I have been cultivating a serious appreciation for life since arriving here.
From the start, everyone emphasized getting the hell out of Bangkok as quickly as possible. I didn't, and the soupy smoggy mess of that urban monster turned into something intoxicatingly profound. After days of Wat-watching (wat=temple) and nights of farang foolishness (farang=foreigner), including some interesting lessons into just how assertive women can be when they are actually men, Peter eventually slapped me out of my slackjawed daze and we made our decision to leave (with the promise of returning, I am not done with that city yet). Unfortunately we didn't have any inclination as to which direction we wished to travel. Our collective indifference compounded and we found ourselves at his guesthouse drinking iced coffee and eating redbull-doused mueslix, unable to decide whether to go north into the mountains, or south towards the beaches. We flipped a coin, and heads it was, so northward on a 14 hour sleeper train we went.
While discussing Art and opportunity between cars that night we met a thirtysomething Dutch couple who could barely stand each other's company. Peter and I proved to be an ideal catalyst for them to enjoy their trip, so they latched onto us and ended up being crudely hilarious companions for the next few days. Off the Train in Chaing Mai in the morning, and onto a packed orange bus filled with an equal share of backpackers and chicken-laden Thais. This was, for all intensive purposes, the first time I saw Thailand on its own terms. Thick jungle saturated with deep greens covering every inch of raw steep mountains. Ferns, banana trees and some of the oddest writhing and twisting foliage I have ever seen. These lush hillsides broke into terraced farmland with thatched huts and huge rice-paddies. Our bus climbed and climbed for three hours around sharp curves, until we descended into a river-filled valley and into the town of Pai.
Pai and its surrounding area is absolutely awful. Really, every day and night has subsequently filled me with awe. I am renting a bungalow for 100 baht per night. It is on a rice paddy, and every morning I wake up to thai farmers, the mountains, and the clouds. Somehow Pai is perfectly situated in this valley so that it is always sunny. Somehow the clouds avoid it, no matter what, and skirt just around the edges of this little town. And the clouds. Towering olympian thunderheads constantly rolling across the valley. I never used the word majesty to describe anything serious until I saw these clouds. Awe. Consistent awe.
So yes, the next day we rented motorbikes, and I myself shared with Peter as we buzzed up those huge mountains and to the top of this ridge where we stopped and met some hill tribe women peddling handmade goods. Pete and I bargained for two beautiful reversible elephant-embroidered jackets, one red and one blue. The Dutch convinced me to buy one. Now we look like two dueling superhero shamans when we wear them out. Either that or two tremendously pretentious farang.
We learned a few things up there on that mountain pass. We learned that people giggled when Pete called me Toby. We also learned that "Toby", in the language of the Lisu hill tribe, means something very very private to a lady. Please, never again ask me why I prefer Tobias.
So, down the opposite side of the mountain, and through a dusty village off the main road, past a group of happy waving kids planting a veritable forest of saplings, and to the coffin cave. For those of you that have read pete's email about his experience there, well, there is absolutely NO hyperbole in it. Vast beyond vast. A huge limestone mountain, with a river that had a few million years to chew through it. All the way through it, with many many sidetracks along the way. Fifty meter walls of stalagmites, bottomless sinkholes, bats, coffins, and more fish per square foot than an overstocked aquarium. I have never, ever seen nature do anything like this. Honestly, last week I was living in northern California, now I am living out of the pages of National Geographic. We sat on a bamboo raft and were paddled through the gaping maw of this enormous cavern, an oil lamp and flashlights barely revealing the ceiling. And it kept going, and going, and going. We saw three different caverns, all ridiculously vast, teeming with bats, over three hours. They told us that was just a fraction of it. Prehistoric cave paintings, ancient coffins, and a 30 foot stalagmite that looked exactly like the image of Buddha.
I am still thoroughly overwhelmed by this place. I must end this missive, but there is still SO much I need to say. I'll summarize in 5 words, for my next dispatch. Hotsprings, Elephant, Waterfall, Motorcycle Accident.
In addition: "Ouch."
I suppose one deserves a little adversity in paradise.