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.

Take a step that is new......

They have places for tourists on elephants. Sanitary, stable ones. They have metal saddles for us, with safety bars, like on a ski lift. That's where they put us.

Unless they put you on the neck.

Aforementioned saddle taken by two fellow travelers, I was grunted (no English was spoken here - it was an elephant farm about an hour away from Chiang Mai) in the direction of this elephant's neck. The only consolation I had was that our driver (ele-cabbie?) was sitting on the thing's head. He was singing and carving a slingshot; seeing no difference, it would seem, between pachyderm and household chair.

As the elephant walked, I dug in to remain topside, survival instinct setting in. My legs clamped like an electric vise, and my hands clutched at the creased, hairy skin like it was trying to get away. It was heavy skin, like ancient Kevlar. The animal's ears flapped back and forth and smacked my legs, like an giant (and relatively ugly) grey-spotted butterfly. Every step moved me a little-- up and down, an extension of the muscles moving below.

We went up hills, we went down hills. Our driver seemed unconcerned about gravity, or the fact that this seemed like an odd place for arts and crafts. He just sang a Thai tune, and occasionally kicked and instructed the elephant. The one command sounded to me like "DeWitt! DeWitt!" So, I immediately thought of Janet from Three's Company (Joyce DeWitt), and then I thought how lucky Jack and Larry could get at the Regal Beagle if they had an actual elephant with them. No doubt Mr. Roper would intervene as wet-blanket curmudgeon, and Mrs. Roper would work in an elephant joke about their bedroom life. It would be zany.

We had bananas with us, so when the elephant wanted fed, he reached back over his head with his trunk. I delivered the goods, as the closest one to the trunk. It was a process that had to be efficient. I would stare down the double-barrel of his trunk, counting down. Sometimes we would get it to him in time, but when we didn't.....

Elephants blow their noses, too. Sometimes, when you don't feed them fast enough, elephants blow their nose in your face. It's not as quaint as you might think.

You know those statues of Buddha -- not Serene Buddha with half smile, but Portly Buddha?
Well, I think I am putting on some sympathy weight.

Go North -- so sayeth the Queen.

I had planned on going south from Bangkok, to the island beaches. But it was the Queen's Birthday - a national holiday -- so everyone and their brother took the train south to the island beaches. The trains were full, and the islands would be mobbed, so I headed North to Chiang Mai instead.

That's the first time a regal birthday has affected my plans in any way. Just think, if her parents hadn't decided to get their groove on when they did, I might be on a beach right now. Dude.