THE PLAIN OF JARS

The Plain of Jars is a megalithic, a large stone that has been made into a structure, archaeological landscape in Laos and scattered throughout this landscape are thousands of jars. Clusters of jars appear in groups of a few to upwards of several hundred. Early research indicates these jars were part of an ancient burial practice by peoples of the early Iron Age. Later research supports this interpretation after the discovery of human remains, burial goods, and ceramics around the jars. The Plain of Jars is dated to the Iron Age (500 BC to 500 AD) and is considered one of the most important prehistoric sites in Southeast Asia. It provides a glimpse into the complex societies of prehistoric people and insight into the social organization of the Iron Age.

Varying size megalithic jars litter the landscape.

Children playing demonstrate the overall size of the jars.

Thousands of jars litter the landscape. Approximately 90 sites containing clusters of jars each hewn from a single stone. There are no lids found at any of the sites suggesting they were made from perishable materials. Believed to be of the Iron Age each sandstone jar was chisled using some of the first medal tools ever made.

The Secret wars in Laos was a sideshow to the Vietnam war yet this strategic area know as The Plain of Jars was heavily contested. From the French Indo-China Wars to Lao's Civil War then on to the main event Vietnam The Plain of Jars took a beating. Yet non of the previous wars including Vietnam could compare to the utter devastation the U.S. bombing campaign unleashed on this area. Several airfields were built with connecting roads to stretch across areas of Laos adding to the conflict as U.S. backed Laotian forces fought North Vietnamese forces siding with the Leftist government. Bombing missions on both The Plain of Jars and the Ho Chi Minh Trail devastated the landscape.

The 14 year struggle for The Plain of Jars was particularly hard on the Hmong people living on the high mountain ridges. At one point the Hmong, numbering 300,000 people, fought in so many battles they lost 10 percent of their population. The Hmong eventually were driven from their homes and relocated in CIA supported camps. When the end of the war came most settled in Thailand and the U.S.

Many of the 580,000 sorties (one plane one mission) were over The Plain of Jars. In addition to these sorties many bombing missions returning from Vietnam would also drop unused munitions. Since The Plain of Jars lies between Vietnam and air bases in Thailand it was a perfect place to lighten the load and return empty. Countless missions ended this way each day and it is impossible to determine the extent of damage or the amount of munitions dropped. Since it is estimated that 30 percent of the bombs didn't explode there are hundreds of thousands of unexplored munitions in The Plain of Jars.

The archaeological importance of this area is overshadowed by the damage  American bombing caused. In addition to the needless devastation studying the area is impeded by the threat of these unexploaded bombs as craters pockmark the landscape and many jars lie in rubble. Narrowly defined paths are the only areas cleared to walk through the Plain Of Jars and one step outside these areas could be your last.

World organizations like Mines Advisory Group 

have been working in Laos since 1994.

Painstaking patience is needed to unearth a single bomb, there are hundreds of thousands.

Laotian workers helped by world organizations defuse one bomb at a time.

Everyday pheasant farmers go out into the jungle to clear a piece of land 

and everyday an American bomb hidden for 50 years explodes.

A new business for poor Laotians is scrap metal. Used munitions are gathered dailey by untrained bomb defusers and everyday an accident occurs. Here piles of cluster bombs are weighed for sale.

Conventional American bombs are lined up in junk yards waiting to be recycled.

I crossed the ancient footpaths following the original Ho Chi Minh Trail to the border town of Phonsavanh Laos. I came for the unique architecture not found anywhere else in the world. Phonsavanh boasts an architecture of UXO's (unexploaded ordinances) found in almost every old structure in town. Cafe patios surrounded by 500 pound bomb casings dot the main eating establishments and line not only the main thoroughfare but the back streets as well. Bombs cut in half second as flower planters and adorn the sidewalks sending a poignant message. 

The surrounding landscape of Phonsavanh was a moonscape of bomb craters nestled between herds of cows and water buffalo and crops in the fields. The indigenous simply work around the huge holes in the ground and go about their everyday life. 

I literally found hundreds of these bomb craters. They are so big that after fifty years they still dominate the landscape and some remain thirty feet deep. In the middle of this surreal world of apocalyptic American air supremacy is The Plain of Jars. Following the MAG (Mine Advisory Group) markers I stayed on the narrow footpaths and wondered through the jars. I was careful not to wonder into the mine fields clearly marked by the signs. Clusters of a hundred jars followed by just a few I stood in awe. Prehistoric man meets the sheer devastation of modern man in an orchestrated ballet of sorts. It was a work of art I was witnessing and a reminder that perhaps man hasn't evolved as much as he would like to think. It was hauntingly obvious we are in trouble.  

Sitting in a roadside cafe for lunch in Phonsavanh I ordered my usual veggies when a group of what appeared to be businessmen walked past me and sat across the room. The six men around my age were engaged in heavy conversation and the only words I could understand were American and Vietnam. I assumed they were talking about me. One man got up and approached me and the only word he could get out was American, pointing at me. I said yes and he immediately went back to his seat and the heavy discussion continued. Eventually a second man got up and approached me with a big piece of melon in his hand. Once again he said American but this time he added the word Vietnam. Again, I said yes. With that he broke his melon in half and offered me a piece as if he were sharing the host. With tears in my eyes I took it and eye to eye we bowed to each other. The war was over. Today was a remarkable day.

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