Kiukichum was a large village full of Hmong. Quite high in the mountains, it was situated on a wide flat piece of land. The tribespeople were from both Blue and White Hmong (the Blue wearing indigo batik skirts, the White with wide pants and aprons). The Hmongs’ most valuable possessions were their solid silver necklaces. Much of the silver originally came from French piastres. 

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On another occasion, I borrowed a trail bike from Michel, the French volunteer in Luang Prabang, and rode it up a very steep trail in this area. When I got to the top, there was an old Hmong man, sitting outside his hut. He hardly budged at my intrusion, and gestured to me to sit down. We sat in silence looking out over the valley beyond. It was beautiful. There was a field of opium poppies. It was full of Hmong women dressed in their New Year finery, harvesting. I was so excited that I shot a whole roll of colour film. Unfortunately, the film did not wind on, so those pictures are only in my head. That was the first time I made that mistake. The second time was at the ‘landbridge’ on the Cambodian border.

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Opium, for the Hmong, was not only a cash crop. In their own society, it was the equivalent of a pension. The elders (men only) could soothe their aches and pains, and treat their stomach ailments with opium. If a young man started smoking opium, he could be evicted from the village, disowned by the community.