Mother Mekong’s moods

Later the army, along with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs workers joined the high school kids in sandbagging our stretch of the river. The skinny kids chortled and flirted outrageously, singing as they worked. Women held umbrellas over other sweating, shovel-wielding women dressed in silk sinhs (traditional skirts). Claps and cheers decorated the hot sweaty work. It was all so good natured, motivated and hopeful.

I had sent messages to friends reassuring them that we were OK. Many knew we lived on the river and had visited us here. I got back puzzled notes wondering what I was on about. Most were horrified that while an event of this magnitude is happening, not a word is written, televised or radioed.

Later when the river has subsided two meters, the press catch on. Though I suspect that is only because one Aussie bush walker gets lost in the forest. His drama alerted Australia to the fate of thousands of Laos and Thais. That Luang Prabang a World Heritage city, was inundated and many drowned was not apparently worth reporting. Landslides buried heritage buildings and farmlands. And nothing appeared in the Australian media.

One wonders who makes the decisions about what is deemed newsworthy and what parameters are used. I have often said that Asians know a lot more about Australia than Australia knows about Asia. Now I think I know why, but I also wonder how many other global events are eclipsed by say one plucky woman’s fight with cancer, road rage or sports star divorce stories - the latter seeming to have nudged diet fads off the front page.

By and large the Olympics were more important than the biggest flood in 100 years to hit the Mekong. A swimmer’s sprint more newsworthy than poor people losing their livelihoods in a country where 30 per cent of children are undernourished. Adel Horin noted that each gold medal cost Australians $50 million. An obscenity that I think outdoes a photographer’s art pictures of nude teenagers.

The SMH never acknowledged the messages or photos. The ABC’s Australia Network continued to serve up breathless reports on the games, at one stage sending a hapless correspondent out into Indonesian crowds to try to make sense of their general boredom with Olympic rituals. My Lao neighbours hoping for some news of the floods quickly went home, also bored and frustrated by the incessant sports coverage. For Laos the games finished with the opening ceremony.

But what impressed me was the organisation of the Lao people.

A French restaurateur was woken and called by his nai ban (village head) at 2am to fill sandbags. He and his Lao wife joined hundreds of others to hold the waters back. He counted as a privilege the sense of community and inclusiveness that he felt.

In a flight of fantasy I imagined the same thing happening in Australia. I imagined the local mayor calling the community to help. After a stream of “buggers offs”, he might also be told, “We pay our taxes, it’s not our responsibility”. Parents would be outraged to have their darlings pulled from school to fill sand bags. “This is no job for children, there are pedophiles out there.” or “Trent has a civics class, and will miss his session at the obesity clinic”.

And government workers? “It’s not in my duty statement, or in my WorkChoices contract. Nah I am not doing that. What about health and safety? The handles of the shovels are full of splinters.”

Foreign Affairs? “I can’t fill sandbags. I am getting my hair done and a manicure for tonight’s cocktail party at the Moldovan embassy.” Or “I don’t have time I am writing a briefing on the risk of terrorists in para-gliders attacking Gold Coast holiday makers”.

In two days over two million sandbags were laid. I was at a small shop a day or so ago, and watched as a song, undeniably Stalinist in its tone and gravitas, was played on Lao TV to honour those who had saved the city. I admit that I cried as scenes of the young and old Laos with such good grace, delight and pride who worked without complaint was shown.

Yes this is a Stalinist state, but the people were not heaving 50kg bags because they were ordered to. They are old fashioned patriots who care about their country. They parked their bikes in my garden, chatted to my dog and then grabbed a shovel, laughing and joking as the Lao do. While this went on, Australia watched a lot of highly paid and primped athletes. I may be biased but I think what happened here was, by far, more heroic.