Nongtao Part 3: The People

We leave the elephants behind and head for coffee with Lazyman. Carmel explains to us that some of the villagers are known by Karen nicknames rather than their real name, including “Lazyman” and “Big Sister”. We are destined to meet both.

Lazyman has a small fruit and coffee plantation in the village; we are treated to coffee ground from freshly picked beans and taken on a tour of the small garden. The coffee itself is delicious, and so, surprisingly, is the juicy flesh from around the coffee bean.

But our visit to Lazyman is more than just to share a coffee. Lazyman is a descendant of senior Karen tribesmen and is steeped in knowledge of Karen history and culture, and is delighted when we say we want to learn more. He speaks wonderfully of Karen beliefs, how the body is made up of more than thirty spirits, how illness is caused by a spirit leaving the body, and cured by coaxing that spirit back in. He speaks too of Karen history, the reasons they stay in the mountains, of their origins in Myanmar, but becomes most animated as he discusses the natural world, respecting nature, living as one with the animals (all of whom carry a human spirit). His beliefs, handed down through generations, are held passionately. “We have only one World”, he muses, “we must treasure it”. 

This is an ancient tribal belief, not the spouting of some 21st century activist. You can only wonder how and when the modern world lost sight of these principles.

The hour or so spent listening to Lazyman is so interesting, so stimulating, so humbling. We have visited the wise man of the village. And we feel privileged. 

Its time to eat, “Big Sister” is to cook for us, Carmel has arranged for us to join Big Sister’s family in their home tonight to indulge in traditional Karen fare. We meet her in the village shop where she is buying groceries in preparation, we chip in with a few beers and white whiskey, the suggested gifts for our hosts. They sure do drink an awful lot of whiskey round here.

We climb the rickety stairs and enter the traditional wooden stilted house, the main room is large and open to the outside world, in the middle is a fire pit and a roaring open fire, surely a fire hazard in a building made entirely of wood. The cooking is clearly done in this room too, cluttered shelves on one wall, even a roosting chicken nestled on her eggs amongst the cooking pots on the shelf. The sink and prep area in one corner overlooking the countryside, no wall to hinder the view. Carmel had mentioned to “big sister” that Michaela would like to learn to cook in the traditional Karen way, so she is instantly put to work. A quick demonstration then Michaela is left to continue; scaling and gutting fish, chopping chicken, preparing veg, all under a brief instruction from “big sister” with no common ground with language. Nothing is wasted, the scraps just scraped straight off the chopping board and thrown into the garden for the roaming chickens and pigs to devour, this is a far cry from the clinical kitchen of home we are used to. Phil is in charge of the fire and grinding spices in the pestle and mortar, the work seems endless. 

(Don’t read this bit if you’re squeamish!) Next a male member of the family is called for, he takes a catapult into the garden and stuns a chicken, reappearing in the house and proudly presenting the unfortunate bird to us holding it in the air by its legs, everyone cheers with joy.  The chicken is promptly strangled in front of us, dunked briefly in a boiling cauldron of water and feathers plucked. In no time at all, a cleaver is taken to the newly slaughtered chicken which revealed fresh eggs inside, these along with the now boiled chicken were ready for the banquet, you can’t get much fresher than that!

The food is served in bowls and placed on the floor, a soup-like dish with tofu and wild mushrooms, chicken and vegetables, savoury sticky rice, steamed rice and chicken, whole deep fried river fish salted, the flavours delicate apart from sprat like little fish baked smothered in a chilli, garlic and turmeric paste and baked in banana leaves. We sit on the floor around the fire and devour this feast. Our plan was to write down the recipes for these Karen dishes however we soon abandoned this idea as there were just too many herbs and vegetables, and even flowers and dried stems, which were not recognisable to us and many which were gathered from the jungle, not likely to re-create these tastes back in England. 

Roughly every two minutes we are offered another shot of clear whiskey, we have to keep declining in order to stay conscious! 

So, home Thai food, certainly home Karen food, is indeed very different from the restaurant variety, though is still actually less, rather than more, spicy than the food down south. A meal invite into someone’s home is always a privilege when travelling, particularly when the experience is as unique as this one.