During that late 19th-century feeding frenzy known as colonial expansion, one of the most dramatic sites was what was then called Indochina. There was great rivalry between British imperialism and French colonial ambitions, particularly in upper Laos. There, the several small states that had been able to preserve their relative independence by paying tribute to all the surrounding regional powers were finally subjugated.
A 1893 gunboat incident gave the French the pretext needed to take these territories from Siam and establish suzerainty. Formerly neutral states such as those of the Muong Sing and the Sip Song Pana thus disappeared to become part of Indochina — present-day Laos and part of neighboring Vietnam.
Secure in their victory, the French organized something called the Mission Pavie, a series of official excursions into the interior that surveyed the ground and drew up maps, especially those of the disputed borders between Laos, Siam, Cambodia, Yunnan and Vietnam. The Mission published a series of reports, volumes in which their accomplishments were recorded.
All of these (seven in all) have since been republished in English translation by the enterprising White Lotus Press in Bangkok and several have recently come back into print. Of particular interest is this volume devoted to the fate of the two indigenous peoples, valuable because of the detailed description that is given in them. Dr. Lefevre, a Mission Pavie author, was the first white man that these tribes had seen and he, in turn, was the last man to see their authentic way of life.
Also, fortunately for us, he had a truly academic regard for detail. Seemingly every step of his arduous treks down river and up mountain is recorded in the 1894-96 diary that forms his report. He also describes the peoples he discovered living in what he regarded as a wilderness and tells us what they were doing, how they were doing it, what they were eating and how they were dressed.
He is particularly detailed in this latter. "The Meo women wear a sort of jacket, opening in a point on the nude breasts . . . this piece of cloth is often adorned with rather pretty embroideries."
The Meo struck him as odd but picturesque. He struck them as impossible. "Ko To Moun has never been visited by a European. So, the inhabitants fled when we approached. During our lunch, some take courage and come to look at us with stupefied eyes."
Indeed, the foreigners must have been something to look at. The author's luggage had fallen into the river and though "my boy spent the night drying my parade uniform, it is a pitiful sight to see." And what they ate must have fascinated and repelled.
On Christmas Eve, 1894, they opened a can of pate de foie gras and made pancakes with leftover flour. "How welcome a change from roast pig, boiled pig, pig in sauce."
By the following March the mission had reached Luang Prabang and whole pages of the report (the most interesting) describe its wonders. The author loved Luang Prabang for many reasons but perhaps mainly because he found the people "carefree par excellence — laughing, chewing betel, sleeping and courting women are their only occupations." He looked at the youngsters enjoying themselves, and each other. "What does it matter? The locals call things by their proper names and would not understand why we stop short of talking about love."
Dr. Lefevre certainly thinks hard about this; indeed, his musings on the subject form an interesting subtext to the report. He dwells upon the sight of Laotian women bathing:
"Entering the water till it is halfway up their legs, they squat little by little and at the same time they raise their skirt higher and higher, in such a way that it is impossible for even the highest standards of decency to be violated. To get out they use the same maneuver. They progressively stand and gradually lower their skirts at the same time.
"However, how can I describe the effect produced by the differences in the coloration of the skin, which, tanned by the sun, has a pretty copper color from head to belt, while from the belt to the feet, protected by the skirt, it remains more or less white!"
His descriptions are thus not only anthropological and sartorial — they are human. So are his reactions. "I feel the weight of the isolation overwhelm me." He looks at the Mekong and wonders about his lonely fate. Then, typically, "I shake off my torpor," and he then busies himself on the construction of rafts on which he will descend to the next doomed village.
The French saw Laos as a useful buffer state between the two growing empires, theirs and that of Britain, and even after this was no longer seen as an advantage, they held on for quite a while. Finally, in 1955 the U.S. Department of Defense, as a part of the U.S. containment policy, created a special Programs Evaluation Office to replace French support of the Royal Laos Army against the communist Pathet Lao.
Eventually the unhappy history of this country continued with massive aerial bombardments by the United States, an attempt to eliminate North Vietnamese bases in Laos. Between 1971 and 1973 the U.S. Air Force dropped more ordnance on Laos than was dropped worldwide during the 1939-1945 war.
In this volume from the Mission Pavie, however, remains something more than a century vanished but preserved for us by a man who, despite the call of war and the pull of politics, had seen something natural, something beautiful.
With your current subscription plan you can comment on stories. However, before writing your first comment, please create a display name in the Profile section of your subscriber account page.