Disentanglement

I've thought about how I might describe my the overnight hill trek I took in Northern Thailand. The visuals and superlatives all jump to mind, tripping over one another in an effort to get to the fore. And it all ends up just being a jumble of moments in my mind, with feelings to match. Here's my attempt at disentanglement:

I loved that on the way to the hiking trail in a pickup truck, we got stuck in the mud and I had to help push us out.

I loved that our guides were named A and Mr. T (self-dubbed the A Team).

I loved walking through green, unbelievably quiet rice paddies, and wondering how many years they had been providing for the people that tended to them.

I loved discovering a leaf that allows you to naturally blow bubbles from its stem.

I loved being greeted by a dog, a pig and three chickens as we came into the village we were staying in.

I loved that the people in that village are so removed from Thai life that they don't speak Thai, and they are not even considered Thai. They are a unique people, and the government recognizes them as such.

I loved that our dinner was cooked in a pot over a wood fire, all by a woman laying down right next to it on a mat.

I loved sitting outside by candlelight with some of the villagers, drinking village-made rice whisky, laughing and watching our guide do card tricks.

I loved practicing somersaults with one of the kids from the village.

I loved that a smile was the only form of communication I needed.


I guess it's all still a bit bunched together in my mind, but it takes on the shape of something unforgettable.