Near Victims of Tradition

By Ekaphone Phouthonesy

In the grounds of the temple, drums and cymbals strike up, drawing people of all ages to get up and dance. They wave their hands and legs as if they are harvesting rice.

The festival is a modest occasion in the town of Muang Sing in Luang Nam Tha, a province in remote northern Laos . The district is home to 30,000 people from various ethnic groups. Half of them are Ikor, renowned producers of textiles and handicrafts.

In a crowd of onlookers, Dr Khamchanh introduces us to his children Elic and Elan, a twin boy and girl. He tells them to greet us with a nop , or traditional Lao greeting, and explains that they are in their first year of primary school.

We strangers make the children nervous; the boy is crying but manages to compose himself. He embraces his mother, Dr Porm, firmly and hides behind her back.

Close by, Elic in her western clothes is enjoying a noodle soup in a shop in front of the temple. She greets the visitors with a lovely smile and seems at ease.

The five year-olds' laughing and crying is a picture of innocence like that of most children in rural villages in Laos . However, few people know that these twins have an extraordinary tale, surviving a vicious tradition that almost had them murdered.

“These children are not really mine, they are children of an Ikor minority couple that we adopted from,” said Dr Khamchan, who is currently director of Muang Sing Public Health Service.

It is sad but true that, traditionally, when Ikor people give birth to twins, the children are immediately killed, as people believe that they will bring disaster to the village.

So what about Elic and Elan? Of course, they are exceptions to the rule for they were fortunate enough to be rescued by this kind couple. “I felt pity for the children so I decided to adopt them as my own so they would not be killed,” said Dr Porm who is a doctor at the district hospital.

Until as little as ten years ago, the killing of children was a common occurrence in Muang Sing district. Since then, however, educational opportunities have improved, but the practice is still believed to continue.

Health care campaigns supported by international organisations like the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) have been underway for many years. UNFPA has built a campaign network through the Ministry of Public Health and Lao Women's Union to train two volunteers in each village in reproductive health. These volunteers explain to the villagers that having twins is common and natural.

After many years, the Ikor people have undergone a positive change from killing twins to now giving their children to others. However, it is not certain that children would survive without anyone to take the twins.

An official who worked with the campaign said in the deep jungle of Luang Nam Tha, Ikor people still strongly believe that having twins were bad luck and would bring disaster to the village.

“Ikor people get angry and walk away when we mentioned twin children,” he said.

Khamchanh and his wife still recall clearly what they were doing the day they rescued the twin babies five years ago.

“It was noon. A man who worked as a village volunteer for primary health care came to my house and offered me the babies,” Dr Porm recalled. Dr Porm, who is now a district volunteer for the UNFPA-supported project, said that she was upset and did not know what to do since she already had two children of her own. But she felt she had to have two more.

“At first I refused to take the children,” Dr Porm said, adding that her family was poor and the burden of adopting the twins was a serious one.

“The following day, the volunteer came back to offer the children again. If I did not take the children, the people in the village would have killed them,” she said.

As tradition dictates, Ikor people use hot ash straight from the fireplace and throw it on the newborn children.

The parents of the twins put the babies in a basket and take them around every house in the village. One by one, each house throws their share of ash on the bodies of the babies until they die. The death is slow and painful. As well as suffering severe burns, the babies choke on the hot ash.

After a short consultation with her husband, Dr Porm went to the village just 15 kilometres from the centre of Muang Sing where she found the children left on the floor of their parents' house.

“I saw the children left on the floor, lying on a piece of towel,” Dr Porm recalled.

Even though they took the twins in by chance, Khamchanh and Porm love Elic and Elan as their own children. They say that the children know they are not their own parents, but the relationship between them is a loving one.

Neither of the parents will ever tell Elic and Elan what fate nearly befell them.

Elic one day would like to be a doctor. “I want to be a doctor like my mother,” she said.

Mrs Porm said that despite Elic and Elan being twins they had very different characters. Elic is obedient while Elan is a little naughty and self-centred.

“Elan tries to do whatever he likes, however Elic is more flexible,” she added.

Having a twin means death for the children and banishment for the parents. Mr Khamchanh said that under normal conditions and without the campaigns, the couple would have been banished from the village at least three years ago. Their houses would also have been burnt down.

Although killing babies is clearly against the law in Lao PDR, Khamchanh said the arm of the law did not reach all corners of the country. He added that even when authorities in Sing district knew of cases, they found it difficult to punish the crime. “The district authorities just warn the Ikor people not to kill twins as it is against the law,” he said.

Now Ikor people in Muang Sing understand more about the law as they gain access to education. However, the future remains uncertain as the younger generation still believes that twins bring bad luck.