Photo: http://www.worldradio.ch/wrs/news/special/laos/accident-in-phonehai-village.shtml

Only the moon illuminates the bamboo huts of Phonehai village at night. There’s no electricity. So, villagers gathered around a motorcycle headlight, kneeling on the dusty ground, to tell what happened last January 17th.

(MY KOUNTOUANH in Lao)

One of the villagers My Kountouanh recounts, quite matter of factly, that a calf had died. It lay, in fact, in one of the many bomb craters that pockmark the landscape all around the village. A group of curious children went to look at it.

(KOUNTOUANH in Lao)

My Khountouanh says while out there, some children started digging for insects. Their shovel hit a cluster bomb. The explosion killed four of them. Five kids nearby were injured.

(KOUNTOUANH in Bruu)

He says three of his four children were hurt. His fourth, his twelve-year-old son, Vi, died during the more than 150 kilometer trip to the provincial hospital. He was just a dozen kilometers short of help.

When talking it villagers, it’s clear many still have a hard time coming to grips with what happened.

(BOUNTHIENG LUANGPHONSOPHA in Lao)

Bounthieng Luangphomsopha still says he and his wife have five children… though since January 17th, they have only four.

His wife Khampeo stares blankly into space as she recounts that day.

(KHAMPEO LUANGPHONSOPHA in Lao)

She says after the blast she remembers running to the site of the accident. She remembers holding her bloodied son in her arms. She remembers the exact number of times he gasped for breath. Once…twice…three times before dying on the spot.

It’s hard to evaluate the psychological toll accidents like these take on villages across the country. It’s just as hard to know more concrete statistics like the number of people killed or wounded. Laos is just beginning to put in place a system to count casualties. What is clear is that along the Ho Chi Minh trail, the vast majority of unexploded bombs still lie on the ground or buried deep enough to be found by a child with a shovel.

Phonehai villagers still avoid the field where the accident happened. The NGO Handicap International has been working with them since. Handicap’s Phetdavanh Sayyasouk took us to the site.

PHETDAVANH SAYYASOUK: “Watch out! Watch your step.”

About a hundred meters from the village, we arrive at a hole in the ground… not much deeper than a ballpoint pen.

SAYYASOUK: “That is where the kids hit the BLU-26”

The BLU-26—the most common of the cluster bombs dropped by the US Air Force.

DAVIS: “The crater, is not… it’s not very deep…”
SAYYASOUK: “No, the BLU-26 explosion, it doesn’t create a very big hole, actually. And it has a lot of bearing balls inside. So, It is a small item but it is very dangerous and very, very powerful.”

There’s no telling what else is under Phonehai village. And until their land is cleared, villagers say the most they can do is warn their children to be careful.

Lea Xayyadath kneels on the ground, holding her two-year-old daughter, Dokjan.

(LEA XAYYADATH in Lao)

She points to shrapnel wounds on her legs. She says they’re scars to remind the little girl for the rest of her life about the dangers that lie beneath.

Jordan Davis, World Radio Switzerland, Phonehai Village, Laos.