Thailand is a country that has embraced its popularity, and made tourism its number one industry. I think. Or it at least seems that way. Maybe it is just because I have been staying in some of the more touristy towns, but it is pretty clear in the way that everyone speaks at least a little English, there are guesthouses (hostels) in even the most remote of towns, and because in each town, there are scores of "travel agencies" on each block, ready to book your adventure.
One of the more popular activities is trekking. You know, like backpacking. Here it is toted as a 1-3 day adventure with a guide, all-inclusive, that will take you hiking through the "non-touristy" villages, "exciting" whitewater, and riding with an "environmentally-safe" elephant farm. Right. When I was on my way to the put in to go kayaking, I saw these trekkers, not so much in a remote, wild area, but just hiking down the road with their day packs on, and a car shuttling their other stuff. When I passed a girl looking miserably sweaty, programming her ipod right in the middle of culturally-significant Thailand, I decided that maybe the trekking outfit was an industry I could avoid investing in.
But I had to get my culture fix somehow. Quite a few people recommended me to the Cave Lodge up in Soppong, on the way to Mae Hong Son. This is a small town that still caters to tourists, but not quite the spring break '09 crowd. Cave Lodge is about 10km away from Soppong, just steps from their famous limestone caves. Apparently the Australian owner has discovered many of the caves in the area, and opened up the lodge to share what he'd learned with those on holiday. Unfortunately, he was on holiday himself back in Australia, so the benefit of having him (or any other English speaker for that matter) working was removed.
To get there I had to get on a public bus for about 3 hours, then hop on a taxi to the place. This is where I experienced my first cultural faux pas. My giant backpack was just placed in front of the back row, where a very old lady was staring at it quite crankily. Maybe it messed up her foot space? Or she could smell my dirty laundry? The monk in the corner didn't seem to mind, but either way, I was a bit nervous leaving my stuff unattended, and decided when someone got of the back row, I'd move to supervise the luggage. I pulled out my iPod for the first time in Thailand, ready to listen to some new music I got before leaving. Someone got off the back row. Sweet! So I moved back, a woman smiling at me, and was ready to sit down right next to the monk before everyone around me started to freak out, most notably the monk whom I'd just sat beside. I ripped my headphones off, noticed every single little Thai head in that bus just gaping at me, and remembered the buddhist commandment, "Thou shalt keep thy girly butt away from male monks" Right. Members of the opposite sex aren't allowed to sit beside monks, touch monks, or pass anything directly to a monk. Redfaced and over-apologetic, I moved back to the front. Oh the monk was angry; I'm pretty sure he's going to have to sacrifice some extra incense sticks as a result of my western ignorance.
Finally arrived in Soppong, a riverside town with not much to look at, settled in at a cafe and ordered "Fried Glass Noodle", fried being a term the thai use to describe anything that is stir-fried. Soon I was feasting on the best meal I've had in Thailand, Chiang Mai sausage with lemongrass and basil and fried glass noodle. Sausage and pork are huge in Thailand, especially in the north. And the sausage is tangy, like it has been pickled, and mixed with lemongrass. Yum!
Off to get a taxi. Well, the only taxi in Soppong is a motorbike, so the guy plopped my huge rucksack right in between his legs and drove off in the nearing rain. 15 minutes later I was at the famous cave lodge, happy as a clam. When I arrived, people staying there were getting on their tennies to go hiking to the cave, so I joined the crowd after putting my stuff down in the 90 baht/night dorm room (sharing with one other girl, Michelle). That's less than $3 ladies and gentlemen!
At the exit of the cave, exit differing from the entrance in the fact that it is down river, thousands of birds reenter after a long day of doing bird things at sunset. Truly an amazing sight, they just cyclone in to the cave in a strange little pattern, hundreds every second.
That night I made buddies with my South African dormmate and two Aussies who were leaving the next morning. Also in the mix was an American couple, who were nearing the end of their 20 month around-the-world adventure. Talk about inspiring... they married five years earlier and spent the next four years bartending to save up $40,000 for their trip. That night we explained to our foreign friends the mess of American healthcare. It's appalling, really, when you're comparing with other countries how corrupt our system is. I won't get into it, but we're rootin' for you Obama!
The four of us decided to forego a guided trek and just rent a pickup truck. It was nice to have an American good-ol-boy to drive that thing. I can't imagine using a stick shift with my left hand! The goal of the day was to simulate our own trekking adventure, just cover a lot of ground by avoiding walking. We made it to a couple of villages: Lhasa, Karen, Black Karen, and...?
Since we weren't on a guided tour, we just kinda stumbled in and walked around. Eventually a couple of women dressed in tribal gear would come to us with their folded black tarps surrounding the native crafts they made. One of the villages is known for their weaving: I got a really cool scarf I'm excited to rock back in Jackson. Another village boasted neat folded fabric designs, I grabbed myself a jewelry case.
I can't really describe the villages, except that only a few older women really wear the traditional garb, as well as those that wear them for tourist benefit. The majority wear normal clothing and live in little bamboo shacks. What is most facinating to me is that I'm here with my little pack, finding myself and being as hedonistic as possible, anxious to learn as much as a 23 year old possibly can, thinking that I'm just not doing enough with my life wishing I could be like the couple going around the world in 20 months. The people I met that day spend every day just... living. Surviving. Eating, drinking, sleeping, raising children. Some will never go further than 10 km from their home, hoping to sell a scarf to a flashpacker. Many of the women will take the great honor of going to Bangkok to become prostitutes to provide for their families. That is honestly considered noble in these poor secluded villages. Insert existential wisdom here.
All in all, a great day, complete with a 15 baht lunch of noodles with pork balls. The next day I was to leave, but not before getting in some caving.
The giant famous cave is the largest in Thailand, possibly Asia. This was the only one I had time to explore, and we hired a guide with a lantern and a boat, each costing us less than five dollars. The boat is actually a bamboo raft that goes to all the caves. You get out at each of the three, walk around, the guide shows you a stalagtite that looks like a boob or alligator or whatever. It was awesome, and a bit creepy. Bat poop smells like nothing I've ever smelled before and I refuse to smell it again. I seriously thought I was in an Indiana Jones ride at Disney World, though the repulsive smell brought me back to the real world. Got to take some cool pictures, too, which shall certainly be shared on the fbook. Good morning of caving, then it was back on the public bus en route to Bangkok, where I was to meet up with my pal Sarah. Oh Bangkok.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Love and Pai
My journey is split into two different sections: traveling alone in the north and traveling with a friend in the south. The north was recommended first because October marks the end of the hot rainy season, and it would be a bit cooler during this time than the sunny beaches. My second section will be when Sarah from Jackson comes tomorrow. We're doing beaches because that will be more party time, and because Sarah was able to get rooms for us at the Aman resort property in Phuket, a beach resort town in the south.
One of the most lauded cities to visit as a young pseudo-hippy backpacker is Pai. Pai is just that, a hippy town that expects tourists like me to wake up in my bungalow, tour the cool tourist shops, and drink a lot of beer.
I love Pai. Perhaps it is because I have been spending time alone in big cities so much, yet for this excursion I was accompanied by Jean-Baptiste, Yannick, Celine, and Damien, the Frenchies. Our bungalos were little bamboo shacks on stilts with attached bathrooms with no roof. Yes, I took an outdoor shower and I couldn't have been happier. Nothing like taking a chilly shower in the blazing afternoon sun to make you forget your worries.
Pai is surrounded by rivers and hills, and is perfect for doing some waterfall exploration. How to get around? Motorbike! There were four of us that day (Yannick didn't get in until 7 am, so he was sleeping off his hangover), and as Damien had already opened wounds on his body the last time he rode a motorbike, he wasn't keen on sharing. Celine and JB already had one, so I was to be a driver. Terrified as could be. I've been on a motorcycle twice. Once in Jackson one early morning with Crazy Tom durin Garage Sale hunts, the other in 6th grade when I ended up in the hospital from severe burns, incurred from the muffler.
Once I got the hang of it though, I was in love. We vroomed our way up the mountains, winding through small villages, rice paddy fields, and the many other motorbike enthusiasts. I still ache for the feeling again, and am sad that I am once again back in a big city, where any motor vehicle is a bad choice for a foreigner used to driving on the opposite side of the road. We had the bikes for 30 hours, and they brought us safely from each waterfall and vista, back to our favorite German bar for more Chang beer. Don't worry Mom, all of us wore helmets the whole time!
I mostly had a lot of downtime, which was lovely and what a vacation is for. I haven't really been drinking at all on this trip, an occasional beer or two, so I tend to wake up early in the heavy heat before anyone else really rises up to greet the day. The keeper of the bungalow would bring fresh coffee to my front porch served with sweetened condensed milk, and I'd read my book for an hour or so. Then we started the day on the motorbikes.
Many of the thais have tattoos... they are very common here, and many monks get them as part of a ritual, so it is no surprise that the hippy town of Pai is teeming with tatoo parlours. We stopped in to check out one, and Celine was sold. They designed a gecko for her hip, and when she came back the next day to check it out, the electricity was out and they didn't have enough light. So we were asked to come back the next day.
Celine smoked even more cigarettes at once just to get over the anxiety of awaiting her new tattoo. We watched as the guy sharpened the end of a bamboo stick, then wrapped inked thread around a needle. Everything looked very safe and professional, and Celine even got to keep her needle in the end, not only as a souvenir, but to prove that the needles don't get reused. What is neat about the bamboo tatoo is that it may be more painful to begin with, but the healing process only takes 3-5 days. Not a bad deal if you ask me. I'm tempted...
Our last night was fun, and it was bittersweet to know that our time together and in Pai was ending. We played lots of pool, talked a lot about French grammar and expression, and spent most of our time laughing. The morning they left to go back to Bangkok, I headed further up north to explore some more terrain. I almost hopped on a motorbike to get up there, but in the interest of my safety and the safety of others, my love affair with the motorbike will just have to be on hold until I get down to a beach town.
One of the most lauded cities to visit as a young pseudo-hippy backpacker is Pai. Pai is just that, a hippy town that expects tourists like me to wake up in my bungalow, tour the cool tourist shops, and drink a lot of beer.
I love Pai. Perhaps it is because I have been spending time alone in big cities so much, yet for this excursion I was accompanied by Jean-Baptiste, Yannick, Celine, and Damien, the Frenchies. Our bungalos were little bamboo shacks on stilts with attached bathrooms with no roof. Yes, I took an outdoor shower and I couldn't have been happier. Nothing like taking a chilly shower in the blazing afternoon sun to make you forget your worries.
Pai is surrounded by rivers and hills, and is perfect for doing some waterfall exploration. How to get around? Motorbike! There were four of us that day (Yannick didn't get in until 7 am, so he was sleeping off his hangover), and as Damien had already opened wounds on his body the last time he rode a motorbike, he wasn't keen on sharing. Celine and JB already had one, so I was to be a driver. Terrified as could be. I've been on a motorcycle twice. Once in Jackson one early morning with Crazy Tom durin Garage Sale hunts, the other in 6th grade when I ended up in the hospital from severe burns, incurred from the muffler.
Once I got the hang of it though, I was in love. We vroomed our way up the mountains, winding through small villages, rice paddy fields, and the many other motorbike enthusiasts. I still ache for the feeling again, and am sad that I am once again back in a big city, where any motor vehicle is a bad choice for a foreigner used to driving on the opposite side of the road. We had the bikes for 30 hours, and they brought us safely from each waterfall and vista, back to our favorite German bar for more Chang beer. Don't worry Mom, all of us wore helmets the whole time!
I mostly had a lot of downtime, which was lovely and what a vacation is for. I haven't really been drinking at all on this trip, an occasional beer or two, so I tend to wake up early in the heavy heat before anyone else really rises up to greet the day. The keeper of the bungalow would bring fresh coffee to my front porch served with sweetened condensed milk, and I'd read my book for an hour or so. Then we started the day on the motorbikes.
Many of the thais have tattoos... they are very common here, and many monks get them as part of a ritual, so it is no surprise that the hippy town of Pai is teeming with tatoo parlours. We stopped in to check out one, and Celine was sold. They designed a gecko for her hip, and when she came back the next day to check it out, the electricity was out and they didn't have enough light. So we were asked to come back the next day.
Celine smoked even more cigarettes at once just to get over the anxiety of awaiting her new tattoo. We watched as the guy sharpened the end of a bamboo stick, then wrapped inked thread around a needle. Everything looked very safe and professional, and Celine even got to keep her needle in the end, not only as a souvenir, but to prove that the needles don't get reused. What is neat about the bamboo tatoo is that it may be more painful to begin with, but the healing process only takes 3-5 days. Not a bad deal if you ask me. I'm tempted...
Our last night was fun, and it was bittersweet to know that our time together and in Pai was ending. We played lots of pool, talked a lot about French grammar and expression, and spent most of our time laughing. The morning they left to go back to Bangkok, I headed further up north to explore some more terrain. I almost hopped on a motorbike to get up there, but in the interest of my safety and the safety of others, my love affair with the motorbike will just have to be on hold until I get down to a beach town.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
No Monsoon Under the Moon
You may know that I made the decision to come to Asia rather recently, and in the two weeks leading up to my vacation, I tried to convince quite a few people to join me, at least for the first part. I almost succeeded in toting along my friend Claire, but an email a few days before stated her distain for the fact that October is considered the tail end of monsoon season. Well, I’ve spent weeks and weeks in tents in rainforests, so I ordered a new raincoat and was ready for the rainy challenge. Rain shouldn’t phase me, I made sure to waterproof my skin before I headed over the ocean.
So what is the weather like here? Hot. And sweaty. It’s like the first football game of the season at Williams Bryce Stadium in the armpit of the world, Columbia, SC. I never thought I would find a sweatier place than the tailgate of a lifted F 150, chugging my 4th beer of the morning.
I must say that it is not as rainy as promised. It rained my first morning in Bangkok, and then we’ve had one other rainstorm since, and that’s it! I’ve been here almost a week and it has been delightful. In Bangkok I had the pleasure of getting my first hour-long Thai massage next to an open window, letting in the sounds of the calm rainfall. Ahhh peace.
The storm I witnessed the other day was a classic one for a rainy season, it comes through, lasts about 45 minutes, then tapers away. This one, however, had the magic of occurring in the small backpacking town of Pai, in the late afternoon. Just as my French friends and I settled down on the traditional cushions of our favorite German bar, the clouds darkened and the skies rumbled above.
From our raised platform we listened to the sounds of Pink Floyd in concert, played Jenga, and watched as people were drenched. Night started to fall, and just as the first lightning struck, the power went out. Of the entire town. We sat in silence with our drinks, laying out on the mats, trying to keep a candle alive, then enjoyed the moat around the bar grow beyond its capacity. No music, no French or English, just the sounds of nature and the light from cigarettes being puffed. Considering the conditions back in the Tetons (freezing, wet, icy), I couldn’t be more pleased with the weather here.
So what is the weather like here? Hot. And sweaty. It’s like the first football game of the season at Williams Bryce Stadium in the armpit of the world, Columbia, SC. I never thought I would find a sweatier place than the tailgate of a lifted F 150, chugging my 4th beer of the morning.
I must say that it is not as rainy as promised. It rained my first morning in Bangkok, and then we’ve had one other rainstorm since, and that’s it! I’ve been here almost a week and it has been delightful. In Bangkok I had the pleasure of getting my first hour-long Thai massage next to an open window, letting in the sounds of the calm rainfall. Ahhh peace.
The storm I witnessed the other day was a classic one for a rainy season, it comes through, lasts about 45 minutes, then tapers away. This one, however, had the magic of occurring in the small backpacking town of Pai, in the late afternoon. Just as my French friends and I settled down on the traditional cushions of our favorite German bar, the clouds darkened and the skies rumbled above.
From our raised platform we listened to the sounds of Pink Floyd in concert, played Jenga, and watched as people were drenched. Night started to fall, and just as the first lightning struck, the power went out. Of the entire town. We sat in silence with our drinks, laying out on the mats, trying to keep a candle alive, then enjoyed the moat around the bar grow beyond its capacity. No music, no French or English, just the sounds of nature and the light from cigarettes being puffed. Considering the conditions back in the Tetons (freezing, wet, icy), I couldn’t be more pleased with the weather here.
Farangs (foreigners)
I am still in the German bar, but I think I’ve figured a way around the keyboard, by typing in Word! We’ve taken to this bar because it has free pool, the bartenders make us weird dishes to try, and like many bars in Thailand, they play /live\ music.
What I mean by live is that at most bars they are playing a concert DVD from some show which has been downloaded to their hard drive. Right now it’s the Blue Man Group, which my French friends have taken to nicely.
Since we got on the bus to Pai three two days ago, I have spoken French. It’s been an incredibly weird feeling. This is by far the most I have spoken this language since taking French in middle school, literally all day long. It is amazing how few Americans I have met (um, none to be exact, though I have overheard some USA-sounding conversations). So far: French, Austrians, Swiss, Dutch, Israelis, English, and a Scot and Argentinean. And that pretty much sums it up so far. It’s hard to think of the world as not being entirely American. I will say that every single person I speaks English.
What a strange world to live in as an Anglophone. Everybody in the hospitality and tourism industry speaks English, as well as any avid traveler. It’s a bit disorienting to be speaking my foreign language (French) with my friends all day, then turn to the locals here and switch to my native language, 13 hours time difference from home. I find myself often saying “Merci” after receiving my plate of Pad Thai. Last night I had the head-spinning pleasure of sitting between a Frenchman (they’re everywhere!) and an Argentinean. Holy cow.
It is amazing how easy it is to meet others here, it’s just a matter of realizing that while everyone is here for the same reason, you might not be interested in hanging out with them. Like the super clingy 40 year old Swiss, who couldn’t have been nicer, but at the end of the day, I had to duck out of the guesthouse before he invited himself to Pai.
I’m sad that my French friends are heading to Bangkok tomorrow, but I’m not ready to head south yet. I’ll find myself in a small secluded lodge this time tomorrow, hopefully meeting a new batch of culturally engaging buds.
What I mean by live is that at most bars they are playing a concert DVD from some show which has been downloaded to their hard drive. Right now it’s the Blue Man Group, which my French friends have taken to nicely.
Since we got on the bus to Pai three two days ago, I have spoken French. It’s been an incredibly weird feeling. This is by far the most I have spoken this language since taking French in middle school, literally all day long. It is amazing how few Americans I have met (um, none to be exact, though I have overheard some USA-sounding conversations). So far: French, Austrians, Swiss, Dutch, Israelis, English, and a Scot and Argentinean. And that pretty much sums it up so far. It’s hard to think of the world as not being entirely American. I will say that every single person I speaks English.
What a strange world to live in as an Anglophone. Everybody in the hospitality and tourism industry speaks English, as well as any avid traveler. It’s a bit disorienting to be speaking my foreign language (French) with my friends all day, then turn to the locals here and switch to my native language, 13 hours time difference from home. I find myself often saying “Merci” after receiving my plate of Pad Thai. Last night I had the head-spinning pleasure of sitting between a Frenchman (they’re everywhere!) and an Argentinean. Holy cow.
It is amazing how easy it is to meet others here, it’s just a matter of realizing that while everyone is here for the same reason, you might not be interested in hanging out with them. Like the super clingy 40 year old Swiss, who couldn’t have been nicer, but at the end of the day, I had to duck out of the guesthouse before he invited himself to Pai.
I’m sad that my French friends are heading to Bangkok tomorrow, but I’m not ready to head south yet. I’ll find myself in a small secluded lodge this time tomorrow, hopefully meeting a new batch of culturally engaging buds.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Temple Tour
If I make mistakes, it is because I am on a Dutch computer and the apostrophe doesnt exist, and z and y are mixed around. Oh traveling...
One of the most amazing things about the cities and towns and villages and shacks is that there is always a temple near by. In Chiang Mai as well as Bangkok there can be as many as 5 on the same small cityz block. And it is not just a temple building, it involves an entire campus of monk dwellings and pagodas and mini temples and main temples and buddha interpretations. So as I was still waking up earlz everz morning, I followed the advice of the Lonelz Planet, and used to time to scout out the temples before the daz got too hot. The plan was to go in the morning, then take a 3 or 4 hour bus ride to Pai, a small town north of Chiang Mai.
Thez saz zou need to be dressed for the temples... no knees or shoulders showing, so I obliged, despite the heat. And absolutelz no shoes in the temple. Because I am not Buddhist (though I respect the practice immenselz), I know little about the traditions. Apparentlz women are not allowed to look monks in the eze or make phzsical contact. I was a bit nervous to even enter the temple grounds because of the risk of offending the culture as a woman, so I just followed women around the grounds mz first daz in Thailand.
Mz exploration of the temples of Chiang Mai started with the first one I could find, a small one with nobodz in sight. Mazbe the monks were eating rice. Despite this, I was amayed that this building could be left alone bz itself for a moment. Bright laquered red and gold trim surrounded the building, with mirrors and glass and usuallz a buddha statue on the outside. Often there was a sign reminding zou not to smoke on the grounds, and to remove zour shoes. In one of the larger temples, thez even had clothes zou could put on in case zou forgot that shorts and wifebeaters were not smiled upon.
The inside is much like a church in shape and orientation, though instead of a cross there are buddhas of all shapes, generallz gold (though I saw one in Jade), where people can meditate or simplz walk around and take pictures, which I was afraid to do in the first couple of temples I visited. The proper waz to sit is either on zour heels behind zou, or in a mermaid pose, just dont put zour feet forward. Once I saw that pictures were accepted, even encouraged (I saw a buddhist calendar with a drawing of someone with an SLR next to a buddha), I went to town. I canät wait to share the photos with everzbodz.
Perhaps the most amaying thing about the temples is the abundance of real live monks just walking around! Ive never met a monk, nor have I ever learned anzthing about them, reallz. Zoung, old, thez smile, talk with one another, but wear onlz flip flops and orange robes. I read about monk chats that encouraged visitors to engage in conversation with them to learn more about buddhism, but I was a bit nervous to initiate anzthing.
Mz buddha prazer was answered when an orange and brown figure smiled in mz direction and asked if I had anz free time. Why of course! His English was broken, but we had basic small talk, he asked about America, our cultures, etc. He didnät seem to want to talk much about religion, and when asked, said he wanted to practice English. It was a lovelz conversation that lasted nearlz a half hour, then we parted, but not before he asked for mz email, and pulled out a cell phone and took a picture of me! He was 24 zears old and had been a monk for 6 zears. From what I gathered he would be a monk forever. What a lovelz experience.
Eventuallz it got to the point where I would pass a temple and just be too tired to explore it. I spent the entire daz walking around, getting lost, and made it back to the guesthouse minutes after 4, when the last bus left. I ran into mz French friends, who invited me to join them on the waz to Pai the next daz. The drive to Pai was like driving over the pass for 4 hours straight, onlz because of the winding roads. The rest was, well, Thailand.
No matter how basic the homes were, mostlz made out of wood and straw as zou would imagine a small Thai village, thez each had their own beautiful temple, each more elaborate than the last. It is a wonder to be a part of a culture so dedicated to its peaceful deitz, and trulz feel the calm that comes from their worship of such peace.
P.S. Natalie... mz monk friend, Boon Seung, sent zou good vibes and love from his orange robes.
P.P.S. Please excuse the zäs.
One of the most amazing things about the cities and towns and villages and shacks is that there is always a temple near by. In Chiang Mai as well as Bangkok there can be as many as 5 on the same small cityz block. And it is not just a temple building, it involves an entire campus of monk dwellings and pagodas and mini temples and main temples and buddha interpretations. So as I was still waking up earlz everz morning, I followed the advice of the Lonelz Planet, and used to time to scout out the temples before the daz got too hot. The plan was to go in the morning, then take a 3 or 4 hour bus ride to Pai, a small town north of Chiang Mai.
Thez saz zou need to be dressed for the temples... no knees or shoulders showing, so I obliged, despite the heat. And absolutelz no shoes in the temple. Because I am not Buddhist (though I respect the practice immenselz), I know little about the traditions. Apparentlz women are not allowed to look monks in the eze or make phzsical contact. I was a bit nervous to even enter the temple grounds because of the risk of offending the culture as a woman, so I just followed women around the grounds mz first daz in Thailand.
Mz exploration of the temples of Chiang Mai started with the first one I could find, a small one with nobodz in sight. Mazbe the monks were eating rice. Despite this, I was amayed that this building could be left alone bz itself for a moment. Bright laquered red and gold trim surrounded the building, with mirrors and glass and usuallz a buddha statue on the outside. Often there was a sign reminding zou not to smoke on the grounds, and to remove zour shoes. In one of the larger temples, thez even had clothes zou could put on in case zou forgot that shorts and wifebeaters were not smiled upon.
The inside is much like a church in shape and orientation, though instead of a cross there are buddhas of all shapes, generallz gold (though I saw one in Jade), where people can meditate or simplz walk around and take pictures, which I was afraid to do in the first couple of temples I visited. The proper waz to sit is either on zour heels behind zou, or in a mermaid pose, just dont put zour feet forward. Once I saw that pictures were accepted, even encouraged (I saw a buddhist calendar with a drawing of someone with an SLR next to a buddha), I went to town. I canät wait to share the photos with everzbodz.
Perhaps the most amaying thing about the temples is the abundance of real live monks just walking around! Ive never met a monk, nor have I ever learned anzthing about them, reallz. Zoung, old, thez smile, talk with one another, but wear onlz flip flops and orange robes. I read about monk chats that encouraged visitors to engage in conversation with them to learn more about buddhism, but I was a bit nervous to initiate anzthing.
Mz buddha prazer was answered when an orange and brown figure smiled in mz direction and asked if I had anz free time. Why of course! His English was broken, but we had basic small talk, he asked about America, our cultures, etc. He didnät seem to want to talk much about religion, and when asked, said he wanted to practice English. It was a lovelz conversation that lasted nearlz a half hour, then we parted, but not before he asked for mz email, and pulled out a cell phone and took a picture of me! He was 24 zears old and had been a monk for 6 zears. From what I gathered he would be a monk forever. What a lovelz experience.
Eventuallz it got to the point where I would pass a temple and just be too tired to explore it. I spent the entire daz walking around, getting lost, and made it back to the guesthouse minutes after 4, when the last bus left. I ran into mz French friends, who invited me to join them on the waz to Pai the next daz. The drive to Pai was like driving over the pass for 4 hours straight, onlz because of the winding roads. The rest was, well, Thailand.
No matter how basic the homes were, mostlz made out of wood and straw as zou would imagine a small Thai village, thez each had their own beautiful temple, each more elaborate than the last. It is a wonder to be a part of a culture so dedicated to its peaceful deitz, and trulz feel the calm that comes from their worship of such peace.
P.S. Natalie... mz monk friend, Boon Seung, sent zou good vibes and love from his orange robes.
P.P.S. Please excuse the zäs.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
I'm Gonna Be Sick... and it's worth it.
Kayaking!!
Just saying it makes me look back on all the times when I should have succeeded in making it down a river unscathed. I'm not the best kayaker, and I should give up, but that's the point... I can't. It will plague me forever. So when I read in the trusty guidebook about the most legit rafting company in Thailand, I suspected they ran kayaking trips. The only company in Thailand to even have kayaks (how sad).
Upon dropping my bags off at my very basic guesthouse in Chiang Mai, I skipped down the street to the combo organic cafe/rafting office. Just to see what the deal was, I asked about kayaking trips, multi-day programs, and she just loooked at me and asked for a deposit. "Well, you see, I just got here, I'm sick, I'm just not ready... etc. blah blah"
If I wanted to go kayaking, I should get ready to go tomorrow, she explained. So I sniffed my nose, paid a deposit, and went straight to bed, nervous, not knowing exactly what to expect.
Crap. It's 6:00am, and the jet lag combined with the nervous energy has me up too early for my 8:45 meeting time. So I started a blog, and avoided thinking about today.
There were two couples rafting and another Aussie boy kayaking with me. One of the couples was cute as could be, from Erie, PA, and they met in the Peace Corps in Mali. We bonded as we climbed the terrible roads alongside villages and lesser rafting outfits, sometimes passing the traditional "trekking" group, which was full of sweaty 20 somethings walking just on the road with day packs, some listening to iPods. Yech... don't want to be a part of that tour group.
The river is broken up into 3 sections. The first with class 2/3 rapids, the middle with the trecherous 4+ rapids, and the last sections class 2/3 with one 4 rapid. I was optimistic I could do it all, and the guide got Chris (the Aussie) and I out of the van to scout out the rapids, and from a downstream perspective they didn't look so terrible, but terribly technical, and I don't have much experience in creeky rivers. This river is technical and big, pretty intimidating.
Both Chris and I hadn't been paddling in a couple of months, due to our left shoulders being half-way dislocated, so we dedided to warm up a bit. The difference in our abilities is that I've been kayaking for little less than a year, and he started in 2000. So roll attempt numbers 1, 2, 3 failed, and finally 4, 5, and 6 succeeded. Then I failed the rest. Oh geez, my heart was a bit broken, but I was told I could do the first and third sections, and hop in the raft for the middle section.
A bit defeated, but after a lunch of delicous thai (including sticky rice and banana wrapped in something), we were off! Warm water, what a delight. I only got worked a little bit in the first section, and swallowed a ton of the murky brown water, that villagers bathe in and elephants read the paper in. Elephants?
We were paddling alongside the nature preserve, an amazing facility designed to house retired elephants that have been abused into slavery. Now you can pay a ton of money to "volunteer" there, and play with the elephants. Instead, we paddled mere feet from the bathing elephants, some wild, some chained up. Passing by old thatched-roof homes of ancient small communities, I thought to myself how amazing this opportunity was.
Section 2 was some of the most treacherous whitewater I've ever seen. Dear heavens thank goodness I was in a raft, and still I was nervous. The company was great, they had many more guides than actual customers, and set up swiftwater rescue at almost all of the rapids. The two kayak guides, A and Sa as well as Chris all ended up upsidedown on a couple of the rapids, making you wonder how I would have ended up on every single one. A is the playboat champion of Thailand, and Sa is the slalom champion. I asked how many kayakers were in Thailand, he said less than 10.
Back in the kayak for the last section, it was time to appreciate exactly where I was. An amazing floral rainforest, next to Thais getting along with their day-to-day chores. Sa and I became pretty good buddies, and he told me to come back the next day. Much too tired, needing to save money, I politely declined, but said maybe next week.
Though I swallowed elephant poo water and scraped up nearly every joint in my body in the small kayak, it was an amazing experience I will never forget. Now I just need to chill out some place to catch my breath, and stop waking up at 6 am.
Just saying it makes me look back on all the times when I should have succeeded in making it down a river unscathed. I'm not the best kayaker, and I should give up, but that's the point... I can't. It will plague me forever. So when I read in the trusty guidebook about the most legit rafting company in Thailand, I suspected they ran kayaking trips. The only company in Thailand to even have kayaks (how sad).
Upon dropping my bags off at my very basic guesthouse in Chiang Mai, I skipped down the street to the combo organic cafe/rafting office. Just to see what the deal was, I asked about kayaking trips, multi-day programs, and she just loooked at me and asked for a deposit. "Well, you see, I just got here, I'm sick, I'm just not ready... etc. blah blah"
If I wanted to go kayaking, I should get ready to go tomorrow, she explained. So I sniffed my nose, paid a deposit, and went straight to bed, nervous, not knowing exactly what to expect.
Crap. It's 6:00am, and the jet lag combined with the nervous energy has me up too early for my 8:45 meeting time. So I started a blog, and avoided thinking about today.
There were two couples rafting and another Aussie boy kayaking with me. One of the couples was cute as could be, from Erie, PA, and they met in the Peace Corps in Mali. We bonded as we climbed the terrible roads alongside villages and lesser rafting outfits, sometimes passing the traditional "trekking" group, which was full of sweaty 20 somethings walking just on the road with day packs, some listening to iPods. Yech... don't want to be a part of that tour group.
The river is broken up into 3 sections. The first with class 2/3 rapids, the middle with the trecherous 4+ rapids, and the last sections class 2/3 with one 4 rapid. I was optimistic I could do it all, and the guide got Chris (the Aussie) and I out of the van to scout out the rapids, and from a downstream perspective they didn't look so terrible, but terribly technical, and I don't have much experience in creeky rivers. This river is technical and big, pretty intimidating.
Both Chris and I hadn't been paddling in a couple of months, due to our left shoulders being half-way dislocated, so we dedided to warm up a bit. The difference in our abilities is that I've been kayaking for little less than a year, and he started in 2000. So roll attempt numbers 1, 2, 3 failed, and finally 4, 5, and 6 succeeded. Then I failed the rest. Oh geez, my heart was a bit broken, but I was told I could do the first and third sections, and hop in the raft for the middle section.
A bit defeated, but after a lunch of delicous thai (including sticky rice and banana wrapped in something), we were off! Warm water, what a delight. I only got worked a little bit in the first section, and swallowed a ton of the murky brown water, that villagers bathe in and elephants read the paper in. Elephants?
We were paddling alongside the nature preserve, an amazing facility designed to house retired elephants that have been abused into slavery. Now you can pay a ton of money to "volunteer" there, and play with the elephants. Instead, we paddled mere feet from the bathing elephants, some wild, some chained up. Passing by old thatched-roof homes of ancient small communities, I thought to myself how amazing this opportunity was.
Section 2 was some of the most treacherous whitewater I've ever seen. Dear heavens thank goodness I was in a raft, and still I was nervous. The company was great, they had many more guides than actual customers, and set up swiftwater rescue at almost all of the rapids. The two kayak guides, A and Sa as well as Chris all ended up upsidedown on a couple of the rapids, making you wonder how I would have ended up on every single one. A is the playboat champion of Thailand, and Sa is the slalom champion. I asked how many kayakers were in Thailand, he said less than 10.
Back in the kayak for the last section, it was time to appreciate exactly where I was. An amazing floral rainforest, next to Thais getting along with their day-to-day chores. Sa and I became pretty good buddies, and he told me to come back the next day. Much too tired, needing to save money, I politely declined, but said maybe next week.
Though I swallowed elephant poo water and scraped up nearly every joint in my body in the small kayak, it was an amazing experience I will never forget. Now I just need to chill out some place to catch my breath, and stop waking up at 6 am.
Out of Bangkok
So Bangkok was a bit overwhelming, and I'm still working through the jet lag, which is pretty all-encompassing. On top of being sick, I'm tired and rather apathetic. As much as I'm enjoying traveling alone, I have little drive to pay for a taxi alone, go to a landmark alone, and take pictures alone. And that's what you do in Bangkok when you're alone.
While doing the daily baby check (Natalie should have it any day now!), I told my mom of my intentions to hop on a bus and get up to Chiang Mai. How long is it, she asked. 12 hours. Well what about a train? 15 hours. You should take a plane. Yeah mom, but that's like 60 dollars.
Hang on. Think about this. On hour number 9, I'm probably going to say to myself that I would have paid AT LEAST 40 extra dollars to not be blowing my nose on a cramped bus full of other people blowing their nose. So I flew.
Getting online and purchasing a ticket for a flight 4 hours later is rather liberating. I took a taxi to the domestic airport, checked in, and received a receipt as a boarding pass. Freakin' awesome. I've forgotten how awesome an hour long flight is, just a hop, skip, jump away. AND they gave us three pieces of sushi as the airline snack. The airline is Nok, the low-cost subsidiary of Thai Airlines, and I'll probably do that for the rest of the time here in Asia.
Now I'm in Chiang Mai, where the activities abound and the backpacker scene flourishes. This is where I'll go kayaking, and fight the urge to attend every single class available to me. Thai cooking? Meditation and Buddhism? Thai yoga massage? Muai Thai boxing? Weaving?? The opportunities abound. The money... not so much.
If anyone would like to sponsor a thai massage or cooking school for me, please send a check to my family, and you will forever have a cooked meal or limber body when I return. Good investment for both of us...
While doing the daily baby check (Natalie should have it any day now!), I told my mom of my intentions to hop on a bus and get up to Chiang Mai. How long is it, she asked. 12 hours. Well what about a train? 15 hours. You should take a plane. Yeah mom, but that's like 60 dollars.
Hang on. Think about this. On hour number 9, I'm probably going to say to myself that I would have paid AT LEAST 40 extra dollars to not be blowing my nose on a cramped bus full of other people blowing their nose. So I flew.
Getting online and purchasing a ticket for a flight 4 hours later is rather liberating. I took a taxi to the domestic airport, checked in, and received a receipt as a boarding pass. Freakin' awesome. I've forgotten how awesome an hour long flight is, just a hop, skip, jump away. AND they gave us three pieces of sushi as the airline snack. The airline is Nok, the low-cost subsidiary of Thai Airlines, and I'll probably do that for the rest of the time here in Asia.
Now I'm in Chiang Mai, where the activities abound and the backpacker scene flourishes. This is where I'll go kayaking, and fight the urge to attend every single class available to me. Thai cooking? Meditation and Buddhism? Thai yoga massage? Muai Thai boxing? Weaving?? The opportunities abound. The money... not so much.
If anyone would like to sponsor a thai massage or cooking school for me, please send a check to my family, and you will forever have a cooked meal or limber body when I return. Good investment for both of us...
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