had been eagerly awaiting. In the village, names like Uoc, Dat, Mong, Hiem, Yeu, Quy… are not uncommon. Parents still generally desire a son to have someone to rely on in the future.

Ước was a rather mischievous little boy. After an initial moment of hesitation, he snuggled up to me and whispered by the Nặm Pu stream near our house, where many children were gathered. This was the coolest stream in the area, so everyone wanted to come and swim to escape the scorching summer heat. I guessed that was the case, but it was only partly true…

Little Ha Van is playing on the raft.

I followed the boy skipping towards the stream. The confluence of the Nặm Pu and Khe Choăng streams formed a small pool, quite bustling with people. They held handcrafted gold-panning tools such as wooden sieves, shovels, hoes, and spades… The villagers gathered here from early morning to search for gold dust in the streambed. According to the gold panners, on a lucky day they could find a few grams of gold. However, the number of days they returned empty-handed was usually greater than the lucky days.

Quite a few young children participate in the gold panning "army." The majority of them are elementary school students. During school holidays, the children see panning for gold in the stream as a way to help their parents. For some of these children, whether they find gold or not is not very important. They participate in the work simply as a game.

This year, 14-year-old La Thi Huyen said she dropped out of school when she was in 6th grade. On days when she's not in the forest gathering bamboo shoots or catching bees, she goes down to the stream with her family to pan for gold. If she's lucky, she can still help her family earn a few hundred thousand dong a day. Huyen said she started panning for gold with her parents when she was in elementary school. Another boy from the Dan Lai ethnic group, La Van Vong, who is only in 3rd grade, also knows how to use a wooden sieve to pan for gold. Standing in the stream right next to Vong is a boy about 4 years old. The boy came down to the stream with his brother and family because there was no one to look after him at home.

After a few brief conversations with the gold-mining children, the boy Ước led us upstream. A raft carrying firewood passed by. Perched precariously on the raft was a little girl, about preschool age. She confidently introduced herself as Hà Vân, wearing a very fashionable pink dress, and explained that she was returning from gathering firewood with her mother. The young mother explained, "If we left her at home, she'd get into trouble and might fall into the stream. We're a little scared to have her come along, but it's safer with an adult." The little girl, who was splashing in the water, suddenly interjected, "I want to go to the forest with you, Mom!" Perhaps for a lively little girl like Hà Vân, going to the forest with her mother was just like city children going to the park.

On another stretch of stream, a group of children were fishing. Little La Thi Ngoan, who had just finished fourth grade, showed more experience than her friends. Ngoan gathered the group, chose a small section of the stream, and arranged stones to divert the water flow. She used leaves and debris to seal the gaps, preventing the streamwater from seeping down. In just about half an hour, the stream below dried up, and the children were free to catch fish. This method of fishing has been used by the villagers for generations. Having to help her parents with household chores at a young age, Ngoan also learned the fishing techniques of the adults early on.

The children we met along the Nặm Pu stream were mostly 9 or 10 years old, yet they were already engaged in the struggle for survival with an innocent spirit. Some might think they are being treated unfairly, as they should all be at an age where they only know how to eat, sleep, and study. But life in the highlands, especially in communities living close to nature like the Dan Lai people, has been like this for generations. From the moment they learn to walk, each person must learn to fend for themselves and earn their daily bread…

Huu Vi