Highs of Thai...

When I left NYC back in April, I foolishly set July 1st ("2 months on the road should be enough...") as my probable return date to the States, thinking I'd have gotten my hearty fill of diversity and adventure and would be ready to return to some stability and familiarity. Ha! Believe it or not, I'm still out here loving each and every moment and not quite sure when I'll be ready to go back. This week marks my sixth week basking in the magical glow of the Southeast Asia region (fourth week in Northern Thailand) and in light of that milestone - plus the fact that I've received a few inquiries from prospective travelers back home who want to come to this area - I've decided to share some of my favorite experiences and places so far. 

Pai, Mae Hong Son Province, Thailand

Last week, I jumped on a motorbike with a friend for a quick road trip through ridiculously steep, narrow, winding mountain roads to a little town called Pai, just about 2 hours east of the Burmese border. I'd probably recommend taking a rented van or tour bus there instead of a bike like I did unless you have someone who intimately knows the crazy roads and semi understands how the Thai drive (read: wrecklessly). After soaking up the gorgeous, lush green jungles along the way (Northern Thailand in all its glory) and then eventually gaining some feeling back in my bum from the 3 hour ride, we began to roam around and I instantly understood the charming allure of the place. A unique, very chilled out, relaxed vibe permeates the hippie-like Pai village, where images of Bob Marley's casual, carefree smile welcomes you from nearly every local bohemian art shop and cafe. There are endless amounts of boutique shops, unique bars, and one-of-a-kind restaurants at every turn, but we decided to venture off a bit to avoid the sea of dread-locked tourists in the village for some exploration of the all-encompassing natural beauty.

 

The rolling hills around Pai are home to several hillside tribes that have managed to sustain their traditional cultural identities amidst the encroaching forces of modernity. Luckily, my friend had been around the area several times before and has established friendly ties with several of the villagers, so I was able to tag along and enjoy an exclusive, authentic glance into the lives of the Lisu, Akha, and Lahu villages as he reunited with friends. Each little tucked-away village had its own special character and charisma...the colorful dresses, the architecture of the huts, the layout of the farmland, the overall feel of the place was just so different in each area. We ended up going to one village pretty close to the Burmese border zone that had tense undertones verberating throughout, where I instantly felt as though 'big brother' was watching (the border areas here are pretty heavily monitored and controlled in an effort to avoid illegal crossings, drug smuggling, etc.)...I probably wouldn't advise to venture too close in those directions toward the borders if I were you but I'm not really one to play by the rules sometimes so was not even a bit hesitant to go... Anyway, I loved to see that the distinct communities still primarily make a living from extensive farming and raising livestock (who they literally live side-by-side with) and it was truly amazing to see how in touch with Mother Nature they are. You can literally watch as the very suntanned, ridiculously muscular, wise-looking farmers slowly and confidently walk back from the fields, many of which are completely vertical, with healthy bushels of homegrown food to either sell to a local market or to cook themselves for their families. Really gives a different meaning to the "farm to table" concept. Such an honest, hard-working way of living. I was also happy to learn that although the opium trade had been ther livelihood for many generations, the production has stymied in recent years and most farmers have switched over to growing and selling other crops like corn and vegetables. Thank goodness.

 

Unfortunately, as we weaved our way through the vibrant greenery, the same kind of paralyzing nausea that had hit me during the trek in Kalaw overwhelmed me once again and so began another bout of food poisoning for the Bug. Argh, I knew I shouldn't have eaten that banana-wrapped cocoa thing that one random lady handed me in her shop! So frustrating, but at least my immune system must be getting much stronger...

 

We then stumbled off the beaten path to a little known riverside bungalow homestay about 7 kilometers outside of Pai, proudly marked by a bright red Swiss flag. "Michel" is owned by a Swiss man and his adorableThai wife who welcome visitors to their serene getaway year-round with open arms. I would highly recommend this place if you are looking for some tranquility and authenticity outside the often bustling touristy town of Pai.  

Tiger Kingdom, Chiang Mai

This was actually about a month ago but I haven't written about it so wanted to highlight this experience as a must-do if you should find yourself in this part of the world. With my teeny green shorts and flashy Prada aviator sunglasses, I waltzed into a large cage full of grown 250-pound tigers within a quite touristy attraction that in my opinion is definitely worth visiting in Chiang Mai. It was truly incredible being so close and interactive with these gorgeous, enormous wild creatures. They absolutely could've eaten me in one swift bite, but they surprisingly remained pretty calm the whole time. Yes, there are accusations out there that the tigers are so tame because they are totally drugged out, but who knows if there is actually truth to that. Anyway, full of fear and hesitation and with my embarrassingly shaky hands, I rubbed their fluffy bellies, lay down with them using their bums as pillows, and pet them like they were simply giant kitties. 

Biking and Trekking in Chiang Mai

My other semi-life threatening yet completely exhilarating experience was on a motor bike around the hills of Chiang Mai. I totally recommend doing this if you're out here - but I'd advise to go with someone who knows what they are doing since there are tons of accidents each year where overconfident farangs go racing around stupidly and blindly and don't realize that Thai drivers are some other kind of crazy too. Anyway, after touring around the Hmong hillside village and a few gorgeous hidden Buddhist temples, we got caught in the daily rainshower that occurs here during monsoon season. My driver advised that we'd need to cut the trip short and go back to town on the route we had taken up there, but stubbornly, I insisted we try the trail that we originally intended to go on since it was supposed to be beautiful and was just something new. Doh. It was a downhill, rocky, painful, muddy disaster. After some slipping & sliding, and lots of falling and nervous laughter, we made it; however, my legs looked like peaches that were beaten by a baseball bat and it looked like we had just been in a crazy mud-wrestling match when we landed. Nonetheless, it was truly worth it. It's pretty hard to describe the scenic artistry in some of these areas that you can only get to by bike or foot and I definitely encourage anyone with a sense of adventure and keen appreciation of natural beauty to go off the beaten path around there to explore for themselves. 

 

Chiang Mai Bar Scene - Ladyboys and Locals

 

So since I'm trying not to spend too much money and I'm not so much into partying these days, I don't really have any great stories about the best trendy nightlife around here, but there were two nights that have stuck out so far that are worth sharing. One was after the muddy slip-and-slide down the mountain when I was half crippled and in desperate need of a cold, relaxing beer.  I roamed near my hotel to La Croix Road where there was a little boxing arena surrounded by neon-lighted bars and booming dance clubs. I sat down to watch some shirtless scrawny boys play around with each other in the arena and ordered a tall Chang from an unbelievably gorgeous, tall, voluptuous Thai waitress. When she returned with the frosted glass and talked to me in an alarmingly rich, deep voice, I clearly realized she that in fact, she was not a she... They are called "Ladyboys" here (yes, this is politically correct) and there are PLENTY of them here. The Thai's, I've learned, are getting pretty big on gender-bending norms and from what I can see, they are not afraid to show it all over. I've since learned that Thai Buddhism does not regard homosexuality as sinful and so perhaps that has enhanced the social acceptance of this throughout the cities. I looked around and realized the place was brimming with these gorgeous Ladyboys, all with meticulously made up faces, suggestive, sexy dresses, and all extremely friendly and welcoming to the skinny white girl sipping on a beer.

 

Another night, a friend and I were drawn to a bar that was full of young looking Thai students enjoying great live music in an outdoor garden type bar called Nube just outside of the Old City. Although there were no seats available, a group of giggly, smiling young girls (maybe 18-20 years old) waved us over and we joined them for a night of singing along to the music and cheers-ing our beers before every sip. Felt really cool to be hanging with the locals.

Silent Meditation Retreat, Wat Suan Dok

 

After days of racing around the mountains and drinking beer with scandally clad Ladyboys, I decided to take a healthy mental break for my first meditation retreat. What an experience. I didn't realize how crazy fast and jumbled and full my brain is until I was forced to sit silently on and off for 24 hours doing nothing but "breathing in and out, and solely being aware of your breaths...nothing else...". Sure, it sounds like a piece of cake: just sit lotus-style in a beautiful courtyard adorned with smiling golden Buddha statues and palm trees, relaxing and doing nothing but feeling comfortable and calm in flowing white clothing for hours at a time, listening to the soothing guidance of a tiny monk encouraging you to focus your mind. In reality, or at least MY reality, it started off to be a pretty painful and frustrating couple of hours until I really could get in the groove and understand what all this was intended for. We were allowed 1 Q&A session with the monk to ask anything we wanted related to practicing meditation or share what we were struggling with and were experiencing, etc. which was pretty cool. And after breaking for occasional chanting, some brief sleep sessions and a few modest-sized meals, I left the place feeling surprisingly refreshed and centered. I'd recommend doing the 2 day course like I did if you are just trying to get your toes wet, but if this type of thing is already your cup of tea, there are tons of retreats here you can look into for a much longer and more intensive experience.

 

So there are some experiences and hopefully inspiring ideas for now...more will be on the way. I am still here in Chiang Mai trying to soak up the culture and language (by the way, met an adorable little Thai teacher where I'm staying who agreed to help me with my Thai in exchange for helping him with his English...sweet deal!) and simultaneously working on some potential opportunities to do some good in some much-needed areas around in the region.

 

'Til Next Time... 

Hope in Southeast Asia

So I ended up staying in Myanmar a few extra days so that I'd have about two full weeks there...yet I am still far from satiated. I am intrigued by that particular country as well as the surrounding areas. The spirited people, rich land, diverse culture, complex historical and political situations...it is just so intricate and complex, wonderful and harsh, pure and dirty, all at the same time.

In Myanmar, I started my journey in the south where I was taken aback and slightly uncomfortable with the constant attention I was receiving as a white person roaming around. I'd be given the heads up about this, but didn't really get it until I was walking the streets of Yangon, the biggest city in Myanmar, where the sidewalks are scattered with deep holes and the electricity shuts off regularly at random times. Now, the attention you get as a foreigner is not like when pretty women get playful cat calls when passing by a testosterone flooded construction site, nor when Bradgelina and the kids pass by adoring fans and aggressive paparazzi. On a simple stroll through the streets, I received many heartfelt, excited "Hello's!!" and several requests for pictures with me, was approached by multiple energetic longyi-clad kids and robbed monks anxious to practice their limited conversational English, and was even welcomed into the back of a street side teashop, which turned out to be a family's home, to be protected from a monstrous monsoon. Mostly everyone seemed thrilled to see people from the outside world coming to explore their country. To me, they seemed genuinely proud and exhibited what I interpreted as a sense of relief and hope. While it was fascinating and somewhat flattering at times, by the time I reached Mandalay, I was ready for the attention to stop. 

By now (back in Northern Thailand, by the way), I thought I'd be writing fervently about things that have grabbed my attention recently (politics, human rights, etc., specifically the sickening realities of the nearly half million internally displaced persons amongst various ethnic minorities in the border regions of the area)...BUT...A) I still have much to learn so my opinions would not carry much weight at this point anyway, and B) I am hopeful I will be returning to the country at some point in the near future and given democracy and free speech has not yet fully blossomed and been accepted there, I will keep my mouth shut and hold off a bit to avoid any potential negative clashes with the government. Instead, I will share some more about the beauty and characters of the country I was fortunate to experience; however, given my growing knowledge and interest in what has been going on "behind the scenes" there, I must say at times I felt I was being forcibly ushered around a very limited portion of the country - far from the outskirts - to specific tourist friendly places flowing with smiling, happy folk, plenty of shops, beautiful sparkling pagodas and more.  I sometimes felt I was walking within a meticulously constructed movie set,Truman Show style, and am now even more ravenously curious to pop the bubble and peak behind the curtains...

Anyways, after leaving magical Inle Lake, I continued up North to Hsipaw, a quiet area more or less similar to the trekking town of Kalaw with many Shan villages scattered on the outskirts. I ended up bonding with an extremely fascinating, warm woman from Taiwan who shared her story with me over some scrambled eggs and fresh pineapple at our homestay. Hope, whose name appropriately fits what she's all about, is a renowned University Professor who has come to Myanmar for nearly 5 years now, teaching poor Shan village children Mandarin Chinese and English on her own time. Although some of those villages tend to be somewhat secluded and prefer to be self-sustaining, perhaps a bit "skeptical" and uninterested in the incoming Westernized influences, Hope has managed to build a very tight relationship with one particular village and has loyally returned to instill hope in the form of education for these precious kids. She must have read the extreme admiration, enthusiasm, and interest in my eyes as I listened to her experiences and so she graciously invited me to join her that afternoon for a class with the children.   

This was such a rewarding and thought-provoking day. I wish I could repeat it. We walked about an hour along dirt roads to this Shan village just outside of Hsipaw, where we passed hut after hut, ox after ox, rice field after rice field (you get the idea...) and stopped at a beautiful wooden hut on high stilts with some plump pigs and chickens running around in the dirt yard in front. This was the Village Leader's house where she has the children gather on a blanket for a makeshift outdoor classroom whenever she visits. The kids of all ages literally jumped for joy as she walked in, and she reciprocated the excitement and love.  I was extremely impressed when a young girl with a baby on her back came straight over to me and asked my name in perfect English. They must be soaking this up! It was really a beautiful thing to watch and couldn't believe I was lucky enough to get up in front for my own little English song/dance thing I made up to play with the kids. Lots of energy and laughing and overall a really special, good time. 

One family in the village I met really touched my heart. An older toothless man with a somber smile was standing arm-in-arm with a limping, young, baseball-capped boy, who was clearly not partaking in the lessons. I then approached them and the hand gestures and limited communication between me and the older man began, but then Hope joined me to explain their story and instantly became teary-eyed.  I learned that the boy and father had unfortunately been in a rough motorbike accident a few months ago just down the road, and since the little boy was not wearing a helmet at the time, he suffered severe brain damage and is no longer able to talk or interact in a consistent, reliable way. The impression I got from some of the elders (from pointing to his head and then shaking their hand to indicate "no") was that they were not hopeful for the kid, which was disturbing since I know there are options to improve these situations in more developed places in the world, like specialized schooling, speech therapy, etc. Although the small family exhibited optimism,  it was easy to see the desperation and worry behind their smiles.  I learned that the "moya" bills (doctor/medical bills) they must pay have prevented the boy from being able to attend any type of school and have so far tallied up to 1.5 million kyat, or $1,500 USD. For a family that makes about $1-2 USD a day on average, this is obviously an overwhelming amount of money.  I couldn't help but think how the situation might be different and how that boy's future might be changed if he had even some access to special education, decent doctors, a chance to continue to live his life despite some cognitive disabilities from a tragic accident. It was sad for me to see the limited school supplies available to the kids (they were PSYCHED when I handed out pencils and paper to them, like kids on Christmas morning jacked up on sugar) as well as the relatively run-down circumstances they live in; but to see a seriously injured kid within this scene with an even lower chance of a bright future ahead of him really broke my heart. 

After being "escorted" hand in hand by the adorable children all the way to the edge of the village, Hope and I discussed potential options on how we could help that family out, even just a little. We threw around ideas of involving Doctors Without Borders and other potential organizations that could help, which I believe she is looking into now, but in order to do something that would provide instant relief to the warm-hearted family, we decided to put together what we could to donate to them directly out of our pockets. So far, best money I've spent so far on this trip. But I want to do more. I need to. 

So now I am back in Chiang Mai after some perspective altering experiences in a third world country, filling myself up with whatever knowledge and resources I can get my hands on to learn more, and actively searching for something I can do to continue to provide hope, help, or really anything to those who really need it in this part of the world, even it's just for one person in one random village that I will only see once.  

Stay Tuned...