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Published: August 26th 2008
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The Elephant Farm
Cranky when she's hungry An only slightly uncomfortable bus ride took us north from Sukhothai to Chiang Mai, which was instantly enchanting. The tuk-tuk from the bus station whirled us by classy restaurants, buzzing bars, and leafy sidestreets, and then beside and over the ancient moat that separates the older part of the city from the new. Our hotel - modern and clean - turned out to be in the perfect location from which to explore, and we would take full advantage.
We met up with our friends Sarah and Bob in our hotel lobby, and set out to explore the town's nightlife as a group. After an amazing dinner of specifically northern Thai curries and noodle dishes, we walked to the Chiang Mai's extensive night market by way of a long stretch of massage spas and dive bars - each overpopulated by prostitutes and a smattering of leering Western men. But the night market held more appeal, with row upon row of stalls filling the sidewalks and the surrounding arcades and alleys. Woodcarvings, handmade gameboards, shellacked cobras in glass cases, and wooden toys could be found among the brand-name knock-offs, pirated DVDs, and T-shirts. Jordan's resistance was tested and ultimately broken by the
wide array of Tintin t-shirts, which set him back a few hundred baht.
A lazy morning turned into a relaxed day as the four of us set off to explore the city. We toured the glittering and very active wats of the old city before breaking off from our friends to take care of some errands, which were fun in their own right. Over Jordan's long-overdue haircut, we chatted with the hairdresser about her Californian boyfriend, and she sought our advice -as Californians - about what he would want for his birthday. Our suggestion that she throw a surprise party for him turned a little awkward when she explained that his wife will be in town and that she will need to do something a little more subtle.
We next tracked down a tailor, who set giving Lindsay a very thorough measuring for a customized suit. Linz pieced together her ensemble from a collection of catalogs he had on hand. Her order in, we met up with our friends to explore a few more wats before a late-ish dinner. We set out to find another restaurant to try, but a very sudden torrential rainstorm broke open just as
Padong Karen Tribe "Longneck" Village
Possibly the most uncomfortable hour of our trip we were walking by the place we'd eaten the night before, and fate drove us in for a second night. The storm passed, and we again headed for the night market, loading up on amazing gifts.
The next day, the dawn saw the four of us loading into a cramped tuk tuk along with a very nice couple for a tour of the various sites around Chiang Mai. As always, we were leery of taking an organized tour, and having learned in Vietnam that they are, quite literally, not always what you bargain for, had low expectations. This tour, too, held its uncomfortable surprises - but the fault would turn out to be our own. After a stop at an orchid farm - which (naturally!) also houses an extensive vintage car collection - things took a turn for the exploitative.
We'd been excited to visit a Padong (or Karen long-neck) village, and had seen the pictures of how their necks are elongated as they grow up the yearly addition of stacked metal hoops. We also had some knowledge of their refugee status in Thailand. But we had not done our due diligence. As our guide led us through
the one visible opening in a very tall fence, he explained that the people we were about to see had escaped persecution in Burma, and that the benevolent Thai government had provided a home for them here. One that - barring urgent medical emergencies - they cannot leave. Ever. And even their Thailand-born children are not given free range of movement through the country. It is, essentially, a human zoo, and the next hour was a difficult one. Yes, we realized, many of the world's refugee populations are restricted in their movement, and yes, the Padong seemed healthy and happy enough. But the tourism component crossed some line for us (and with the few photographs we took, we lost any moral authority). It was uncomfortable for all of us, and we were eager to leave.
Our next stop, after a wild ride up muddy mountain roads, was an elephant farm. After witnessing the exploitation of human beings, some mild animal exploitation was a welcome relief. We bought a bunch of bananas and clambered aboard our very large female for a steep trek down to a river and back. The ride was made exciting by our elephant's occasional attempts to
pull down trees, the sudden cooling, blasts of mud from her trunk, and her persistent requests for bananas - made with a backward curled trunk. It was fantastic. Our next stop was a waterfall, deep in the jungle up a treacherous path. We didn't swim, but the rainstorm on our way back to the tuk tuk was probably a comparable experience.
That night in Chiang Mai, after a much delayed dinner at a new restaurant, we sought out some karaoke. Bob had asked for a suggestion from the hotel staff, but when the four of us arrived, it was clear that their suggestion reflected what they thought a male, western tourist would like, and probably not their own preference. The place was a brothel, or just about. We walked in to find a line-up of young women in matching red dresses, and were escorted by the hostess (madame?) upstairs to the silent karaoke floor. We got our own room, and after it became clear to the ownership that we really, no really, were just there to sing, they left us pretty much alone. And then we sang our hearts out to the limited but satisfactory English-speaking music selection. The
highlight was Jordan and Bob's rendition of "I Want It That Way," by the Backstreet Boys.
The next morning, we set off just the two of us to explore the city. We stopped by Lindsay's tailor for a fitting, minutes after a motorcycle accident had peeled back much of the skin on his arm. The suit (coat, slacks, skirt) fit great and was expertly constructed, and needed only minor adjustments before we could pick it up in the late afternoon. Not bad for just over a hundred dollars!
But for some reason, it took a lot out of us, so we arranged an hour-long massage. While Lindsay's was relatively conflict-free, Jordan's was a trial of flexibility and pain - in a good way. His masseuse was tiny, but somehow she made Jordan's knee touch his ear, curiously employing her own deftly placed foot.
Next, we headed for a cooking class: the definite highlight of our visit to Chiang Mai. With only the two of us in the lesson, the master chef first took us to the local market to pick up the ingredients we needed for the dishes we had selected. Over the next three hours, he showed us how to identify quality tamarind paste, distinguish coconut water from coconut milk from coconut cream, and how to put everything together to create delicious spring rolls, pad thai, and massaman and panang curries. He made it seem very simple, and we're optimistic that if we can somehow track down things like palm sugar in New York, we'll be able to recreate it.
Absolutely stuffed, we met up for one last night of cards and beers with Sarah and Bob, and rested up for our flight to Bangkok the next morning.
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kingsley
non-member comment
I wish I had my camera...
wow guys! Great post! And even better adventures. I wish I were a fly on ths wall with my camera. Hope the rest of the trip is as interesting! .K