For "my friend" Kendra
Then we took another plane from Bangkok to Chiang-Mai, the second largest city in Thailand where Thaksin was from. It is a rambling, loosely organized city devoid of skyscrapers. It does not have the massive numbers of people that Beijing has, so we feel put at ease. (Ironically, since it is still very busy, with a lot of movement.) It is warm and tropical. We are but a short drive from Burma and Laos. Which explains why in its extenisve history, it was originally controlled by Burma (1296). It was made part of Siam in 1933. All I can think is that there are stories here. A lot of stories and I won't get a fraction of them on this trip, but at least I get how much I don't know. More than one person mentions the old opium triangle, and more than one inssits that the Thai no longer grow opium since 1977. This implies that it is still grown in Burma and Laos. At least now I know where the Mekong River is and I find out it is the third longest after the Nile and Amazon.
There is another ornate Buddhist temple every few feet, 121 to be precise within the city limits, 300 in all here. Screaming traffic by the incensed gold stupas is a vision. Young monks barefoort in saffron robes, everyone removes their shoes to enter. Our tuk tuk driver tells us he only spent seven days as a monk. It is something you can do when you have money, not when you are poor. Dedication to spiritual practice is a luxury that many can't afford. I thought when you couldn't earn a living in the West, a last option was to join a monastery.
As soon as I entered the grounds of a Wat (temple)-and we went to many-Wat Phra Singh, Wat Chedi Luang, Wat Chiang Man, Wat Jet Yot- the list goes on- my heart rate slowed down and I had time. I felt myself present, my breath dropped-I became almost instantaneously calm-peaceful-whole. The temples were not crowded as the tourist season is from November to mid-February. Walking barefoot around the temple grounds, absorbing the good blessings that have accumulated after centuries of meditation in this place. There was certainly a different vibration, a different air quality. Entering the temple where many giant gold statues of Buddhas preside are altars with flowers and incense and many replicas of enlightened beings.
The old city is still bound with the crumbling old walls, a moat surrounding. Tiny streets, intricate single lanes tangle together and even a map won't help. If you venture down one you will see gardens and shacks or manicured two story teak houses. Every walk of life side-by side and at the present, at peace. On every corner a small Buddhist shrine-a gold house on white stilts, fresh incense burns.
Curries-red, green-coconut milk and chilies. I love the Thai soups and vegetables-fish soufflés in banana leaves. I went to Thai cooking school for a day and made spring rolls and Pad Thai, pumpkin in coconut milk(what else). Kaffir limes-the bumpy kind-smashed garlic, don't take off the skins and bird's eye chili-don't swallow. By the time I had gotten back to China, my digestive track might never be the same again.
This seems to be a handicraft and weaving capital. The tribes who have migrated from China or other destinations live in the mountains surrounding the city. And the city has one bazaar after another of beads and woven change purses, bags and scarves. The merchants seem to be constantly setting the goods out and taking them down. There is more stuff than could ever be sold. Supposedly the Thai government is supporting the hillside tribes-the Hmong, the Karen and the Mien They still live in their traditional ways. The Hmong live in the mountains and now only come down for education, commerce and to work in the fields. The women do the weaving, take care of the children, stay home-the men can have many wives. There many types of Karen the white, the red, the long neck. The white are the ones where the women have to wear white if they are virgins. The women weave and the men, what we saw were the men sleeping behind. The women's weaving is what provides clothes for the family and the way they make money and the men are the emissaries to the outside world who bring the weaving to market. It is said, if a woman can't weave she cannot have a family-it means she cannot take care of her family. The long necks are the tribes where women wear solid gold for about a foot long wrapped around their necks. Long necks are a sign of beauty-but we are told that the gold protects the throat from tiger attacks. Gold is also worn on the knees for this same reason.
My friend and I are on an elephant. Elephants are the symbol of Thailand. There are many here and are deemed good luck. This is not a dream, but it feels like one. The lumbering steps of the giant beast rock us back and forth and we had no idea where we were going, but apparently the jungle is the destination. I thought we were going on a tourist expedition around in a circle near camp, but we just keeping lurching side to side on a steep path. As soon as we are out of sight of civilization, our elephant driver cries out in a high pitch squeal bringing his large metal hook near the head of the majestic creature. We get the crazy driver (I make up the story that he is an opium addict, and none of the elephant drivers speak English so...). Of course at first we gasp-but then I realize this is his fun: looking for a reaction from the tourists in the middle of the jungle. My mantra from this point on is, don't react. Don't let them see you react. That is what they are looking for.
The next stop was bamboo rafting. No one told us to bring a change of clothes or our bathing suits. All I can think is, do any of these businesses have insurance? This whole thing is a civil suit waiting to happen. Our mantra came in handy. As we are in the middle of nowhere sitting on bamboo stalks lashed together with rope on a river that has got to serve as the passing towns' sewage system. The natives (they seemed to be from the tribes) stood at the front of makeshift rafts pushing off the bottom and rocks with yet another bamboo stick in a form of ancient steering. Our raft captain was wearing boxer briefs which had a gigantic rip down the back. "Don't react." It became a game of his to slap the surface of the water near us in order to splash and get us wet. Really, who was going to stop them? Again, I assured my friend that no reaction was the best way we were going to get out of this.
I found myself eating in open air roadside restaurant on the way to the jungle. Bare benches, uneven wooden tables and dirt floors. So far away from home and any known signs except, of course, Coca Cola- I was hungry and so sidled up beside my friend who assured me it would be okay. The vegetables were crisp and clean tasting and the boiled potatoes were warm and wholesome. The cold Chang beer (I never drink beer) seemed to go well with the meal. And I found a simple happiness. A surprising, profound contentment. An unexpected completion, as if I had found something I had never known I was looking for. Who would have known this would make me happy? Thinking back over my life, I can't really say which turn brought me here. I wonder how it all led to this place alongside a road in the middle of the Thai jungle.
And it is at that moment that I get the feeling of overwhelming simplicity. Like really I am just a grub on a leaf. (Thank you Zorba the Greek). There are eventualities you would never be able to plan for. There are blessings for which you would never know how to pray. And suddenly without any intention on my part, this moment becomes magnified. My life does not expand out, it seems to expand inwards. And I am that grub tasting the leaf of the earth, touching it, smelling it, beating on it. I tremble. I am reaching and peering beyond the end of the leaf into the whole terrifying magnificent mystery. I am too dizzy and delirious to say I like it or not. And it wouldn't matter anyway.
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