Happy New Year take Hmong

My most vivid memory of this weekend is watching a pig being carried into Ya's* house on a platter. It looked very much like a living pig, except it's back legs were split open and it's insides were taken out. The pig was surrounded by a handful of chocolate candies, strawberry wafers in pink wrappers, and two dead chickens. Minutes later, Leslie, Bryce, our friend Brian, Ya, Ya's brother, and I were gathered around the platter. Gathered around us were twenty-five Hmong men, and gathered around them were the Hmong women and children. We were taking part in a Basaii ceremony, where bad energy is removed from your body and replaced with good energy. The ceremony began with a long prayer chanted by Ya's grandfather. The six of us held our hands first down, then up, and then with our palms facing each other as the Hmong words filled our ears. Then the old man tied a white string on each of our wrists. The Hmong men in the room followed suit and began tying them on our wrists as well. Each time one was knotted, they said a prayer in Hmong ("It means for good things to come," translated Ya). When they were done, we each had two wrists full of white strings, and we were ready to sample what was on the platter. Ya's grandfather took a handful of sticky rice and a piece of chicken and handed it first to Brian, then to Bryce, and finally to Leslie and me. Leslie and I looked at each other, and with only a few moments hesitation, began to eat our chicken**. We were also given an inch of a clear liquor ("It has bees in it," said Ya) and a strawberry wafer. Then Ya led us outside, where Leslie and I breathed a giant sigh of relief that we did not have to sample the pig. The Hmong children that had been surrounding us ever since our arrival resumed their post, their dirt-smeared faces and runny noses not quite matching with the new clothes they wore in honor of the new year. We left the village a few hours later, but the white strings remain as memories of a truly unique experience.





*Ya is our lovely Lao friend whom we tutor at Big Brother Mouse. He is nineteen years old and one of the most hardworking, genuine, adorable people we have ever met.

**Ya knew we did not eat meat, and made sure we were given other options for our meals. But when you're handed a piece of chicken in the midst of an entire Hmong community, "no thank you" doesn't cut it.