ThailandNorth

The YMCA was no where near the quality of the Hong Kong YMCA which left us a little disappointed but it was cheap and we were tired. Even though all the cars were gone the air pollution remained and every time I took a breath my lungs would let me know that they were not having a good time. I awoke the next morning with a runny nose and overall feeling of ill health. I am used to having sinus problems so I gathered up some Kleenex and Karen tried to figure out the best way to Chaing Mai. The trains heading north are night trains and take around ten hours to get to Chaing Mai. So much for taking the train, no way was I going to get on a 10+ hour bus ride so that meant back to the airport. Flying is very convenient in Thailand, Thai Airways had flights leaving for Chaing Mai every hour and it was only $40 US per person. We called and made a 2:00 PM reservation, packed our bags, had some breakfast and headed to the airport. I had been in Bangkok for 12 hours and I couldn’t wait to get out. We arrived at the airport a couple hours early and got an earlier flight by going standby.

During the flight Karen consulted the travel guides and put together a short list of places to stay in the old town of Chaing Mai. We arrived at 1:00 PM grabbed our bags and went in search of a taxi. Karen was ready she had the address written down, local currency and a desire to party. We walked out into the taxi area and as we showed the address to each person that approached they quickly said no. At first we thought we were in the wrong place but we kept trying and no one would even quote us a really outrageous price. The only common answer we kept getting was Tuk-Tuk and we had no idea what that meant. We ventured back into the airport and approached a limousine service and they quickly said no and began to ignore us. I had the map out and circled the place we wanted to go, how hard could this be? Finally, after much frustration, we began to understand the reason nobody would take us.... the area was packed with people making it impossible to drive. OK, I understand traffic problems-- can you take us close enough so we can walk the rest of the way? This required some consulting with a couple of drivers and the answer was still no. I turned to Karen and asked "Are you sure we should be going to this." At this point we should have been wearing our Tourist Geek hats because we were way out of our league. After the drivers consulted and said "No" the only answer was Tuk-Tuk. A few minutes later a small hybrid three wheel motorcyle-amusement park ride pulled up. The driver had handle bars and the back seat was big enough for two with no place for luggage. This vehicle would be able to navigate back roads and side streets because of it small size. Karen and I were excited about our first Tuk-Tuk ride and wearing our stupid tourist hats we jumped in and were off. At this point we had some knowledge of the festivities, we think they include water throwing and drinking of whiskey. Both sports we felt that we could participate in. We showed our Tuk-Tuk driver the address and the name of the guest house-no problem- we were assured.

I even mentioned to Karen in Bangkok that I wished I had known about the water throwing part earlier because we could have brought one of those really cool water guns and had the advantage. Did I mention water throwing. The tourist definition of Songkran Festival is "Every Thai man, woman and child able to hold a bucket, water hose, or gigantic water rifles, shall wait on the road side and soak each person passing by to the bone." Here we are traveling in an open air vehicle with our big green bags, backpacks filled with video camera and laptop both of us wearing our, "Hi, we are stupid tourists can you please throw as much water as possible on us T-shirts". It was a disaster we had no place to hide and our Tuk-Tuk driver, at the site of another ambush, would slow down and ask them not to throw water. This only gave our attackers the chance to hit without missing. Karen and I had enough and it was time to take charge. We had to teach our driver the art of speeding up when the enemy attacks. This only helped a little bit and next thing on our list was to pull over and get plastic bags for some instant water proofing of our gear. OK, Karen and I are now ready to get wet even though water is currently running out the top of our shoes. Our stupid tourist hats and shirts were soaked to the bones and the locals were loving every minute of it.

The heart of Chaing Mai is surrounded by a square moat with the road on the inside for counterclockwise traffic and the road on the outside for clockwise traffic. We drove around back roads on the inside of the moat and it became apparent that our Tuk-Tuk driver had no idea where he was going. We kept telling him it was near the Tha Phae Gate, a major city landmark. He just kept driving- we were wet and getting wetter every minute. In defense of our Tuk-Tuk driver he was not having a good time either. We accidentally drove by the Libra guest house, which had been our first choice but they had told us over the phone that they were full. I yelled for the Tuk-Tuk driver to stop and ran in soaking wet to get directions. I was greeted at the gate by a barrage of water throwing friendly natives. I declared truce and told them they could throw water at me when I left because I was too easy of a target. The girl who greeted us, her name is Daow, spoke enough English to be an amusing smart ass. She had one room available for two days but not three our original telephone request. We got a nice room with a fan and bath for 150 Baht or about $4 US. Karen was excited to be in a backpacker guest house with fellow travelers. The Libra had a nice outside eating area and after changing we retreated for a banana shake and beer. Karen and I were in budget backpacker land and the customers around us were all extremely odd but interesting. Karen was having a great time finding out were everyone had gone, the best places to go and I sat back and drank some more beer. After three or four beers, Daow, the one full of knowledge decided to warn us about the dangers of alcohol. We appreciated her concern and moved onto another bar and drank some more beer. We returned to our hot room, turned the fan on high and sweated the night away.

The next morning I awoke early, feeling that my sinus problem had turned into a cold, I decided to go for a walk and clear my head. I returned a couple hours later and informed Karen that I was not feeling very well. The water war had begun and it was impossible to venture out without getting soaking wet. This would not have been a problem except half the water being thrown was from the disgusting moat. Both sides of the moat had bumper-to-bumper traffic filled with trucks and in the back well-armed locals loaded with water guns, buckets and 55 gallon drums of water. The streets were covered with the opposition who setup camp at the moat's edge or local business. The object of the water war allowed the people in the trucks to throw water at the people in the streets and the people in the streets to return fire. The source of water of those on the water’s edge and those driving the trucks was brown nasty moat water. Karen and I decided we did not want to play and would be happy to watch. It was shame to because it was unbearably hot and no air-conditioning to be had. I figured that we should head to an Internet Cafe because it would be air-conditioned and we could get some work done. We set off down the street our things wrapped in plastic, trying hard to avoid getting soaked. For the most part we only got hit with a few water guns and we spent the rest of the afternoon in an upstairs air-conditioned loft for $2.50 US an hour. I spent most of my time on the Internet reading about Malaria. After we ate and had numerous beverages it was time to go and we paid our $15 US bill. The proprietor returned a huge smile and she informed us that we were best customers ever. It is really cheap in Chaing Mai and most backpackers live on $10 US a day. I was not feeling well and a fever set in. The heat was making me miserable and I was not looking forward to our non-air conditioned room and the 100+ degree temperatures. The room was costing $4 US a night and we could check into a nice hotel with air for $15 US a night. For me, it was not a hard choice. Karen would have nothing to do with it and I received the riot act. I was really feeling ill and did not feel like arguing so I agreed to try to stay one more night and we would check in to air-conditioning tomorrow. It was 11:00 PM and I was on fire so I kissed Karen good-bye grabbed my bag and set out for the hotel. On the way I stopped for any kind of medicine that I thought would help and picked up a thermometer. I was really concerned, I had never had a fever like this and the thermometer would let me know if I was approaching the brain damage temperature of 104 degrees. The night was filled with 103 degree fevers, followed by chills, runny nose and excessive coughing. The next morning I returned to the Libra guest house to help Karen with the bags and we returned to the hotel. I told Karen that I needed to go to the hospital because I must have malaria.

The hospital was very nice and the nurses were dressed in beautiful Thai Sarongs. If you get a chance go to a Thai hospital it is worth the fashion show. We fumbled our way through various people had the temperature taken, blood pressure and ended up at a doctor were I explained my problem. He sent me to the lab for some blood tests. I knew I had malaria because when they drew my blood it was really really dark. I am now sure that this has no relation but at the time I thought it could only mean Malaria. We had spent two months in South America and only took Malaria medicine in Venezuela at Angel falls. Malaria medicine has all kind of side effects so we were not real gung-ho about taking it. After a short period, I was taken back into the doctor’s office and he informed me that the tests did not show malaria. I was relieved but I was still sicker than I could ever remember. I was developing a really nasty case of Bronchitis or more popularly known in Thailand as Bangkok cough. The air pollution gets the sinuses running and the bacteria moves in and makes people sick. He prescribed antibiotics. I spent the next three days in bed trying to get well so we could go on a three day trek to the Burmese border.



Karen spent the next three days bringing me food in little plastic bags because the local restaurants do not have anything that resembles Styrofoam or dishes. It was interesting drinking a banana milk shake out of a plastic bag with a straw in it. Karen signed up for a city tour with the highlight being a trip to a Buddhist temple at the top of the mountain called Doi Suthep. She took the video camera and her mission was to capture some good footage so I would not have to make the trip. It looks like the place was worth the trip but Karen still need some video lessons. I have been told that her video shooting skills are inherited from the father. Something about, "We couldn’t watch the video of the Krumholtz family Hawaii trip because it made us sick." I had no choice but to recover. Karen could not understand why I could not get out of bed.

The day approached for our three day trek and I felt well enough for a walk in the countryside. We signed up for the Libra guest house trek at a cost of $40 a person that included meals and two nights in the head man’s lodge. Almost every guest house in Chaing Mai books or runs a tour so the prices are very competitive. We met our fellow trekkers and I was surprised to find six women and two guys. The macho males included myself and an interesting guy named Masa from Japan who carried a guitar with him wherever he went. He planned on carrying this on three days of walking, a four hour bamboo raft ride and an elephant trek. The rest of the hiking ladies came from New Zealand, Denmark and Sweden. We loaded up in the back of a truck and headed for the Burma border- a hot, dusty and bumpy three hour ride.

We arrived at the starting point of our trek which is in Thailand. The border of Burma is closed because it is very dangerous due to the 300 various guerrilla armies fighting for control. Burma was once a British colony and a huge exporter of Opium to England and China. Opium comes from the poppy plant and is considered to be in the same class as marijuana but only better. Opium is either smoked or further refined into the dangerous and addicting drug called Heroin. The local villages in Burma made so much money selling Opium that they were able to finance their own private armies. So as we got out of the truck, in Thailand, our guide introduced us to a border guard/guerrilla from Burma. The guide insisted that we all shake his hand and we would be on our way.

This was our first official trek and we were both concerned about being in shape. The first day’s walk was four hours long and was a little strenuous. We had no problem keeping up with the group but the two Florida flatlanders were using muscles they had never used before. After a four hour hike through some hilly countryside we arrived at a village of the Lanu Hill tribe. We did not know what to expect upon arrival. Our guide speaks three or four of the local languages and has done this hundreds of times. The head man of the village provides a large bamboo hut for organized trekkers to sleep in. They showed the group of eight to their room and we settled in. The floor was raised about three feet off the ground and was built with flattened bamboo. They provided blankets that I felt very confident had not been washed in a very long time. Karen and I brought our camping air mat and sleep sack. It was getting close to dinner and our guide was preparing our meal. He carried the food for the entire group and made some very filling meals. The cooking is done inside over an open fire that does wonders for the hut paint job. The corner of every hut was covered in black soot and slightly burned bamboo. I asked the guide why they did not cook outside and he pointed out, "because they cook inside." Our guide was full of answers like that-either related to a Thai sense of humor or he has led too many treks and answered too many dumb foreigner questions. The most popular answer to our questions was, "SAME SAME BUT DIFFERENT." He even had a shirt with a Marijuana leaf and Poppy Flower and the caption "SAME SAME BUT DIFFERENT."

After dinner it was time for shopping and the girls were bombarded by the ladies of the village. In an effort to keep the villages from growing poppy flowers for drug sales the government is promoting the village craft industry. The ladies selling belts, bracelets, hats and bags were relentless salespeople. Everyone bought something but not enough. The village was poor as are most remote villages and the money probably really helped. The village was home to about 275 people but most of the men were gone to the cities for work or hunting for food. The village grows a dry rice and vegetables as the main food source. During the rainy season it rains for weeks at a time that makes it impossible to gather food or even go outside. Our guide showed us the backup plan for rain. It consisted of a bag of dead crickets and any one of the numerous dogs running around. I would not be moving to a village anytime soon. If I had to I could probably eat dog but after smelling the bag of dead crickets, I knew village life was not for me. Masa, our Japanese guitar playing friend, was talked into putting a performance. I am not sure if the local villagers had ever heard a guitar or Japanese guitar music but they were mesmerized. Every little kid crowded as close as they could to Masa as he played out his heart and soul. We all sat around the table drinking homemade rice whiskey watching Masa play guitar by candlelight. I think this is why Masa brought his guitar in the first place. He was a hit and had just made thirty new fans. It was time to sleep because it was getting late, "8:00 PM." I asked our guide what time we needed to get up and he replied in the Thai humor "You will be up around 4:00 AM." He then pointed to the numerous roosters running around and I got out my earplugs and went to sleep.

The next morning was filled with a huge egg breakfast and the beginning of a long day. The muscles that I had used yesterday were now very sore. We had a four hour walk and a four hour bamboo raft ride ahead of us before we would be at the next village. It was fifteen minutes into the walk and both Karen and I new we were in trouble. The day before we had no problem keeping up with the group and actually led the pack. Today our legs were sore and the climbing a little steeper. The two girls from New Zealand had trained for months before their trip and they weren’t even sweating. Our guide did this every day so he would walk back and forth in the line making sure that Karen and I were not falling too far behind. The absolute worst place to be in a hiking line, when you are having trouble, is at the back. The group would spread out and the front would be far enough ahead that they would take a break and wait for the back of the line: Karen and Scooter. We would catch up to the group who had been resting for the last ten minutes and they would set off again leaving Karen and I with no chance to rest. It was a real pain-in-the-butt to be at the end of the line. After four hours of walking we arrived at a river and a small hut, which would be our launching point for the bamboo raft ride.

Our guide started a fire, grabbed a big pot of water and started to prepare lunch. Everyone was tired and we could not wait to eat. The menu was a spicy noodle dish and was really good even if you had to pick out the flies. A basket was hanging from a pole filled with three tiny fish covered with flies. These flies had had enough of the fish and decided they wanted to sample some noodles. After preparing our lunch our guide grabbed the fish, stuck them on a stick and waited for his lunch to be done. I have no idea how the fish got from the river to the basket and how long they had been there. The people of Thailand both in the remote villages and cities have killed and eaten almost every animal that called Thailand home. In the three days that we walked I did not see any animals or birds. As we traveled along the river any fish caught no matter what the size was eaten. After a short rest, a tall local fellow showed up to share the fish and to captain the other bamboo boat. A bamboo boat ride is a tourist invented sport and has no practical application for the locals. I was told that a Thai would rather walk than ride. We were actually at the starting point for bamboo rafting and the place where bamboo rafts are made. The rafts are about 30 ft long and are made up of 3 inch wide bamboo strapped together with bamboo strips. Gilligan and the Professor could not have built a nicer bamboo raft. In the center of each raft was a bamboo A-Frame that we hung our gear on to keep it dry. I asked our guide how they got the boats back up the river and he pointed out that the boats are one-way only. The boats are built here and then get reused four or five times by different tourist groups at various locations down the river. It was hard to imagine the time and energy that went into building the boats and they would only be used five times.

Each boat would carry five people so our guide distributed trekkers by weight and we loaded our gear and set off for a boat ride. The river was low due to the lack of rain and we would get stuck in numerous places but for the most part the bamboo boats, even though they are underwater, were very sturdy and sea worthy. We spent the afternoon drifting down the water our guides steering in the front and the back person helping to keep the boat straight for the little mini rapids that we would encounter. The ever popular water fight between boats occurred on numerous occasions and our new boat captain/guide even got thrown in the water. It must be embarrassing to have a bunch of tourist girls throw you in the water. It was pointed out that our new guide had been national kick boxing champion in Thailand and would have no problem defending himself. I think he liked the attention from the females in the group. We had arrived at our destination a small man-made dam/waterfall. The waterfall itself was natural but the locals had built a bamboo slanted wall to cover the rocks. This allowed the water and bamboo rafts to ride down smoothly. We departed for shore before the boats were captained over the waterfall because a tourist had been injured last week.

We had not showered or bathed in two days so the thought of swim was on everyone’s mind. The area was filled with village locals casting nets, doing laundry or taking a bath. Karen and I had prepared for a swim that morning so we already had our swimsuits on. The other five women had to change and only one had anything that resembled a swimsuit. So the local village men all eating tiny two inch fish and drinking rice whiskey all got a show. I am sure they all sat back and said "This tourist thing is kind of cool." After watching the girls take baths, they were all offered lots of rice whiskey and as many small fish as they could eat. I am not sure how successful the villagers had been in the past of seducing tourist girls but they sure were trying hard.

A short walk up a hill and we were checked into our Lisu village for the night. Our guide explained some of the village’s background and customs. One of the customs was the beauty of the village women. The young women were all very pretty and were dressed in bright colored outfits. It was suprising how stunning some of the girls were. Genetics are an amazing thing. Tonight's setup was the same as the night before but we were close to a town so we were able to get ice for whiskey and coke. It is amazing the difference ice makes in providing the comforts of home. After dinner we all sat around the table listening to Masa play the guitar and drinking lots of whiskey.



The final and third day would involve an elephant ride and a walk through a cave. Karen and I were happy not to be walking for four hours. We walked into town and we arrived at the elephant bus station. Elephants have been used for hundreds of year for logging and other bulldozer related tasks in Thailand. Unfortunately, the locals have had a huge impact on the environment and deforestation is occurring at alarming rates. The Thai government has outlawed the cutting of teak trees and other timber in the remote parts of Thailand. This has left the elephants with nothing to do and nobody wanting to pay for elephant groceries. So an elephant trek for the tourists helps pay the bills. We read a couple of stories in the local papers about killer elephants and the use of elephants for illegal timber cutting. The elephants are so mistreated and overworked that they have no problem stepping on their trainer or any other human in their way. Frankly, I don’t blame them. What to do with the elephants is a big problem and after our three hour elephant ride, tourism is not the answer. Each elephant carried three people that rode in a bamboo bench strapped to their back. The bench had the appropriate rugs for padding but could not have been comfortable for the elephant. Our elephant guide rode on the neck of the elephant and tried to get as much of a drug induced sleep as possible. On more than one occasion our elephant would walk into some bushes and piss off our elephant guide. Our trekking guide was not with us and after an hour I was ready to walk myself. The elephant ride itself is not comfortable and the elephants do not enjoy it. The whole experience got worse when one of the walking guides bent over a pool of hot muddy water and used a syringe to grab water. He tried to be discreet but when you are riding on top of an elephant you can see everything. I then watched this person mix a batch of heroin with the muddy water and shoot up. This guy is in charge of an elephant. If I could have only taken those three elephants home with me.... The final leg of the trip was up a steep hill and the elephants required some prodding. As we came over the ridge we saw our trekking guide waiting for us. He again pointed out that a Thai would rather walk than ride. It was time to get off the elephants and each elephant walked up to a small embankment and buried its head into the dirt wall. They needed no instruction from their guides for the- get these tourists off my back move. The rest of the day was spent walking through a cave and a long bumpy ride through the mountains back to Chaing Mai. It was worth it but Karen and I were glad it was over.