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Published: December 12th 2006
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Today we are to make our trek to a hill tribe village in, well, the middle of nowhere. As a warm up, we are taken to an elephant show. It really is incredible what they can train elephants to do, although in the back of the mind you do gulitily wonder how happy the elephants are about it, its impressive none the less. After painting some pretty intimidating portraits holding a brush with their trunk (one drew the outline of an elephant, others drew vases of flowers), a giant football is brought out for a penalty shootout. One of them was quite tasty and caught the ball sweetly to hammer it into the back of the net on many attempts. Although I did have to question the goalie elephant's motivation at times. It felt like strange reconstruction of the football scene in bedknobs and broomsticks.
From there we begin our trek up through hilly terrain to reach the Palong village. The trek itself is actually suprisingly tough in the heat and there's more than a few quick breaks. Although the guide, who is up front clearing a path with a machete, doesnt even break sweat. We reach the village and
it does feel like we're the first visitors to unknown land, bamboo huts with animals chasing around, children staring and giggling nervously around us. Its only when I notice some solar panels that I realise this isnt going to be quite the fish out of water experience I first thought, someone thought they heard a T.V somewhere. They must take all the westerners here, I imagine other tribes probably see this as the hollywood village. Nonetheless its a cool taste of how these hill tribe villages live, its very peaceful and the inhabitants get on with their daily chores regardless of us. Once again I'm the subject of curious attention as we head down to the 'lake' (really more like stream) for a swim, one of the group speculates that I might be the whitest thing the villagers have ever seen. Maybe its time to downgrade from factor 40.
We're shown our communal hut where we are to sleep, which is a nightmare for one of the group, he suffers from sleep apnea and has been known imitate thunder with his snoring, he's very apologetic. I feel bad for the guy but it could be a long night for
the rest of us. After dinner we're asked to sit around the fire as the village children are going to put on a show for us. This entailed ten girls aged from 4-16 shifting weight between feet and unenthusiastically making repetative hand shapes to the accompaniment of a tune which I suspect the player has only just mastered the 4 bar start to, and is quite content playing that over and over. It goes on for about half an hour. I feel sorry for the girls, they clearly dont want to be there and to be honest, nor do we, but we smile and show appreciation to keep their spirits up. The older girls portray the expression of those nearing the end of a prison stretch, after years of this, they'll be out soon. After this we are asked to join in by circling the fire and clapping in beat to the music player, the same tune which we all know by now. Once again this goes on for about 30mins and you do feel like a bit of an idiot but its very amusing at the same time. They can pretty much get us to do whatever they want
because we think its normal. It has massive potential for pranks.
They've done their bit and its time for our show, there had been rumours flying around all day that we'd have to sing to the children in seperate groups of our nationalities. The rumours were true, luckily I'd had a few preparational beers and was ready to make a fool of myself. The six aussies went up first and predictably did Waltzing Matilda, the lone New Zealander gave a sterling performance in a language I didnt understand, then came the Brits. There were 3 of us and we had tried to think of songs during the day but had nothing. The premise was to sing something typical of your country but none of us new the words to anything close to that. We had a tip that the kids love the monkey song from the jungle book but ashamadly none of us could recall all the words to that either. We were beckoned to our feet and quickly agreed on 'You Are My Sunshine' as a last ditch measure. Pretty lame I know but we gave the performance with true British grit, although two of us didnt know
the second verse so had to wing it. The key was a bit high for my liking and broke a few times, leaving the kids with a false impression of how the song is to sound. The two Canadians sneakily pulled a fast one on the singing duties with one instead choosing to lead a hastily choreographed dance routine to 'You Are My Sunshine' as we all sang it (mainly consisting of standing up, sitting down, going side to side). This was a masterstroke and the kids loved it, they all got enthusiastically involved for the second verse. After that though, we were spent. We couldnt stop now, the kids were only just starting to enjoy themselves. After a fruitless brainstorming session I was hit with a rare moment of true inspiration, the Hokey Cokey. A good idea but it was bitter sweet, I was already suffering from some pretty humbling stomach conflicts and the toilet was a torch-light adventure away. I managed to hold on with mental anguish for 5 verses though and we stopped, having deemed the entertainment a roaring success. I celebrated by beginning my quest for the toilet.
We ended the night with drinking games
and headed to bed exhausted. I found out the next day it was only 10pm when we hit the sack, which was lucky because we were treated to a cockerell concerto at 5am.
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hokey cokey?
awesome! heh. treat to hear that 'singing' voice - i wonder how the villagers woudl take to something like run dmc.