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Khanla Xaysombath is an earthy woman with
a hearty laugh and a ready repertory of good stories to tell. There's
the one about the wooden penises, for example.
Some background: Laos did not have much
family planning or safe-sex campaigns until the mid-1990s, after
a policy to increase births in the under-populated country ended
and the threat of an HIV/AIDS invasion loomed in neighbouring Vietnam
and Thailand . Over the last decade there has consequently been
a scramble to devise programs and explain to people for whom a dozen
or more children is the norm.
The tale is apochryphal, but everyone likes
to talk about how health workers who first demonstrated the use
of a condom unrolled it over a thumb and held it up for all to see.
Before long, the story goes, village men were complaining the condoms
did not work. They had dutifully put them on their thumbs just like
in the demonstrations.
Khamla, an official of the once stodgy,
quasi-governmental Lao Women's Union , wanted better props for reproductive
health kits being assembled for village health volunteers in a rural
programme she directs with help from Family Planning Australia .
Determined to make the education material as realistic as possible,
Khamla hit on the idea of commissioning rural wood crafters to carve
some lifelike penises for the kit. These, she thought, would leave
no doubt of how to use a condom.
The wood cutters she approached were scandalised
by the bold request. Though surrounded by woodlands, at least one
of them pleaded that he was out of wood. Khamla howls with laughter
at the absurdity. She persevered, however. Eventually she found
the sculptor and the props were duly created. In village gatherings,
the erect wooden penises still shock some people, entertain others
but educate all who watch the demonstrations.
Khamla, who comes from remote Hua Phan province
in northern Laos and has an instinctive understanding of culture
and first-hand experience of rural deprivation, is getting a chance
to make a big difference to the delivery of reproductive health
needs and safe sex messages in Laos, in part because of a government
decision to decentralise more social services, giving provincial
leaders at least some freedom to introduce innovative programmes.
It is a slow and uneven process. In southern
Laos , I visited a village dispensary that had been waiting two
years for an allocation of funds to partition a corner of their
dispensary in a former rice warehouse to provide privacy for women
being counseled. There was no attempt to enlist villagers for an
afternoon of volunteer work to create a private corner with simple
walls or screens. Meanwhile, women were staying away.
Khamla, who works in the women's rights
division of the Lao Women's Union, is obviously a much more creative
and impatient actor. With a little money she can do wonders. She
also had a hand in the making of a reproductive health education
video for rural villagers, shot under Australian direction in the
village of Phoudindeng , in the mountainous Vang Vieng region. One
of her wooden penises gets a supporting role in the UNFPA-supported
video, by the way, with shoe polish for makeup to get the color
right.
Phoudindeng is not without attitude problems.
Socially, conservatism is strong. It was here, a local official
said, where a man beat his wife over the head with a stick because
he thought she was spending too much time with the women's health
project. Making the video was a challenge.
But even before the video was completed,
family life in Phoudindeng was changing with unbelievable speed
through the work of the Lao-Australian project. Villagers said that
only four children had been born this year, where not many years
ago there would have been many more.
In Phoudindeng, I watched the premiere of
the finshed video with Khamla and her Australian partners in the
Lao women's project, Kathryn Sweet and Vimala Dejvongsa, who was
born in Laos and raised in Australia . Sweet represents the Lao
women's project sponsor since 1998, Family Planning Australia ,
a voluntary organisation that is part of the London-based International
Planned Parenthood Federation.
The video, titled ‘Find Out First', was
in three local languages: Lao, Hmong and Khmu. The stars were the
villagers themselves -- men and women -- talking about birth control.
Their comments interspersed with explicit diagrammatic pictures
or animations of how male and female organs work, and how various
methods of contraception are used. There was rapt attention in the
room crammed with local women of all ages, and only occasional nervous
titters over graphic illustrations of erect male penises and intercourse.
When the video show ended, women talked
animatedly about what they had seen, and several said they had never
before understood how reproductive systems work, let alone how to
prevent pregnancies or sexually transmitted infections. Some admitted
that these topics were not traditionally discussed so openly.
“But whether we like the film or not,” a
middle-aged woman said, “we watch it because we get information.”
Another woman remarked that now she knew why she suffered menstrual
pain as part of a normal monthly cycle.
“We understand these things more because
now we have seen it with our own eyes,” a talkative young woman
said. She and others agreed the men should watch it too, and with
their wives. Some men had in fact peeked through windows to catch
the video, but did not want to comment on what they had seen.
“It is a very good idea that men should
see this video,” a woman said emphatically. “Men play around and
bring disaster to their wives and children. Some men want to help
their wives but they don't know how.”
“Play it again,” someone asked. “I don't
think I understood everything.” Before lunch was over, there had
been two more screenings. This is one video the makers hope will
be pirated and sold in the markets.
Why are these traditional village women
so willing not only to talk about their most intimate lives but
also to express their determination to learn from the video and
the women's project more generally, and adopt new contraceptive
measures?
“Women have to make decisions quicker because
we are the ones giving birth,” a mother in the crowd commented. “Women
change faster.”
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