Chiang Mai 4

I started Week 3 out with a mini volunteer project. David and Porn came up to the sanctuary, and we went out into the jungle with some hilltribesmen to cut bamboo. David and Nayok, the tribal leader, plan to get some of the locals building bamboo furniture, and we were going to get the ball rolling by cutting the bamboo for the first piece they would make. We trekked up a steep hillside and cut some decent-sized bamboo logs, then, after a lunch break, hauled them back down the mountain to our truck. On the first trip down, David and I had carried a log together, but on the second we decided to speed things up (and not look like wimps compared to the locals) by each taking a log. This was surprisingly easy - bamboo is very light, and the only real challenge was maneuvering the 5-meter logs through some of the more dense clusters of trees - so we managed to get the logs down in about ten minutes. As I walked out of the jungle, a group of backpack-laden tourists came trundling up a path on the other side of the truck. At this point, I was carrying the log balanced on one shoulder, with a machete in my free hand. They did a double-take; I nodded at them in a knowing manner, and kept sauntering along. One woman was looking bemusedly back at me until they disappeared around a corner. So that was entertaining. Apart from that, the week wasn't too eventful, just more tree maintenance, English teaching, and swimming with elephants (as I said, nothing special). One interesting thing that did happen was a housewarming party in Maetaman village, which Joe invited me to. I was a bit lost at the party, speaking hardly any Thai, but the locals seemed very pleased that a farang had made an appearance (at one point, a man actually kissed me on the cheek), so I just smiled and nodded at pretty much whatever they said. I also got to watch some fireworks that they set off in a typically suicidal Thai manner. The other somewhat interesting event was my farewell party, on Thursday night. Joe and I went out and bought a dozen large bottles of beer, which, when I brought them out after class, disappeared in about ten minutes. The mahouts borrowed my guitar and started belting Thai pop songs at the top of their lungs, causing O-Ishi, Joe's son, to dance around and look cute. Meanwhile, Joe, Prida (one of the non-mahout employees) and I got a hundred-baht poker game going. I was doing alright until two men from the village showed up with a bottle of Thai whiskey. The game switched from poker to a Thai version of rummy, and I managed to lose 160 baht, which would have been a lot more upsetting if 160 baht didn't work out to be about $5. As it was, the money was well worth the experience of gambling and drinking with Thai villagers, although I do wonder if they might have been cheating me. The next day, I said goodbye to the elephant home. I had a really fun time there, and it was a truly unique experience. If any of you are ever in Thailand, I would highly recommend visiting Thai Elephant Home and blah dee blah blah. Sorry if this blog entry is unusually prosaic, but I'm kind of tired and hungry...anyway, I hung out in Chiang Mai for a few days, said goodbye to David and Porn, and, this morning, caught a bus up to the small town of Pai. Pai is a pretty major tourist place, but it's in a pleasant mountain valley (there were actually pine trees on the way up!) and I'm hoping to meet a few people. I've got the next week to explore, so we'll see what happens. LYA

Chiang Mai 3

Before I get all spiritual, I would like to take a moment to a) curse this computer keyboard that pulls up QuickLinks every time I try to write an apostrophe, and b) recognize the restaurant I went to with David and Porn on the night of the 15th, because it was really something. It was a large, open-sided warehouse, like the Costco of restaurants, with metal tables and plastic chairs, and I swear there were maybe 300 people having dinner while we were there. Dinner was a buffet of raw foods that you cooked yourself, on a burner at your table; entertainment consisted of a mixture of John Denver covers and bizarre, unintelligible Thai comedy that invlolved a lot of slapsticks and timed laughter. (David told me that the average Thai joke involves a ladyboy, a dwarf, and a person with Downs...)
The next morning, I took a stroll down to Wat Phra Sing, which is very wat-y, as wats go; enjoyed an avocado (!) smoothie (which was delicious); and was taken, by Porn, to the MonkChat headquarters, to begin the meditation retreat. It started with a monk giving a rambling slideshow introduction to Buddhism; this included a short French animated film about ants trying to crack a walnut with a bocce ball, cheesy digital religious illustrations, and much sermonizing about poverty and terrorism. I was obviously relieved to be done with that and take a song-taew (truck taxi) to the clean, modest Buddhist university campus outside Chiang Mai, where the retreat was to take place. Once there, we (eighteen Westerners) changed into white clothes, which made us look terribly cult-ish, and, after a bit of socializing, began our period of silence with dinner. We were asked to contemplate our food before eating, and to chant a Pali prayer about not being gluttonous. Everybody ate very slowly; it almost seemed like a contest to see who could be the most mindful. (A French-Canadian fellow won by a long shot; he was still chewing thoughtfully as the rest of us left.) After silently wandering the grounds for a bit, we began assorted meditation and chanting exercises, and things just got amazingly spiritual and transcendent. During our first sitting meditation, I was just concentrating so intently on my breathing that I fell into this sort of trance-like state, just this feeling of absolute serenity and emptiness. It was as if I, that is, me, the entity, had ceased to exist; I was just in formless communion with all of creation. After an eternity, or a second, of floating in this state, I began to have a vision, of a mighty, indescribable boddhisattva, who seemed to beckon me, like a holy guide - and then I chundered EVERYWHERE! Yeah, we had been on the lash the night before...No, I kid, that joke is getting old. (If you do not get the reference, look up "Gap Yah" on Youtube. Do it.) Seriously, it was a struggle to keep my mind clear, and I was pretty pleased to just reach a state of relaxation. But I came out of it feeling very serene, and I do think I will continue meditating, if only to feel a little more relaxed. I also met some nice people, which is always pleasant.
After the retreat, I headed back up to the elephant home to resume teaching and working. Nothing too eventful happened there, apart from eating flying squirrel soup for breakfast one morning. It is currently the Thai new year, Loi or Lorng Kratong (not sure which), and last night the village set off hundreds of paper fire balloons,which was quite beautiful. I am in Chiang Mai tonight; David and Porn took me to a parade, which consisted of lots of Thais in traditional dress walking. The only truly entertaining part was an older, asiatic fellow, who strolled into the parade and commenced to take pictures of himself with the walkers, whom he would then show the pictures to. After a bit of this entertainment, D&P left and I strolled alone down to the river, to watch the traditional flower boats float by. This was not terribly exciting either, but I enjoyed seeing all the people walking around, and hearing the music. The couples and groups of friends walking around made me feel a bit lonely however :(
One final note: in search of a fruit shake, I wandered into a sort of square where many merchants had set up. This would not have been notable, except for the musical entertainment on display, several young Thai girls who presented some sort of out-of-tune musical drama. This, and the Thai classical music (read: gongs, drums, and oboes playing one chord forever) incessantly playing throughout the horrendously long parade (how many people carrying lanterns do we seriously need to see?) made me pity the discerning Thai music fan, whoever he is. Anyway, more excitement to come...LYA

Chiang Mai 2

It's me again. This post is going to be a bit long, since I haven't written in so long. I'm not even going to apologize for the lack of posts this time; anyone who expected an elephant home in the mountains of northern Thailand to have internet deserves to be disillusioned. Said elephant home is a very interesting place. It's owned by the leader (I hesitate to say "chief") of the district, which is populated mostly by Karen people. The manager and mastermind is a guy named Joe, an extremely friendly guy with an excellent ponytail. Joe has a one-and-a-half-year old son, nicknamed O-ishi, who is as adorable as you might expect. He loves my guitar, and has tried to play it several times, despite the fact that it's larger than him. The staff of the home is a collection of locals who work as mahouts for the ten elephants living there. They are friendly, but for the most part speak very limited English. One of my principal roles at the home is teaching English to some of the younger mahouts. This is as frustrating but rewarding as one might expect; I'm struggling with never having taught before, but ultimately i think I'm doing an alright job of getting some language skills across to them. The reforestation work is less rewarding. So far, it's essentially consisted of me clearing the ground around the bases of saplings, in preparation for fertilizer. This itself isn't so bad; what's bad is the heat, which, although mild by local standards, is still pretty overwhelming for a polar bear like me. My effective working time is limited to the morning and late afternoon, and I spend a lot of time laying around in my room, too hot to really accomplish anything. I've been swimming in the river a few times, but the combination of the heat and the decidedly un-spectacular setting (hills and trees, whoopee!) had begun to wear on me by the time my Chiang Mai leave rolled around. Compounding the malaise is the Thai version of planning, also known as "not planning", or at least "not telling anyone about plans". I don't really have a clear idea of what I'm supposed to be accomplishing on the reforestation project. Joe has mentioned an irrigation line, but he hasn't given me any sort of timeline, so I essentially have to try and set my own schedule. This is also pretty wearing, as I generally feel like I'm not doing a) enough work and b) anything right. Hopefully, I'll be able to get some clarity from David over dinner this evening...
A brief word on elephants: they're not horses. This might seem pretty obvious, but I didn't realize how important that distinction was until I went elephant riding. Riding a good horse is like driving a nice car, except with feelings. It's pretty comfortable, you have a high degree of control, the speed can be thrilling, and you feel like you're working with the horse. Riding an elephant, on the other hand, is in many ways more like being in an uncomfortable, almost broken-down bus. You don't really have any control, your ass hurts, snails are passing you on the trail, and after a while you start to wonder "are we there yet?" Of course, there's also the really cool fact that you're mounted on a huge, ancient creature, who would have no problem dispatching you if it felt like it. One of the unique elements of the Elephant Home is the fact that customers ride bareback, straddling the elephant's neck; on most elephant tours, the customer sits on a metal seat mounted on the elephant's back. The former method is much better for the elephant, and much more fun; it's especially wild going down steep hills, or crossing a river. Swimming around with the elephants is also encouraged, and that truly is an awesome experience. The elephants dip under the water, disappearing almost completely, then rear back up, glistening, and lumber through the water towards you like primal sea monsters. The mahouts and I love climbing around on the elephants while they're in the water; Supon, Joe's "lieutenant", as i think of him, does backflips off elephants' heads. I've only been on one ride; I may take another before I go, but I'm still not sure if it's worth the tedium. I prefer the time I've spent down at the elephant enclosure, petting elephants and trying to keep them from eating my arm (seriously, they must think I'm bamboo, the amount they try to drag my hand into their mouths). As for smaller animals, I have been adopted by a dog named Bacon, who follows me almost everywhere. He had some sort of disease that causes him to twitch incessantly and stink; his loyalty is heartbreaking, as is his "happy special kid" demeanor. All in all, the home is an interesting place. However, I was pretty stoked to get out of the valley and head back to Chiang Mai for the weekend. I arrived last night, in time for my second Thai lesson (I've already forgotten it all). Following the lesson, I went over to the Sunday night market, a block away from my hostel, and wandered for a while. Now, I should explain my relationship with markets. I generally walk through them as fast as possible, afraid to stop for fear that a vendor might try to sell something to me. Even if I see something that I like, I generally keep moving; occasionally, I do a series of tortuous double-takes, trying to take a closer look at an item, but not wanting to betray any interest that might cause the merchant to start talking with me. The only thing I habitually buy is snacks; these I buy constantly, in such volume that I would probably have put on several pounds by now, if I weren't always walking so fast to avoid buying anything. I haven't always been like this; when I went to China, at age 12, I was a brilliant market shopper. Of course, in China I had my grandmother and her bottomless wallet to cover any purchases I made, but it's been disheartening to find myself bereft of my former confidence as a consumer. So last night I decided to force myself to buy something, preferably some clothes. Eventually, I settled on some fisherman pants; I walked past the stall three or four times, then, finally, approached, looked through the rack, and bought a pair. I was pathetically proud of myself. Today, I almost wore them out sightseeing, but after walking about a block away from the hostel I realized that I looked sort of like i was wearing a sari, and walked back to my room to change into shorts. Incidentally, I didn't manage to see much today; I had about four false starts, constantly having to come back to my room to change wardrobe, get directions, etc. I'm kind of a pathetic person. Whatever; all I was looking to see were temples, and I'll be seeing plenty of those tomorrow, when, for my cultural activity, I spend the night as a monk. Wow, this is gonna be weird...LYA

Chiang Mai 1

Well, I didn't end up going out too late. I think a lot of people fled the island as soon as the boats started running again, so the town was pretty dead. Plus, my already shaky self-confidence wasn't at all boosted by my waiter at dinner that evening, who described me, in the "Customer" listing on the bill, as "A little boy". I don't know if he was being blatantly disrespectful or trying to make a joke, but it wasn't a very pleasant thing to see either way. So I went to bed rather early, ready to catch my boat at 10 the next morning. I got up early, got packed, and even had the laundry service give me my laundry damp, in order that I might make the boat. Unfortunately, I suddenly found out that the morning boat wasn't running. I got pretty worried about this, thinking I would miss my train, until I looked at the tickets for the first time and realized that the man at the ticket office had booked the wrong train, too. Luckily, the timing worked out so that I would still be able to get to Bangkok, although I would have to get a different train to Chiang Mai. I should also mention that, for whatever reason, I was starting to feel rather ill. Ultimately, I ended up being in transit for something like 32 hours. There were a few pleasant moments: I loved the sleeper berth from Chumpon to Bangkok, and I managed to cure my seasickness on the boat ride, by pressing continuously on my wrist. But the 12-hour ride to Chiang Mai, in a car that essentially amounted to a bunch of really uncomfortable airline seats, and attended by a stewardess who scoffed incredulously when I asked for water, was less pleasant. I'm pretty sure I had a fever at this point, I felt so cold that I had to spend the entire ride wearing a sweater and toque. Also, I finished my book within the first half-hour, my iPod ran out of juice not long after, and trying to fall asleep on one of these trains makes an airplane seem like a nice hotel, so I got to spend most of the ride either dozing fitfully or surveying the undeniably beautiful but somewhat repetitive central Thai landscape. Heavy flooding and monkeys were the main points of interest. By the time I got to Chiang Mai, I was exhausted, and not too kindly disposed toward Thailand. Trying to deal with Thai payphones, which I for some reason can't figure out, put me in an even worse mood. Finally, I managed to get to the guesthouse that David, my volunteer coordinator, told me to stay at the first night, and things suddenly started to go much better. David was waiting there; he paid the taxi, arranged my room, and took me out for dinner. We made some very lively conversation (which I had been more or less deprived of for the last few days), and I got a good night's sleep. Today, David picked me up and took me to the ProWorld offices, i.e. his house. I met his wife/assistant, who's name is (I am not making this up) Supaporn, or Porn for short. Thankfully, it doesn't sound as bad as it looks. They are both wonderful people; I went through orientation at their house, then had a nice lunch and was taken on a city tour by Porn. I also had my first Thai lesson; Geaw, my teacher, says I am doing very well. So things are looking up! I head to my homestay tomorrow; hopefully, I'm in for a great three weeks. LYA

Koh Tao 2

So I spent a few days laying around in the middle of horrendous monsoon rains, went out to a few bars and met some people, and finally went to finish my certification this morning. The water wasn't nearly as choppy as last time, so I was pretty hopeful as I headed down. Alas, I managed to really top myself this time, by not only barely managing to equalize, but by chundering EVERYWHARE at about 4 meters. As the other divers swam calmly but, i could tell, disgustedly away from the giant floating cloud of Thai food and happy fish, I kept on wretching and clutching at my ears, all the way back to the boat. My stomach still hurts, I can't hear properly, I don't have my certification, and I think I may be able to rule out diving as a hobby. Not much else memorable has happened, but I'm hoping to explore the island a little today, now that the sun's out. The boats have started running again, and I'm headed off the island and up to Chiang Mai tomorrow for my volunteer placement! More news soon. LYA