Next stop: Malaysia

Erawan Falls

I'm on a train, traveling from Bangkok to Hat Yai (Thai town near the Malaysian border). The scenery is beautiful, and surprising. In the span of a couple of miles, we'll pass factories, mountains, farms (with teak, cattle, sugar cane, banana trees, etc.), run-down blocks of tiny houses that look like they're about to crumble, areas of obvious wealth, palm trees, forests, marshes, a river, land that's been burned black (slash-and-burn is still a widely used approach to agriculture here)... If you look out the window, close your eyes for ten or fifteen seconds (not exaggerating) and open your eyes again, the picture you see will be dramatically different.

Twenty hours from now, I'll arrive in Hat Yai, find a place to sleep for the night, and take off the next day for somewhere in Malaysia. I decided to get out of Bangkok before the big Supreme Court decision regarding the assets of the former Prime Minister. The political party supporting him has said that they will protest and demonstrate in Bangkok if the ruling is against him. It *should* all remain peaceful, but just in case, it seems like a good time to head south. I'll probably hit a few cities on my way to the southern part of peninsular Malaysia, then hop on a flight to Malaysian Borneo to trek through the jungle and snorkel off the island coasts.

After Ayutthaya, I came down to Bangkok, staying in a guesthouse in the Khao San area, which is the "backpackers' ghetto." The area was certainly worth seeing, but except for the people working, there wasn't a local in sight. It was, however, convenient to the Grand Palace and a few must-see temples, so I stuck around for a few days. The temples were incredible; the detail in every statue, every building, every walkway... I can't begin to imagine how much work went into building them. The only bad thing was that almost everything was outdoors, and the sun was beating down. I have no idea how locals manage to walk around wearing double the amount of clothing I'm wearing yet somehow seem cool and comfortable, while I'm paying double what I need to for my sleeping arrangements just to have some air-conditioning.

The head of the 46-foot-long Reclining Buddha  

The length of Reclining Buddha's body.

After seeing the Grand Palace, Temple of the Emerald Buddha (which is actually jasper... and quite small, but lovely), and Temple of the Reclining Buddha (which is 46 meters long, 15 meters high, and whose feet have mother-of-pearl inlays), I had to go back to my room for a nice cool shower and a nap. On my way, I was approached by a homeless(?) woman who had about eight or ten bags of dried corn kernels in her arms. I said no thank you, but she dumped two bags of corn into my hands, grabbed my arm, pulled me toward an open area just off the sidewalk, and started dumping the corn onto the ground. She said it was for "good luck." I'm not sure how lucky I felt as the 89,000 pigeons flew down and fought over the grub, landing on my feet, arms and hands. She tried to charge me a small fortune for being attacked by dirty pigeons... Not sure I should have given her anything, but I did, since I let myself get suckered. I gave her more than what seemed reasonable, which was still much less than she wanted, and walked away while she yelled at me, presumably about how I had just reversed my good pigeon luck by being stingy.

That night, I headed to the night market on Khao San Road. (I LOVE Thailand's night markets! They're brilliant: great bargains on all sorts of goodies, fascinating people-watching, and delicious - and cheap - food.) The entire street was full of cheap clothing and jewelry, people offering to braid your hair or give you dreadlocks (I was *this* close to getting dreads, just to say I did, until I realized that I'd have to chop my hair off to get rid of them), restaurants and bars full of stoned/drunk tourists, a variety of food vendors, people offering to take you to sex shows, and people selling fake certificates/licenses/degrees/any ID or credential you'd like them to make for you. If anyone would like to magically be a pilot or Ph.D., make an offer and I'll see what I can do. :)

The next day, I hopped on a river taxi to get a different view of the city, and after I got off, I wandered around for awhile before deciding I needed to tackle all modes of Bangkok's public transportation system. I picked a return route that would have me using the sky train and subway, both of which were quite modern and easy to navigate. Not so easy is the very extensive bus system, as I would find out the following day on my way to Kanchanaburi. Not only are the routes nearly impossible to figure out, the process of merely CATCHING the bus is complicated and kind of dangerous: first, the bus may or may not pull up to the curb. Often, it just stops in the middle of the street and people run out into traffic to catch it. Also, it doesn't stop unless someone wants to get off, or someone on the sidewalk flags it down. As it approaches a stop, the driver honks the horn and if it's your bus, you'd better start waving or it won't stop. When it does "stop," it's normally within a block of the official bus stop, and it may just slow down enough to let people board, then will continue driving without ever having come to a complete stop.

I thought I'd done a great job of figuring out how to get to the bus station where I would catch the bus to Kan. Two incorrect bus stops, three helpful locals, one wrong bus, and two transfers later I realized how wrong I was! Even then, I stood at the "bus station," which was an outdoor seating area near where all the buses were parked, only to find out that the stop I wanted was a block away, in what looked like a deserted parking lot, except for the old man sitting on a bench who apparently worked for the bus system in some capacity. Once I finally got on the "right" bus, I bought my ticket to Kan and settled in. Five minutes later, we pulled up to what actually looked like a bus station, and everyone else got off the bus. The woman who had just sold me my ticket told me I needed to show it to her again, and motioned for me to stay seated as we looped the parking lot. At this point, I was told to get off the bus, show her my ticket again, and get on another bus (where I showed my ticket one more time)which FINALLY was the bus that would take me to Kanchanaburi. AAGGHHHHHH!! And I even bought the bus map!

When I arrived in Kan, I checked into an adorable rafthouse which floated on the river and was surrounded by lilypads. Beautiful! Sadly, the bed was horrendous: so many springs stabbing me that I would have been better off giving up and sleeping on the floor (which I might have done except that I was sharing my room with several geckos). The next day, I checked into a place across the street, rented a motorbike and started exploring. Kan is an adorable town, full of rich WWII history, and is the site of the famous Bridge on the River Kwai. Interestingly, the author of the book (yes, there's a book) assumed that since the railroad line ran parallel to the River Kwai for a good distance, that the bridge must have crossed the same river. This wasn't the case - the bridge actually crossed what was formerly called the Mae Khlung River. After the book and movie came out and tourists began traveling to see the now-famous bridge, the river was renamed to make the book accurate. Talk about rewriting history. :)

I spent one day museum-going, learning about the construction of the railway by POWs under Japanese control, and the devastating conditions under which they were forced to work (tens of thousands of POWs died building the "Death Railway", as it's now known). I read about the bridge itself, which was brought over from Java and reconstructed (also by POWs). It was later bombed by Allied forces, destroying a large section of it, and was again rebuilt. In current pictures, you can see rounded and squared sections of the bridge. The rounded segments are the originals, and the squared sections are those that had to be rebuilt after the bombing. Trains still run on the Death Railway, and I took one of those trains when I went back to Bangkok.

The center of the bridge is the part that was rebuilt after the war.  

 The next day, I rode my rented motorbike for an hour and a half up to Erawan Falls - a seven-tier waterfall. It was a lot of fun: great hiking, swimming in refreshing (read: cold) pools, and having fish nibble on your toes as you tried to climb into the water. (Okay, so that last part was a little awkward, especially since some of the fish were big enough to remove a chunk of flesh if they felt like it, but it was still amusing.) I would love to see the falls during the rainy season when the water level is high, but it was still great, as was the hike through the noisy forest.

My last day in Kan, I decided to try this whole elephant thing again, this time at a sanctuary. The project manager of Elephant's World spent over an hour with me, explaining each elephant's story, what care is required, and random pachyderm trivia bits. An elephant has - wait for it - 100,000 muscles in its tongue. That's five times as many muscles as are in the human body... IN JUST ITS TONGUE. The skin is about 3 inches thick, and they tend to live about 75 years or so. Also, when they go to a water source, they will drink before going all the way in to bathe. This is apparently to be able to get a clean drink before kicking up dirt and such from the river.

I went to the camp at a great time, if perhaps two months too early. One of the elephants in this camp is 60 years old and about 22 months pregnant. She's due to give birth sometime in the next two months (they aren't 100% sure because she was already pregnant before this camp opened). You could actually see the calf twisting and kicking around inside this poor mother - he was not small!

The kiddo is the big section of her belly that's jutting out at a weird angle.

Back in Bangkok, I stayed in a hotel - a REAL hotel! After several weeks of traveling backpacker-style, even the simplest things seemed like luxuries. The hot shower, the elevator to my room, the in-room safe, the complimentary water and breakfast, the comfortable bed... felt like heaven! Tonight I'll sleep on the train, and tomorrow I will likely be back to an uncomfortable bed in a tiny room... with geckos on the wall, singing me to sleep.

Random observations...

Just some random things I've noticed and experienced while I've been here...

Things I've seen on motorbikes:

A guy sitting passenger, carrying a live chicken under his shirt. He laughed when I did a double take.

A woman carrying two bunnies in a cage on her bike handle.

People sitting three to a bike. You should be able to manage this comfortably.

Women in heels. And skirts. Often sitting passenger - sideways, and not holding on. (When I'm passenger, I'm holding on for dear life, certain that my death is imminent.)

Small children, even toddlers, sit comfortably on motorbikes with their legs tucked up in front of them and parents sitting behind them.

I saw guy on his bike got hit by a truck. He wobbled, regained control, turned to glare, and kept driving.


Driving:

When driving, watch out for: water buffalo, chickens, pigs, tourist pedestrians who think the entire road is theirs for the taking, sleeping dogs, horses, etc.

(Note: The next few things are technically illegal, but they occur all the time and seem to be accepted.)

You do not actually have to stop for red lights. You sort of yield, but if nothing is coming, there's no point in waiting out the light if you don't feel like it.

You may drive on the wrong side of the road, provided: 1) you are on a motorbike or bicycle; 2) you stay on the curb side of the street; 3) you want to. This seems to be true especially if, to get where you want to be, you would otherwise have to drive even a few feet out of your way and do a u-turn in order to stay on the correct side of the street.

If a road is drawn with two lanes in either direction, you should make this into AT LEAST three lanes. Lane boundaries need not be obeyed. The middle of the road (where one might find double-yellow lines, for instance) is up for grabs. If you would like to use this lane for passing, please do so. Try to avoid oncoming traffic, but in case of potential confrontations, see the next "rule."

If you honk your horn, you are claiming right-of-way. Possible exception: the other vehicle is bigger than you.


Language, money and one-on-one interactions:

"Yes" does not always mean yes. It may also mean "no" or "I don't know." It is apparently impolite or considered to be unsatisfactory to simply give "no" as an answer, so take "yes" with a grain of salt. I have not yet figured out the appropriate way of saying "no," but most of the people I've met seem to give Westerners the pass on this, as long as you also smile and say "thank you."

I've been in many a photo with strangers. As a "farang" (I've heard several definitions: tourist, white person, westerner, anyone who's NOT Thai...), you will be approached by random people who will ask for a picture with you. It's a bit odd, but I suppose no more odd than the sea of farangs who go to tribal villages and want photos of the people who don't look or live like they do...

Touch (especially between women) seems to be very accepted. When I'm having a pleasant conversation with a woman, or say/do something she finds funny or flattering, she may grab my hand (and hold it for a bit), leg or shoulder while she laughs.

"Where you going?" almost ALWAYS means, "I drive a taxi or tuk-tuk and will take you there for a price. You might be able to talk me down to something reasonable if you try hard enough."

Almost every street vendor (for goods, not for food) has "special price for you," which he will often type into a calculator for you (to eliminate confusion). This is generally close to double what should actually be paid. If you say no or start to walk away, the calculator is given to you with the question, "how much you pay me?" Now it's your move.

I've been surprised by how many people will go far out of their way to help: Once, I was standing in the rain, trying to figure out where to catch my bus, and a woman asked me where I was headed, took me by the hand and walked me to where I needed to be, then interpreted for me. (This type of kindness has been very common, and incredibly appreciated.)

My pronunciation (if I don't have someone to copy who pronounces it correctly) is so terrible that I was sent to a bus for Phuket when I was trying to ask for a bus to Kanchanaburi. However, if someone says a word slowly and lets me copy them, I am generally complimented on my pronunciation the next time I say it. Lesson: Thai needs to be learned orally, not from a book.

ATMs dispense 1,000 baht notes by default. (I finally figured out that if I ask for 1,900THB, I will at least get a 500 note and four 100 notes, which is helpful, but any fast-cash options will be in multiples of 1,000.) After going to an ATM, it is wise to stop at 7-11, buy water or snacks for 20 or 30 baht, and get change. Otherwise, you will have a hard time spending your "big money." Even 100s can be tough to spend. A taxi driver charging 60 baht will scoff and ask for "small money!" if given 100 baht and asked for change. Since many food and drink options cost between 10 and 30 baht, it is good to have 20s on hand, as well as 1, 2, 5, and 10 baht coins.

Tigers and elephants and temples, oh my!

Two weeks. This is how long they say it should take to acclimate to a tropical climate.  Two weeks for the fatigue, sweats and swollen legs to dissipate. I think today probably counts as day one, since my first two weeks were spent in the cooler, dryer climate of northern Thailand.  Today was a bit of a shock to my system.  I was pretty tired when my train got in. They'd already sold out of sleeper cabins when I bought my ticket, so I was stuck on a broken seat that reclined a bit, next to a drunk guy who sang in his sleep and smelled like he'd lost control of his bodily functions.  Suffice it to say, I hadn't slept much.  When I got off the train (which had been air conditioned to near-arctic temps), I was startled to notice how hot and humid it was, considering it was only 8am.  I stripped off a layer and went to find the ferry to get into the "island" of Ayutthaya.  (It's surrounded on all sides by rivers, so it is technically an island, but it doesn't quite fit the image that the word conjures up.) I was stopped by a tuk-tuk driver who bargained down to a decent price for a taxi ride into town. It was significantly more than a ferry ride would have cost (though still only about $1.50), but worth it to me since he said his price would include him driving me from guesthouse to guesthouse until I found one that suited me. I hadn't done much research on where to stay, and truthfully had no idea where to start, so this sounded like a brilliant offer to me.

Almost all of the Buddha statues here were badly damaged in the 1700s during war with the Burmese.

After finding a place that worked for me, I grabbed a shower, rented a bicycle, was given a few safety tips and a map, and was on my way. I wasn't entirely sure which sites I wanted to hit, but the map had pictures and brief listings of what could be expected at each wat. There was only one that I knew for sure I wanted to see, so I decided to head in that direction.  I hopped on the rusty old one-speed (whose chain threatened to fall off every half-block or so) and tried to make sure my skirt would neither get caught on something nor fly up, flashing the neighborhood. Admittedly, a skirt and flip-flops were not ideal for my bike day.

I pedaled over to a couple different wats, opting not to pay to go inside until I arrived at the one I really wanted to see.  Sadly, I got myself a bit confused; after biking around for awhile, I realized that the very first wat I'd passed by was I'd been looking for. Doh! I tried to make my way back, stopping here and there for some shade, a cold drink, and re-application of sunscreen. I eventually found where I wanted to be, payed my 50 baht and wandered around the old ruins for a bit.  My quest was to find the buddha head entwined in tree roots that I keep seeing in pictures, and I was surprised by how small and unimposing it was. It's quite beautiful, but somehow it always seemed bigger in my head.

The Buddha head at Wat Mahathat.

After a few hours of seeing temples and ruins, I was hot and getting a bit grumpy.  I'd tried to talk to several people throughout the morning, using my very best Thai (I only know a few phrases, and I always butcher words when I try to read them, but I've been told that my pronunciation is quite good once I've heard someone say it correctly). Nearly every time I tried to talk to someone, I was greeted rudely, if at all. Perhaps it was just a cranky day in this town, but I encountered far more rude people today than I have in the past few weeks combined. I was contemplating staying here for a couple days, but the mood of the place isn't working for me, so I'll head out for Bangkok some time tomorrow.  Not sure how long I'll hang out there (I can always spend more time there later, since it is my departing city...), but after Bangkok, I'm going to head for more rural areas. I want wild animals, jungles, rice paddies, waterfalls... in short, I'm in the mood to be away from big crowds and throngs of tourists.

The last few days have been interesting for me. There's one to-do item that I've deleted from my list, and there's another I checked off my list but wish I'd deleted (or at least done differently).  Chiang Mai and Pai are both hubs for heading to visit the hill tribes, but after hearing people's stories of their visits, I decided against going.  The stories I heard were of people cramming into a tour bus, which would head to one of several tribal villages up to an hour outside of town.  When the bus pulled up (next to five or ten other tour buses), the tourists trotted out, cameras in hand, and were greeted by a group of people in traditional tribal dress who would spend their day posing for hundreds of photos.  This wasn't an experience I wanted. It was a photo-op - a glorified "freak show," as one person put it.  This was not an opportunity to see how the tribes lived, to sneak a peak into their routine; it was just the opposite. It was replacing their traditional routine with tour buses and gawkers with cameras. If I come across an opportunity to spend a night in a tribal village (without dozens of tourists), I might take it... but this way felt like I would be paying to disrupt the very lifestyle that intrigued me in the first place. I hope this doesn't sound melodramatic; I'm just trying to explain my thought process.

This was really neat, but I'd do it differently if I could go back.

The elephant ride I went on is the part I wish I could undo.  I was really excited about seeing them, watching them play... I'd read about some places that are really abusive to the animals, others that are sanctuaries, and still more that fall somewhere in between.  I thought I'd found one of the sanctuary-type elephant camps online, and I set out to find it.  When I arrived, I only saw three elephants and a small platform from which people could get positioned to ride them. This seemed much smaller than the place I'd read about, so I asked and was told yes, I was in the right place.  I assumed (incorrectly? I'm still not sure) that this was just an offshoot of the main camp, for people who aren't spending the night. I payed the woman my money for a ride and was rushed onto a small (relatively) elephant. I was told that he was nine years old and still had lots of growing to do.  His spine was very pronounced, which I noticed for the entire hour of my ride, since we rode bareback.  I'd recommend a saddle of some sort if you decide to do a ride of your own - NOT comfortable.  Anyway, after I was situated (the guide was minimally helpful in telling me where and how to sit, just that I wasn't doing it correctly), the guide grabbed his tool: a wooden baton/handle about two inches in diameter and roughly two feet long, which has a metal barb (a few inches long) attached to one end.  I'm told this is a tool that's used by all trainers, but that the good ones shouldn't really have to use it much.  My guy did use it.  A lot.  He would yell at the elephant, and if it didn't immediately respond, he would position the barb behind the elephant's ear and pull, digging the barb into the ear until the elephant started walking in the right direction.  He also hit the animal on the legs when he wasn't moving fast enough.  They weren't full-force blows, but they weren't just taps, either.  Now, in fairness, I recognize that I don't know how to train elephants. I don't know how much pressure they need before they feel something and I don't know at what point it crosses over into painful, but I do know that the whole experience left a sour taste in my mouth.  From the stories I've heard from other people, this was certainly not the worst that happens, but it was far from being the treatment offered at the sanctuaries.  I think I'll stick to trying to see a herd in the wild (which I hear is possible in the national park I'm visiting next week). It's not the captivity that bothers me - I fully understand that it helps keep them from extinction - but I wish I hadn't paid to support what looks like poor treatment of the animals. It was really neat to get to ride one, but if I could do it over, I'd make sure I was supporting better conditions.

Hanging out with my new pal Sticky Rice.

Not to end on a sour note, I've saved the awesome tiger story for last. They were beautiful! After the previous day's elephant ride, I did quite a bit of research on the tiger visit and monkey show that I was planning. I ended up deciding to pass on the monkey show, as it sounded kind of sketchy, but the tiger kingdom got rave reviews. They also have a lot of information available about what techniques and tools they do and don't utilize, as well as explanations as to why.  It sounded like a great place, so I negotiated a round-trip fare with a songthaew driver and away we went.  There were different package deals you could get depending on which tigers you wanted to play with, and I decided to go with three full-grown tigers. When they call your number, you're allowed down to the paths with the enclosures.  About half of the tigers are hanging out on their own while the others are being petted and photographed. You can see all of them in their enclosures while you wait to be taken in to see "your" tigers, you just can't get as close to them.  One guy - who didn't seem to get the importance of the rules - walked past a barrier, stuck his face right up to the enclosure and made obnoxious noises to one of the tigers. He continued to taunt (with his wife laughing and snapping pics) even after the tiger roared at him a few times (which I'm assuming meant: back off, jerk; I'm napping but I'll be happy to wake up long enough to eat you).  That guy is going to win a Darwin award someday, and his wife will probably take pictures of that stupidity, too. 

Now, back to the good stuff... Sticky Rice, Meatball, and Spicy Sausage (yes, apparently all of the tigers are named after foods) were all gorgeous. Meatball was my favorite: adorable and gentle, yet a wee bit sassy.  There's a trainer with each tiger, and they are very good about explaining what to do. Your bag has to be left outside, and you're welcome to pet the tiger's belly, back and tail, but don't go near his head. Their fur was soft and beautiful, and they were generally very calm.  If one started to get up, you were immediately told to get back out of the way, and the trainer would hug the head of the tiger and talk to him until he lied back down.  The first time this happened for me was when the trainer was playing with the tiger to try to get a funny photo. He tried to put my sunglasses on Meatball, and Meatball was not having it. He was clearly way too cool for my shades, and he tossed his head back to flip them off.  The head toss seemed to be playful, but it was abrupt, and thus was the catalyst for my being told (calmly but forcefully) to get out of the way. Nothing gets your heart racing like a huge tiger jerking his head in your direction and being told to run. *grin* After a second, Meatball was back to lying down, his trainer stopped teasing him, and I was invited back over to marvel and fawn over my spectacular new pal. I now understand why the guy I met at the airport when I arrived had come back for two months just to volunteer at a tiger sanctuary. (I want one!)

Nice afternoon snooze with Meatball.

Cooking course and a few days in Pai

A few of the dishes I learned to make.

It's been a fantastic week.  I took a cooking class on my last full day in Chiang Mai, which was wonderful.  We started out in their organic garden, learning about several herbs, roots and vegetables, then moved on to the market for an explanation of which kinds of rice and noodles are best for which dishes. We spent the rest of the day cooking and eating... Fantastic!  I left with a recipe book - that is certain to be used until the pages are falling out - and a few favorite dishes: tom yum (a fantastic lemongrass soup), sticky rice with mango, and made-from-scratch red curry paste - which was the base for khao soi (Chiang Mai's curry), red curry and panang.

Lod Cave. Huge and beautiful. The pictures don't do it justice.

I stayed one more night in Chiang Mai and then grabbed a bus north to Pai, a cute little hippie town in northern Thailand.  The bus was old and rickity, and seemed near collapse every time we started up a hill.  The 135 km ride took four hours, thanks to the ancient bus and the 762 curves through mountain roads.  On the ride, I met a couple - Crystal and Jordan - who were also heading to Pai for a few days.  We ended up spending the next few days together, and all liked the area so much that we ended up adding a day to the time we'd planned to stay. We rented motorbikes and wandered around to waterfalls, past hot springs and down to the impressive Lod Cave.  We went on a bamboo raft through several caves, and got out to explore on foot as well.  The caves were HUGE, gorgeous and full of bats.  At the end of our tour, we walked outside the cave to wait for the birds. Depending on who you ask, there are anywhere from 50,000 to 300,000 birds that live in the cave and around sunset, all of them circle overhead and loop down into the mouth of the cave, flying to their nests inside. It was fascinating to see; one instant the sky was empty and quiet, and the next, it was filled with THOUSANDS of birds. The only down side to the day was the 45 km drive back to the room: the winding mountain road was a bit scarier at night, it was COLD, and since our helmets didn't have face shields (and it was too dark for sunglasses) our eyes took a beating from the wind. When we got back to Pai, I ordered soup and tea with dinner to try to defrost, we all got a massage (not sure my new pals agree with me on the awesomeness of the Thai massage) and enjoyed a bit of live music (gotta love the Eagles, the Beatles, and Santana with a Thai accent). When we got back to the room, Jordan saw the gecko we'd heard the night before - he ran up the wall from my bed to the ceiling (which was made of bamboo poles, so he snuck between them and out of sight pretty easily) and hung out there for a bit, singing to us. I never knew geckos made noise... it's a fun chirping sound!

Pai Canyon - and look! Mountains!

Cruising around Pai on motorbikes was an adventure at times. On one short road we saw: water buffalo, horses, chickens/chicks, a pig, and a woman who walked into the middle of the road to ask if we'd like to buy some ganja.  We stopped later along the same road at a piranha pond where you could do some fishing.  We opted not to fish, but did see a piranha that was caught (and released) by someone else.  Another stop was Pai Canyon; we walked along a very narrow walkway with 20 meter dropoffs on either side, down into the canyon and made our own path on the way back up in time to see the sun set over the canyon. Gorgeous.
After a few days enjoying the food, sights and walking street/market in Pai, we headed back down to Chiang Mai.  We were all a bit nervous about finding somewhere to stay this weekend, as it's Chinese Lunar New Year on the 14th (and Valentine's Day), so many people are traveling and celebrating.  Luckily, we found a place to stay. (I feel the need to plug Bed and Terrace guesthouse for anyone who comes to Chiang Mai. Let me know if you'd like details, but the service was incredible. They offered more assistance than I even knew to ask for. Sadly, they were booked for tonight, but they found me another place right down the street, and even walked me over and interpreted for me while I booked the room.)  Tonight: one last trip to the night bazaar to buy the backpack I should have brought in the first place (which will replace my entirely-too-full suitcase that I'll store [full] in Bangkok until I go home) and perhaps a quick stop at the go-go bars to see some ladyboys (a very accepted part of the culture in Chiang Mai). Tomorrow, I'll go pet some tigers (and perhaps snakes), say farewell to Crystal and Jordan, and enjoy another bowl of khao soi before hopping on an overnight train to the old Siam capital city of Ayuthaya.

Flower Festival, Feb 5-7, 2010

The flower festival is absolutely incredible. It's beyond beautiful and smells heavenly.  It's situated in the southwest corner of the old city at Buak Hard Park.  The park is gorgeous even on a normal day, with palm trees, a pond with bright white bridges crossing over it, bamboo, benches, a playground for kids... But this weekend it's perfect. Inside the park is where the carnival games are taking place, where the two moonbounces are set up and where many of the vendors are situated - selling food, drinks, clothing and trinkets. Just outside, on the street that runs the perimeter of the park, are the flowers. Several solid blocks of orchids, peonies, roses, birds of paradise, lilies, chrysanthemums, cacti, poppies, and dozens (if not hundreds) of other plants and flowers I couldn't begin to identify.  There is a huge section full of competition plants, stall after stall of individuals selling their gorgeous blooms, and arrangements intended to give visitors one perfect photo-op after another.  The street is full of locals and tourists alike: smiling, snapping photos, pointing to their favorites, and - as the saying goes - stopping to smell the roses.

I spent several hours on Friday and a few more on Saturday strolling through the festival, sampling foods as I went.  At one point, I stopped to order a whole skewered squid. It was grilled and then cut into cubes, put into a small plastic bag with some set-your-face-on-fire hot sauce ("are you SURE you want the hot? Really?? Okay..." he said, skeptically), and handed to me with a skewer of my own.  I also ordered a coconut (they hack into the top with a butcher knife and stick a straw into it), pad Thai (for breakfast!), a noodle dish with several kinds of mushrooms (shitake and oyster among them), sweetened coffee (after which I was given a cup of tea - to wash it down?), and I bought a kilo of some sort of fruit that looks vaguely reminiscent of a red bell pepper and tastes like apple and thyme.

At one point on Saturday, I saw a woman taking a picture of her daughter at a flower display, and I offered to take one of both of them. After we took turns taking each other's pictures, she asked my name and where I was from. She got excited when I said I was from America; she asked how long I would be staying in Chiang Mai and if I would like to stay with her.  "No pay!" she said, and told me that she would like my help (I believe with practicing English with her and her daughter).  In return for my help, I could stay with them, and she would show me around. She teaches at the university, and lives near the campus. It's a gorgeous area that's less touristy than the old city, and I would be thrilled to get to stay there.  This next part I'm not 100% sure about, but if I understood her correctly, she said that because of her sister's position, she can get me into the King's palace for a tour. AMAZING!! Some days traveling solo is a bit lonely, but I'm pretty sure this offer would not have been extended had I not been alone. I've sent Mao (again, I have no idea if I'm spelling this correctly) an email with my phone number and hopefully will hear from her soon!

Saturday morning was the flower festival parade. It started about 30 or 40 minutes late, which I understand is fairly typical in Thai culture - reminds me of Deaf Standard Time. :)  The floats were remarkable - stunning, really - and I can't begin how much time went into them. Every little detail, every perfectly placed flower...  They were gorgeous, but to be honest, the parade was a little slow for me; a marching band would come through, followed by a group of women in traditional attire, followed by an extravagant and stunning float, and then we would wait for five or ten minutes for the next groups to go through that same general cycle.  Don't get me wrong - I enjoyed it, but more than two hours later (much of which was spent waiting, and it was HOT) when the parade was still going strong, I decided I had to leave.  I met up with someone I had met at the airport, and he drove us on his motorcycle up to a village on the other side of the mountain Doi Suthep.  The food was great (Thai-style iced teas with milk, ground pork with basil, hard-boiled eggs in a molasses soy sauce, and green curry which was good until I was told that the red tofu I was eating wasn't tofu, but congealed blood. I tried another piece for the aware experience, and then worked around the blood.), the company was enjoyable, the sights were beautiful... but the bike ride was terrifying. I thought being on a vespa was scary, but it just didn't compare.  Here, everyone weaves in and out of traffic, ignoring lane lines and traffic lights, and they seem to somehow intuitively understand what the person next to them is going to do.  That intuition or developed sense isn't much comfort to someone like me who's used to American driving habits, however - especially when we're on winding mountain roads and the driver is crossing over double-yellow lines to pass whatever vehicle has the nerve of doing the speed limit.  What do you do when a bus isn't going fast enough for you? Well, you use the four feet between the bus and the curb to zip on past it, of course! If I could do it over again, I would tell the guy to either slow down or let me off, but in the moment, I wasn't sure how to get his attention without distracting him (and NO WAY did I want to do that). I also didn't know how I would get back to my room, and wasn't much more comfortable with the idea of being on foot on the aforementioned winding mountain roads with crazy drivers. Lesson learned: no more motorcycle rides without first discussing comfort zones.

After I got back to town, I stopped at Tha Phae gate, where little kids, most of whom were between four and eight, were performing traditional and modern dances.  It was adorable, funny, and the perfect thing to bring my blood pressure back to normal.  On my way home, I stopped for soup and some ginger tea, both of which were served as most to-go items are: in a plastic bag secured with a rubber band, just like the goldfish you once won at the fair. I forgot about the issue of not owning any bowls, so eating the soup in my room was a bit of a challenge, but I made do.

Tomorrow I head to my first cooking course (can't wait!), but today, I'm in the mood to lounge. I got carry-out Pad Thai (thankfully NOT served in a plastic bag) and sorted through all of the festival photos, and tonight I will stop for a massage on my way over to the final hours of the flower festival.  Life's not too shabby.

If you're interested in more pics from the festival, here's the link to my favorites: http://picasaweb.google.com/MichelleSumner27/FlowerFestivalFaves?authkey=Gv1sRgCLGuurywzt2hiQE&feat=directlink

For the couple of you who will want to see more, I'll post the link as soon as I can get Picasa to stop fighting with me. :)

Near-death on a Vespa

Day two in Chiang Mai was amazing.  Started out simple enough: I'd been awake for hours (thank you jet lag) listening to alley dogs fighting and then quieting, only to be roused into a howling chorus a few minutes later.  At some point, I noticed that the sun was up, the early morning rush hour sounds were growing louder.  I ventured next door for some coffee, and made for the square that is the old city.  The main roads that draw the perimeter of the square are heavily trafficked with tuk-tuks (motorized three-wheeled rickshaw taxis), motorbikes, vespas, sawngthaew (pick-up truck taxis with two rows of seats in the bed) and bicycles.  There are a few crosswalks, but I have yet to see anyone actually use them.  Instead, crossing the street feels a bit like a real-life game of Frogger, only without the extra lives.

There's a moat surrounding the square, decorated with fountains, flowers, and what look like piles of giant wrapped Christmas gifts.  After a few blocks, I found a street vendor with several tables full of prepared foods, and a grill full of various kinds of meat-on-a-stick.  There was a line of people here, which was the criteria suggested for determining which vendors were tasty, sanitary and reasonably priced.  I watched for a minute, taking in the process, and then I walked up to make an order.  Immediately, a bag of very small fried fish - still whole - was placed into my hands, and everyone laughed (kindly) as I thought about it and gave the bag back. I pointed at some of the grilled meat, and was told that it was, "moo." (Amazing what a little creativity will do when trying to overcome language barriers!)   I ended up making my selections based on what looked easy to eat without utensils or explanation, and left with meat-on-a-stick (pork, I believe) and something wrapped in large leaves and grilled (they told me that what was inside were more of the small fish. I decided it was a good day to try something new).  

As I walked deeper into the square, I ate my delicoius skewered pork (yes, we'll go with that) and then moved on to whatever was in the leaves.  I tried not to look like an idiot as I figured out whether you were supposed to eat it like a sandwich, leaves and all, or unwrap it and just eat what was inside.  I decided to unwrap.  Inside was what looked similar to a Korean seafood pancake (First thought: sweet! I love those!).  I grabbed a small piece, noting the whole fishy-fishy that I was holding in my fingers, and took a bite.  I'm a texture girl when it comes to food, so when I took a bite and felt the tail, I had to muster some serious self-control to not spit it back out.  I forced myself to focus on the taste (not bad actually), and to appreciate the experience, even if the thought in my head was, "EW!! I just got poked in the tongue by tiny little fish bones!!" I finished my one bite and decided that was enough.  I kept walking, and finally found a trash can about twenty minutes later.  Once I'd gotten rid of the evidence, I sat down on a ledge and tried to decide where to go next.

 While I was pondering, an older Thai man nearby asked how I was doing.  We started talking - about who each of us was, why we were sitting there and what the day would hold.  After awhile, I asked where a good place was to eat.  He told me to hop on the back of his bicycle and he would take me there. I thought about this for a minute and decided it sounded like a great plan.  I hopped on the back and away we went, dodging cars and bicycles and pedestrians.  Not gonna lie, it was mildly terrifying.  When we got to the restaurant (or vendor... but with tables), there was a table set up with about ten different pots; you pull off the lids, decide what looks good, place your order and go sit down.  I got chicken curry (SO yummy!) and something else that looked (and tasted) really good, but was so hot that it had me in tears - much to the amusement of my new friend Guy.  (I'm absolutely sure that I'm spelling that wrong, and that I pronounced it wrong, but it sounds somewhat close to that and means "little chicken.")  Many meals here are served with a spoon and fork, and Guy laughed at me for only taking a fork.  (My favorite thing about him - he laughed often and without reserve. It took him about a minute to recover from his amusement at the sight of me putting sunscreen on my feet.  It's the little things...)  He handed me a spoon, and I copied him: spoon in your left hand, fork in your right; use the back of the fork to help push food onto the spoon, and eat from the spoon. Once that was settled, we talked politics, movies, religion and music.  When I told him my name, he immediately launched into "Miiiiichelle, my belle...."  This set the stage for the rest of the morning - he randomly sang lines from various American "hippie" musicians. "Woodstock was my time; I'm a hippie, but without the drugs!"

After we ate, he swapped his bicycle for his vespa (once, he forgot to make sure I was holding on before he took off, nearly sending me flying), and drove me to his favorite temple. "This one has the most beautiful Buddha." (If you can zoom in, the detail is remarkable.)

He explained proper temple etiquette (shoes off before you enter; do not stand - walk in and sit cross-legged or with your feet tucked under you; and, if you choose, bow three times: once for the Buddha, once for his teachings, and once for the monks), told me that pictures are allowed, and gave me Buddhism and history lessons.  "Buddha teaches you to fight your mind... and win."  This continued at the other two temples, one of which was Wat Phra That Doi Suthep (the one up on the mountain in the pics taken from my room), which is one of the most sacred temples of the north. Sadly, it's now swarmed with tourists, but it's really quite beautiful. The wat was built where a white elephant - carrying an honored Buddha relic - stopped and died, the relic having "chosen" that site.

After our temple visits and lunch in the forest, it was time to call it a day, and I went back to my room for a nap.  As he dropped me off, Guy smiled, bowed his head and wished me a beautiful life.

Snakes (it's not a dragon) are believed to protect Buddha.

Buddha on the outside wall of one of the temples.

 

I made it!

Chiang Mai Channel

I'm here!  Getting to Chiang Mai was worse than I'd hoped, but far better than it could've been...  I arrived at Dulles plenty early, breezed through security and wandered around the terminal, chowing down on my bagel dog and looking out the window at the snow. (YAY!! SNOW!!)  When I got to my gate, I sat next to two people from Malaysia who were in the States on business.  Eddie (who is seeing snow for the first time today) and Izma asked where I was headed, and before long we were swapping travel stories/plans, as well as contact information. They offered tips on where to go in Malaysia, asked me to call if I ended up in Kuala Lumpur at any time during my trip, and kindly instructed me to call if I got into any trouble.  Eddie also invited me to meet up with his group in Dublin over St. Patrick's Day - now these are my kind of people! Then we all snapped a few pictures, promised to email, and headed to the gate.  We boarded on time, but thanks to a mechanical issue and some delays to de-ice the plane, we sat at the gate for what seemed an eternity.  Apparently, de-icing a 747 takes a bit longer than scraping your windshield.  Weird. I tried not to think about how long I'd be sitting in such close quarters with the sneezing, sniffling, red-faced woman two seats over, and how many of her cooties I'd catch during that time.  (Glad I brought so much vitamin C!) There was also someone nearby with an unfortunate flatulence issue... ick.  Anyway, we did finally take off - two hours, ten minutes after our scheduled departure.  This concerned me a bit (and excited me, honestly - a day to explore Tokyo? Sweet!), since my layover was just shy of two hours... Alas, no Japan for this kid.  We landed late, but United held our connecting flights for us, and crews were impressively organized and helpful in getting each of us to the proper gate.  Fancy that.  They were ready for us and knew exactly where we needed to be and that we didn't have long to get there.

Sadly, while the connection process was smooth and simple, the departure was not.  Another two hours spent sitting on a plane after its schedule departure time, waiting for who-knows-what to be fixed so that we could head to Bangkok.  (As I was typing this, I was on my 21st straight hour in a plane, with only about 20 (glorious!) minutes spent rushing through the airport, attempting to stretch as I stood in line.)

Oh! I also met a woman on Flight #1 with some fascinating stories.  Ann is a curator for Japanese art for the Smithsonian, so she's done the flight to Tokyo countless times.  She has friends in Bangkok and Chiang Mai, and offered me their contact info, in case I wanted some information on where to go, what to do, and how to stay out of trouble.   This trip, she's headed to Tokyo on "courier duty," where an expert from the museum goes to accompany an artifact as it's transported to its new home.  Wonder if she'll give me a tour when I'm back and show me the piece she guarded. :)

I also got some tips from my new friend Eddie about what kinds of food are not to be missed in Thailand.  As I was commenting that I'd tried several of them in the US (I was getting to the part about being certain it wouldn't compare to the real thing), he scoffed and informed me that mango and sticky rice (for one) has to be had in Thailand in order to properly appreciate it.  I look forward to doing some research to prove him right.

When I landed in Chiang Mai, the person who was supposed to pick me up was nowhere to be found.  Eek.  I hung on to the rumored Thai attitude of "no worries" and eventually got ahold of someone.  While trying to sort that out, I was amused to see people of all ages and nationalities congregate around the tv in the airport, watching the Grammys.  Gotta love how music brings people together. :)

view from my room

By the time I made it to the guest house (which has a wrap-around balcony with a view of the mountains), I desperately wanted (needed) a shower.  I was thrown off a bit by the fact that the "shower" is just a shower head mounted to the bathroom wall, and there's a drain in the bathroom floor.  By the time I was done, I'm not sure there was an inch of dry space in the entire bathroom. I'm sure I'll get the hang of it, but this time, I managed to spray water EVERYWHERE. It was cold, too!! It was certainly not the long, luxurious shower I'd been dreaming of, but it got the job done.

view from my room

So, all clean and refreshed, I set off to do some exploring.  Found a street vendor (who was making food so hot that just breathing it in from several feet away was making me cough). When I walked up, he mimed "food?", I nodded, and he whipped up some of the best grub I've had in ages.  It was simple but oh so delicious.  Fried rice with chicken and veggies, but tasted not at all like what you're thinking right now. I don't generally care for rice, but it was perfect. Then I ducked into a massage place for a - wait for it - TWO HOUR Thai massage.  Heaven.  Though a bit odd at the end when she sat behind me, grabbed my arms, put her feet on my back and, without much warning, pulled me into positions that would make a contortionist wince.  Verdict: Thai massage is spectacular.

Sadly, my afternoon "nap" turned into an 8-hour crash, so I'm now wide awake (and HUNGRY) at 3:30am.  Hopefully restaurants open early here so I don't have to wait too long... :)