Chiang Mai, Thailand
15 March 2006 (Looking back to early January)
From a window of the new 3-story Starbuck’s I watched the chaotic rush of Thai traffic hurtling along concentric roads that circle the crumbling remains of the old Chiang Mai city wall. Like ancestral beltways, the ring roads were a tangle of cars, trucks, motorcycle taxis and bicycles, with potential conflicts miraculously mediated by honking horns. Less than an hour before, Bei and I had been in that traffic on a rented motor scooter experiencing what I had thought sounded like a fun way to get out of town to see a little of the famous hill country surrounding the city. But acclimating to driving on the left side of the road where you can’t read the signs in serious traffic on an unfamiliar motorbike with a 4-year-old pinched between your knees is neither relaxing nor especially fun (though there were moments of exhilaration).
After a token stop at Wat Jet Yot (a temple) on the outskirts of town (Bei: “Papa! Can we ride some more??!!), where we shared an ice cream and a soda (and a walk), Bei and I headed back into town. I was beginning to feel comfortable on the bike just as we found our way back through the maze of streets to the rental shop near the Midtown Guesthouse where we were staying. On another day, we saw two western women picking themselves up off a road after crashing their motorcycle. Apparently only abraded, and with bike damage limited to cosmetics, they were lucky. I read later that many Westerners meet more serious fates riding rented iron on the twisting back roads of northern Thailand, where blood transfusions might not be the most desirable option (though I think the big city hospitals are good). For one thing, it’s difficult not to revert to instincts cemented by decades of driving on the right side of the road. With harrowing results. Anyway, Bei and I got off easy and I acknowledge a less than insightful parental decision.
Chiang Mai is the second largest city in Thailand but much smaller than Bangkok. Established in the 13th century (according to a web source), it is thick with old temples and remnants of times past. But the biggest draw for most visitors is the famous northern Thai hill country that surrounds the city and is home to ethnic groups, including the Hmong, Karen (a subgroup of whom are the long-necked tribes that use metal rings to push their shoulders down so that their necks appear longer), Lahu, Akha and Yao tribes. My ambition in Chiang Mai was to see some of these tribal villages and to do a little exploring in the hill country, but our time was limited and I had promised Bei that when in Thailand we would ride elephants, an activity that can be had for the price of a day tour. So time for ‘off the beaten path’ exploration didn’t really exist.
In the end, we spent a scripted, touristy (but mildly fun) day taking in made-for-visitors hill country sites and accomplishing an elephant ride and some minor bamboo rafting on a small stream, both to Bei’s delight. And we dinked around the city for half a day (sampling real pastries at the Starbuck’s, for one thing) before heading back south to meet Ellen in Bangkok. Chiang Mai is nicer than Bangkok in some ways (less urban) and with more time one could have some good adventures. Perhaps we will return someday, though the lure of southern Thailand climbing is stronger for me.
Here are some photos from our brief visit...
Pushing the envelope: this crumbling temple, called Wat Jet Yot (which in Thai means "at the edge of the death traffic zone"), was as far as Bei and I got on our rented scooter and I thanked the Buddha that we were halfway through our riding adventure without serious abrasions or loss of life. We sat in the shade eating chips and ice cream and then wandered around the peaceful grounds while Bei lobbied for more traffic adventures and I wrestled with my blood pressure.
Temple architecture at Wat Jet Yot.
What could I tell a monk in a "monk chat"? That I'm a bad dad for taking my 4-year-old daughter on a scooter ride in Chiang Mai traffic? That I won't do it again? That I'm sorry??!!
Temple trees in Thailand are often wrapped in silk to show reverence. At Wat Jet Yot these white-painted, forked sticks were also common and were propped around the huge old trees that provided the only shade for monks and tourists.
Our nod to motorcycle safety. In a high speed collision, at least our heads would have been intact.
A typical temple statue. Often there were long rows of identical stone carvings like these, or collections of people and animals.
On the first stop of our hill country tour, we descended from the road into the jungle to walk for half an hour to a Hmong village. In the past, the Hmong were notorious opium growers, but have since switched to legal crops. Bei enjoyed the swinging bamboo bridge along the way to the village, which was not pristine, having succumbed to the lure of the tourist dollar offered by people like us trying to catch a packaged look at life among the tribes.
These Hmong boys offered a glimpse of pre-tourism village life as they played a game that involved setting a conical stone spinning by quickly unwinded a long leather cord (much as you would start a lawn mower) and then running back to a line in the dirt from which they hurled other stones in attempts to hit and topple the spinning stone.
Our next stop was at a Karen tribal village, also tainted (economically uplifted?) by the constant stream of Chiang Mai tourists. This woman worked on traditional weaving for our benefit as we traipsed through the small village which consisted of a collection of decrepit wooden huts and a lot of modern trash.
The highlight for Bei, and our primary goal during our stay in Chiang Mai, was the promised elephant ride. Northern Thailand hill tribes have traditionally used elephants as beasts of burden, though their burden now is people like us rather than tropical hardwoods (most logging is outlawed). Bei and I rode this small bull elephant for about 40 minutes through the forest and across a small river, much to Bei's delight. The drivers were friendly to us and kind to their animals, though I do not envy the life of the elephants whose fate is to slog along the same forest circuit each day.
An elephant-riders-eye-view.
Crossing a small river on our way back to the tourist loading dock.
Bei LOVED being on the elephant's back. Along the "trek" were elevated stands where old tribal women sold small bundles of elephant food--bananas and sugar cane--to the tourists atop the elephants. Bei couldn't get enough of feeding our mount. The procedure is to lean as far forward as you can from your platform and gently tap the elephant on his ear with a banana--the signal that food is waiting. In response his trunk snakes backwards as far as he can reach to gently receive the offering, which is then devoured with a loud grinding noise from below.
A trunk seeking sugar cane.
The elephant drivers wore hats folded from leaves. Our driver made one for Bei.
Back in Chiang Mai, food stalls offered mouth watering treats, here displayed on banana leaves in the Thai tradition.
More Chiang Mai food.
We were only in Chiang Mai for a couple of days before heading back to Bangkok to meet Ellen on her return from the U.S. These train station phones reminded me of 50's era cars with their soft curves and retro styling. I happily photographed them while our comfortable sleeper train pulled out of the station on its way south--I had casually read our departure time as 6:30 p.m instead of 1630. So after a longer than anticipated wait at the station I endured a long night on a non-sleeper train to Bangkok (12 hours) while Bei slept comfortably on my lap, dreaming no doubt of floating through the forest on the back of an elephant.
From a window of the new 3-story Starbuck’s I watched the chaotic rush of Thai traffic hurtling along concentric roads that circle the crumbling remains of the old Chiang Mai city wall. Like ancestral beltways, the ring roads were a tangle of cars, trucks, motorcycle taxis and bicycles, with potential conflicts miraculously mediated by honking horns. Less than an hour before, Bei and I had been in that traffic on a rented motor scooter experiencing what I had thought sounded like a fun way to get out of town to see a little of the famous hill country surrounding the city. But acclimating to driving on the left side of the road where you can’t read the signs in serious traffic on an unfamiliar motorbike with a 4-year-old pinched between your knees is neither relaxing nor especially fun (though there were moments of exhilaration).
After a token stop at Wat Jet Yot (a temple) on the outskirts of town (Bei: “Papa! Can we ride some more??!!), where we shared an ice cream and a soda (and a walk), Bei and I headed back into town. I was beginning to feel comfortable on the bike just as we found our way back through the maze of streets to the rental shop near the Midtown Guesthouse where we were staying. On another day, we saw two western women picking themselves up off a road after crashing their motorcycle. Apparently only abraded, and with bike damage limited to cosmetics, they were lucky. I read later that many Westerners meet more serious fates riding rented iron on the twisting back roads of northern Thailand, where blood transfusions might not be the most desirable option (though I think the big city hospitals are good). For one thing, it’s difficult not to revert to instincts cemented by decades of driving on the right side of the road. With harrowing results. Anyway, Bei and I got off easy and I acknowledge a less than insightful parental decision.
Chiang Mai is the second largest city in Thailand but much smaller than Bangkok. Established in the 13th century (according to a web source), it is thick with old temples and remnants of times past. But the biggest draw for most visitors is the famous northern Thai hill country that surrounds the city and is home to ethnic groups, including the Hmong, Karen (a subgroup of whom are the long-necked tribes that use metal rings to push their shoulders down so that their necks appear longer), Lahu, Akha and Yao tribes. My ambition in Chiang Mai was to see some of these tribal villages and to do a little exploring in the hill country, but our time was limited and I had promised Bei that when in Thailand we would ride elephants, an activity that can be had for the price of a day tour. So time for ‘off the beaten path’ exploration didn’t really exist.
In the end, we spent a scripted, touristy (but mildly fun) day taking in made-for-visitors hill country sites and accomplishing an elephant ride and some minor bamboo rafting on a small stream, both to Bei’s delight. And we dinked around the city for half a day (sampling real pastries at the Starbuck’s, for one thing) before heading back south to meet Ellen in Bangkok. Chiang Mai is nicer than Bangkok in some ways (less urban) and with more time one could have some good adventures. Perhaps we will return someday, though the lure of southern Thailand climbing is stronger for me.
Here are some photos from our brief visit...
Pushing the envelope: this crumbling temple, called Wat Jet Yot (which in Thai means "at the edge of the death traffic zone"), was as far as Bei and I got on our rented scooter and I thanked the Buddha that we were halfway through our riding adventure without serious abrasions or loss of life. We sat in the shade eating chips and ice cream and then wandered around the peaceful grounds while Bei lobbied for more traffic adventures and I wrestled with my blood pressure.
Temple architecture at Wat Jet Yot.
What could I tell a monk in a "monk chat"? That I'm a bad dad for taking my 4-year-old daughter on a scooter ride in Chiang Mai traffic? That I won't do it again? That I'm sorry??!!
Temple trees in Thailand are often wrapped in silk to show reverence. At Wat Jet Yot these white-painted, forked sticks were also common and were propped around the huge old trees that provided the only shade for monks and tourists.
Our nod to motorcycle safety. In a high speed collision, at least our heads would have been intact.
A typical temple statue. Often there were long rows of identical stone carvings like these, or collections of people and animals.
On the first stop of our hill country tour, we descended from the road into the jungle to walk for half an hour to a Hmong village. In the past, the Hmong were notorious opium growers, but have since switched to legal crops. Bei enjoyed the swinging bamboo bridge along the way to the village, which was not pristine, having succumbed to the lure of the tourist dollar offered by people like us trying to catch a packaged look at life among the tribes.
These Hmong boys offered a glimpse of pre-tourism village life as they played a game that involved setting a conical stone spinning by quickly unwinded a long leather cord (much as you would start a lawn mower) and then running back to a line in the dirt from which they hurled other stones in attempts to hit and topple the spinning stone.
Our next stop was at a Karen tribal village, also tainted (economically uplifted?) by the constant stream of Chiang Mai tourists. This woman worked on traditional weaving for our benefit as we traipsed through the small village which consisted of a collection of decrepit wooden huts and a lot of modern trash.
The highlight for Bei, and our primary goal during our stay in Chiang Mai, was the promised elephant ride. Northern Thailand hill tribes have traditionally used elephants as beasts of burden, though their burden now is people like us rather than tropical hardwoods (most logging is outlawed). Bei and I rode this small bull elephant for about 40 minutes through the forest and across a small river, much to Bei's delight. The drivers were friendly to us and kind to their animals, though I do not envy the life of the elephants whose fate is to slog along the same forest circuit each day.
An elephant-riders-eye-view.
Crossing a small river on our way back to the tourist loading dock.
Bei LOVED being on the elephant's back. Along the "trek" were elevated stands where old tribal women sold small bundles of elephant food--bananas and sugar cane--to the tourists atop the elephants. Bei couldn't get enough of feeding our mount. The procedure is to lean as far forward as you can from your platform and gently tap the elephant on his ear with a banana--the signal that food is waiting. In response his trunk snakes backwards as far as he can reach to gently receive the offering, which is then devoured with a loud grinding noise from below.
A trunk seeking sugar cane.
The elephant drivers wore hats folded from leaves. Our driver made one for Bei.
Back in Chiang Mai, food stalls offered mouth watering treats, here displayed on banana leaves in the Thai tradition.
More Chiang Mai food.
We were only in Chiang Mai for a couple of days before heading back to Bangkok to meet Ellen on her return from the U.S. These train station phones reminded me of 50's era cars with their soft curves and retro styling. I happily photographed them while our comfortable sleeper train pulled out of the station on its way south--I had casually read our departure time as 6:30 p.m instead of 1630. So after a longer than anticipated wait at the station I endured a long night on a non-sleeper train to Bangkok (12 hours) while Bei slept comfortably on my lap, dreaming no doubt of floating through the forest on the back of an elephant.
posted by Ken, Ellen and Bei | 6:34 PM
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