| Submitted by: Evelyn C. LeeperUnited States |
| Submission Date: 09 February 2005 |
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) He used
all sorts of ploys--he used to be a monk (true of many people in
Thailand), we shouldn't walk fast (away from him) in a temple (we
were walking steadily, but not fast), etc. We just said no, we had
to meet friends, but he didn't seem to believe us.
We returned to the hotel and went out about 5 PM to the night
market. Mark got a small statue of Ganesha, and we bought film, but
didn't really find anything else. Barbara and Steve bought
bedspreads, which involved measuring. Luckily Barbara had a tape
measure, because the vendors were very eager to please. 'Is this
king-size?' 'Yes, king-size.' 'I don't know; it looks more like
queen-size.' 'Yes, yes, queen-size.'
After poking around for a couple of hours, we went to the
Riverside for dinner. (Actually, it was another restaurant next to
the Riverside, but all the help wore Riverside shirts.) Then we
returned to the hotel, picking up water for the trek on the way.
October 12, 1990: We rose early, packed our bags, and checked
out, leaving our bags at the hotel for the day. After breakfast, we
returned to the hotel where we were met at 8:30 AM by Noy, our
guide. Now in the recommendation book at the Lai Tai, a couple of
women had written that Noy was 'huge' and 'big.' Noy was about 5'4'
tall--I don't think they were referring to his height.
We rode in a truck somewhat like a seelor, only newer and
slightly larger. It took us an hour and a half to get to our first
stop (not counting stops to pick up lunches and candy). This was a
waterfall, but to get to it you had to climb down a steep, muddy
path. (Some, such as Mark and Barbara, opted to *slide* down.) The
path looked as though it had been in better condition at one time
but recent rains had caused it to deteriorate. Whether the falls
were worth the effort is not clear; we're not talking Angel Falls
here.
We then returned to the truck and rode some more. This area
was definitely more isolated than the area closer to Chiang Mai.
The latter had towns we passed through, with shops and such. Here
the villages consisted of just a few shacks by the road. There were
rice paddies too, but mostly forest. Even here, though, the hand of
civilization is felt: at one point we had to negotiate under a
downed power line.
We also gave a lift to an old man with betel-stained teeth. He
spoke no English (and perhaps no Thai) so we couldn't really talk to
him but we did find out through sign language that he had hurt his
knee and been to have it treated.
One way to see more of the scenery as we passed was to ride
standing on the rear step of the truck holding on to the roof
ladder, so we took turns doing that when we were traveling on
unpaved roads. (On paved roads, the truck's speed was a bit too
high for that.)
From our next stop we walked to a Karen village. The Karen are
one of the hill tribes in the area. These hill tribes had all been
semi-nomadic but now the government has settled them in permanent
locations and, with increasing contact with the modern world (e.g.,
us), they are gradually losing their old ways of life. This
village, for example, had electricity and a television set.
The walk to the village was much easier than the walk to the
waterfall. We went through rice fields which the Karen cultivate.
The government is trying to get the hill tribes to stop growing
opium, though I'm sure the more isolated ones still do. So now the
tribes grow other cash crops instead.
The hardest part of getting to the village was the bridge over
the river. Have you seen ROMANCING THE STONE? Well, it wasn't
quite that bad, but it was close. The bridge consisted of four
bamboo poles laid across supporting cables. Bamboo is very springy
and the horizontal cable was too high to reach to hold on to. Noy
was able to take us across one at a time (except Binayak, whose
sense of balance was good enough that he could do it on his own--
plus he could reach the horizontal cable).
This village had about seventy people living in it, but because
it was mid-day, most were out working in the fields or elsewhere.
We did get to meet three or four women, about a dozen children, and
two old men--including the same one we gave the ride to earlier!
The village consisted of a couple dozen huts on stilts. Under
the huts were kept the livestock: mostly pigs and chickens, but a
few cattle. The cattle are the thin, humpback cattle of India
rather than what we see in the United States. (Even the cattle
crossing signs on the highways here show a different silhouette for
the cow.) Only the pigs seemed fat, probably because they are the
most omnivorous.
Noy told us about the Karen, but our inability to communicate,
combined with not even knowing where to begin, made the whole
situation a bit uncomfortable. They appeared happy enough to see
us, or at any rate not unhappy, but the situation just seemed a bit
awkward.
After this we drove to the rafting starting point. The rafts
consisted of bamboo poles tied together with pieces of old inner
tubes. There was a raised frame to sit on, but every time we went
through white water we got soaked anyway. Because of this we
couldn't bring our cameras--I recommend either a waterproof or a
disposable camera if you intend to try this.
After half an hour of drifting/racing down the Maewang River we
arrived at the elephant riding camp. We could tell because there
was an elephant being washed in the river.
We had lunch in the camp. It was a cold box lunch, not very
good but by being selective one could get an acceptable meal. I had
the hard-boiled egg and the fruit, skipping the fried chicken
drumstick and what looked like a bologna sandwich. While we were
eating, a baby elephant came over and snuffled at Mark. So Mark fed
it a piece of orange. Just like the book said, it *is* like feeding
a warm, wet vacuum cleaner. Unfortunately, none of us had our
cameras ready, so there is no picture of this event.
During lunch, we talked a bit more with Noy. We asked him what
he did in his spare time, when he wasn't trekking, and he said he
played in a heavy metal band. This seemed so incongruous to hear
from a guide sitting in an elephant camp, yet I'm sure he found
nothing inconsistent in it.
Next was a one-hour elephant ride. For this we rode in howdahs
on the elephants (two people to an elephant) rather than on the
elephant directly. It started out pleasant enough, but we seemed to
have a recalcitrant elephant and the drivers took to throwing rocks
at its hind legs to get it to move. Towards the end they were also
hitting it on the head with the flat end of a steel pick or pricking
it behind the ears with the pointed end. I realize elephants are
very large and have thick skins and all, but it still seemed like
unnecessary cruelty, and may have been making the elephant more
difficult. (At one point it started off into the brush off the
trail. Luckily the drivers managed to stop it and call it back--
none were actually on it at the time.) The other two elephants
didn't seem to be mistreated as much, so I would like to believe
that we just had a particularly ill-tempered driver. (I keep
telling myself that the elephant's lack of reaction to the hammering
must indicate that it wasn't feeling much from it--I wonder if
that's true.)
That aside, the ride was enjoyable. Yes, I know that sounds
like, 'But other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the
play?' but the scenery was gorgeous--hills covered with forests,
streams, and no signs of civilization except a rare glimpse of a
town far off in the distance. Though the trail was muddy and steep
in spots, the elephants were very sure-footed--the size of their
feet gave them a lot of traction. I'm sure there are those who
would say this was all very touristy and artificial, but there was
something exciting about realizing you're riding an elephant through
a jungle in Thailand!
We were dropped off at an elephant stop (there was a
dismounting platform in a clearing) and hiked another twenty minutes
uphill to the Meo (Hmong) village. Again, many of the villagers
weren't there but there were quite a few children (some playing Thai
volleyball). We distributed candy to everyone (not just the
children). I'm not entirely pleased with this sort of largesse--I'm
sure there are things that would be more useful and less harmful--
but it's hard to buck the system and I suppose if the villagers
expect candy they wouldn't be happy with soap or toothpaste (what
one book suggests).
This village had no electricity, and water came from a spring.
But someone was playing a transistor radio in one of the houses.
The houses here were not on stilts--with no large cattle, there was
no need for a large livestock area. There were pigs and chickens
running around and even cats and dogs.
Noy said he had last been to this village four or five months
ago. Yet his company runs these tours/treks every day, or at least
every day people sign up, so the village had to be visited several
times a week. And we saw a few other tourists from another trek
also. The whole scene seemed uncomfortably like going to a zoo to
gawk at the animals. But not speaking a common language made
communication difficult and the culture gap was so wide it was hard
to think of what to ask or say. And given we were there only about
a half hour, I suppose one shouldn't expect a major cultural
interchange.
A forty-minute hike down into the valley and then up again
brought us, exhausted, to the truck. The ride back managed to coat
us with dust, so when we got to the hotel we really needed to use
their shower rooms. (Even without the dust we would have needed
them.) The hotel provides (for a small fee) shower facilities for
guests who have checked out earlier in the day and then gone
trekking.
Refreshed and in dry shoes--mine had gotten soaked on the
raft--we ate dinner at J.J.'s, then caught a seelor for the train
station. Most seelors store the spare tire above the cab. This
one, into which we had to put all our luggage, stored it on the
floor in the passenger area.
The Chiang Mai train station is pretty small, but it still had
multiple tracks and we had to find someone to tell us which track
was ours. This was accomplished (show ticket, point to tracks, look
puzzled, get answer '4') and we settled in to wait for the train.
It arrived, but there didn't appear to be a car #2, our car. (The
cars are not numbered sequentially so you have to check each one.)
I went to a uniformed guard, showed our tickets, pointed to the car
number on the ticket, pointed to the train, and shook my head. He
motioned that more cars would be hooked on and, sure enough, our car
trundled up in a few minutes.
The sleeper car looked just like the one in SOME LIKE IT HOT,
except this one also had rotating fans on the ceiling. We had
thought the berths would be in compartments of four each, but they
were just placed along both sides of the car. I heaved my suitcase
into the upper berth and climbed up after it. The lower berths seem
to get all the head room; I couldn't sit up in the berth. So I
stretched out and watched the passing parade of people getting on.
We had heard much about securing our luggage on the train, but
it seemed as if everyone else felt perfectly comfortable leaving
their large parcels right in the aisle. |
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