A Peace of Pai

More than overjoyed to have finally arrived in the small town of Pai, Tommy and I took a good ten minutes of stretching our cramped bodies from the winding, uphill bus ride, before beginning to explore our options of where we might stay. As we began to walk down the street, we could instantly see that the people here were much different than in the towns we had visited prior. Dreadlocks, tie-dye, piercings, instruments from all over the world and much, much more was just the beginning of the unique followings this town held. As we came to a river, we noticed that on the other side, there were tiny huts lining the banks that were almost too quaint to pass up. Crossing a rickety, bamboo bridge, we began exploring which huts suited us best. Coming to a group of huts called “Family Huts” we put our bags down on the bamboo covered floor and headed out to see more of the town.

As we walked down what we thought was the main boulevard, I stopped in my tracks astonished, as I instantly recognized my good friend Mike that I hadn’t seen since we trekked together in Nepal. While this may be a small town, it was still quite shocking to just happen to run into him within the first hour of being there. With a big grin on both our faces, we began catching up and telling him about the shenanigans Tommy and I have been getting into in just the mere week we have been in Thailand.  After sharing a few beers, he then showed us his impressively matchless house and offered for us to stay with him to save a bit of money. Instantly accepting the offer, we moved into the second story, where every crossbeam had a hammock hanging from it to relax or sleep in. Hanging out a bit more with Mike later that night, he began telling us about what we could possibly see or do while we were here in Pai, but he said that most people don’t come to Pai to do things, they come to do a lot of nothing. Unsure what he meant at the time, Tommy and I were determined to see all three of the waterfalls in the surrounding area and maybe even camp again in the jungle.

Waking up the next day, Tommy and I mentioned the "Uh, oh" sound we had heard in Chiang Mai and with a slight laugh, he said that they were simply just lizards doing their thing. Relieved, Tommy and I headed into town with Mike for a bite to eat at his favorite local joint. With everything on the menu costing less than a dollar, Tommy and I were a bit skeptical at first at how good of quality this food might be. Sure enough however, Mike’s recommendation ended up being our regular spot to eat everyday due to how tasty this small, local spot was. After getting some food, Mike parted ways for a bit as Tommy and I began to explore the town on our own, via motorbike. It didn’t take long to circumnavigate the town, and we soon found ourselves in search for the first waterfall just outside of town. Going up a winding road with farms on either side of us, we soon made it to a dirt parking lot with many Tuk Tuks parked as well as rental scooters. Figuring that this was a pretty popular spot for locals as well as tourists, we began hiking into what we thought would be a beautiful waterfall. As we were hiking, we saw that there were all sorts of pipes along the trail, leading out towards the road. A bit bewildered at this, we put it off as a question to ask Mike later on.

After the short hike, we came to a clearing, where we saw a bunch of local, naked children sliding down the slippery rocks into a massive, natural pool. The giggles and cries of enjoyment from the children made the natural water park lively and energetic as both locals and travelers co-mingled among one another. Being the curious type that we are, Tommy and I wanted to find the source of where all of this water was coming from, so we began hiking up stream only to find more pipes, ruining the picturesque landscape before us. Reaching a point where we could go no further, the bundle of pipes also discontinued as the stream pinched through a narrow crevice of boulders. As Tommy and I sat at the top of this water source, analyzing this interesting place of abode, we then laid eyes on a quite interesting ex-pat that was sitting by the stream. Interested, not only in this ex-pat, but also about the pipes, we walked over to him to inquire about our curiosities. With long, salt and peppered hair and a mustache that would put Burt Reynolds to shame, his lengthy, string bean figure crouched by the water as he stroked a small, white puff of a dog that we assumed was his.  As he gazed down at the slippery, natural waterslide below we walked into the stream in front of him and gave him a friendly, “Hi, how you doing?” Un-phased by my presence, he slowly looked up at me and even more slowly stood up to give me a lethargic hand shake and a, “Hey maaan”. With glossy eyes and smile that hadn’t been acquainted with a dentist in years, I knew this guy had escaped from the daily grind of the states long ago and had been living in Pai for quite some time now. After speaking with him for about half an hour, Tommy and I had found out that the pipes were the town’s only source of water, and that the pipes we had seen ran from the falls, all the way back to town to three different water towers, all gravity fed.

Our new friend, John, then showed us some pretty cool local sights that most don’t get to read about in their Lonely Planet’s and internet searches. We ended up spending the entire afternoon with John listening to stories, hanging out, and really getting a feel for what Pai life was all about.

After realizing that it was almost dark, we then left our new found friend and went back into town to hang out with Mike and some of his local buddies. Mike lives in Pai for approximately six months out of the year. The other six months he spends as a personal chef on a yacht, so he is quite well connected with the locals in town and knows his way around quite well. We spent quite a bit of time with Mike as he showed us his way of life here in Pai. Each day we hung out with him, the more and more Tommy and I wanted to move there and live blissfully in this tranquil paradise.

The next day Tommy and I tried to imitate local life in Pai by doing nothing. Sometimes it’s great to just have no agenda and see how the day unfolds. We started off by walking into town, running into new found friends we had met the previous days, talking, eating, hanging out by the river, playing instruments and really just relaxing. In complete contentedness, we managed to spend six days like this, and by the end of the week, we couldn’t walk more than a block without running into someone we knew or someone that was friendly enough to chat with us for a while. We quickly began to see why there were so many foreign locals here living in Pai. It was perfect here; complete beauty in every direction, good people, incredible food, great live music, and a simplistic way of life that had everyone walking around with a smile on their face and a shoulder to lean on. What a great experience to encounter such a unique culture.

To top the week off, Tommy and I decided to visit the elephant camp just up the road from Mike. Arriving to a scene of five, massively beautiful creatures, masticating the trunks of banana trees as if they were cotton candy, Tommy and I just stood in awe of these extraordinary creatures. Walking right up to one of the larger ones, it instantly reached out towards me with its bristly trunk. Grabbing hold, it powerfully pulled me in and gave me a gentle hug against its massive head. Instantly falling in love with these gentle giants, I couldn’t wait to become more familiar with them in the river. With a sharp command from one of the elephant guides, my elephant, (Mimi) lifted a knee for me to step on as she then boosted me up onto her back. Sitting well over then feet off the ground, I instantly had a beaming smile that lasted the rest of the day.

With Tommy then getting hoisted up onto Mimi’s neck, she then effortlessly began strolling towards the river, slowly and methodically. Analyzing this magnificent creature from upon its back, I could see how tough and rugged she really was. With thick, coarse hair growing out of a leathery, wrinkled, light gray skin, stretched over a massively burly body, Mimi hardly noticed the both of us as she casually sauntered towards the much desired river with her tree trunk sized legs. The magnitude of Mimi’s head alone was the size of the front of a car and her playful, curious, ten foot long trunk waved about, grabbing bits of vegetation along the side of the road that she would toss in her mouth.

With the river in sight, it was almost as if Mimi began to get a bit of pep in her step a she eagerly awaited the feeling of the cool water on her dry, cracked skin. As Tommy and I entered the water with her, we were immediately doused with water from the spray of Mimi’s trunk, and before we knew it, we were rolling around with her in the water. It was unbelievable how playful Mimi was, as well as all of the other elephants as they began spraying water all over the place, and submerging themselves, revealing nothing but their snouts. It was easy to see just how much enjoyment these elephants were having as they frolicked about in the water, weightless and free in their watery playground.

Spending well over an hour in the water with Mimi, I felt as though I created a connection with her. Maybe it was because I was overwhelmed at the fact I got to meet an elephant for the first time, but as we played in the water, I gazed into her wise, intelligent eyes, hugged her telephone pole size trunk, and felt as though we bonded that day.

Leaving the elephant park was not easy, but as Tommy and I putted down the road on our scooter, I couldn’t help but hope that the old saying, “An elephant never forgets” was nothing but true. 

The Love of Chiang Rai

After an amazing experience in Pai, with our good buddy Mike, Tommy and I were off to meet yet another mutual friend that lives in Chiang Rai. Our good buddy Dominic Martinez, whom we’ve been friends with since middle school, has an aunt who has been running an orphanage in Chiang Rai for the past twenty years. Eager to Dominic’s Aunt Rose, we convened at the Chiang Rai bus station with high hopes of helping out as much as we could around her orphanage. After meeting and greeting and sharing our story on the car ride back to the orphanage with Rose, she informed us that most of her volunteers stay a minimum of three months so that they can really get to know the kids and form meaningful relationships with them. She also notified us that she does extensive background checks on all of her volunteers to make sure they are there for the right reasons. Tommy and I were a bit surprised at the stringent process most people have to go through in order to help out in these orphanages, but after hearing Rose tell us about a few unfortunate incidences with volunteers, we quickly empathized with the volunteer background check process. Luckily for us, we were friends of the family and were able to do the little bit that she had planned for us without any stipulation.

Arriving at Mercy Ministries orphanage Chiang Rai, we were immediately met by young boys and girls running up to the vehicle. Barely being able to get out of the truck with a boy on each arm and another on my leg, we threw our bags down and got straight to having fun with the kids. Everyone one of them was so much fun to be around and was so eager to practice their English by telling us all about their schooling, sports activities, favorite foods and so much more. Instantly becoming best friends with twenty kids was a bit overwhelming at first, but I soon realized that whatever I was able to give, was the least I could do for these young, animated, unique individuals. Each one of them had such strong personalities and was quite independent, despite the gracious help and love they’re given. One boy in particular, Apa, invited me to go “running” with him each morning at 6am. Not usually at my best this early in the morning, our jogs quickly became saunters and then simply casual walks, as it was hard to breathe with all of the burnings taking place in the hills and on the farms. Apa showed me where he went to school and told me what activities he was involved with, who his teachers were and so forth. The best part of it was just being able to spend some one on one time with him and get to know him a bit.

Unfortunately Tommy became very sick the day we arrived and struggled through a temperature of 102 for nearly two days of us being there. I guess it was a stroke of luck getting to the orphanage when we did, because as Tommy began to slowly deteriorate, matters quickly got worse as he was barely able to stand up. Going through similar symptoms in India for a week, I knew that what he was going through was going to test him mentally and physically. Fortunately there happened to be a nurse visiting from Cambodia that was able to look at Tommy and give a prognosis of signs to look for if he were to get worse. Luckily though he was on the mends after two days, and slowly came back to life and was able to spend some time with the kids.

During the day, one of our projects was to paint the multi-purpose room at the orphanage which was fun to do with the kids, but every night we had movie night, where we would watch a Chinese, Kung Fu, soap opera-type storyline take place. Even though it was dubbed in Thai, and I couldn’t understand a word of it, I still loved just being there with the children, watching their faces light up at every flying high kick and super punch that was soon being imitated by everyone in the room. Getting distracted from the show, the Kung Fu sessions would usually end up going outside, where we would all break out in an epic battle of pretend jump kicks to the chest and flying punches of a thousand fists to the face. Pretend victims would go down in slow motion, just like in the show, making some sort of grandiose sound of defeat as they slowly plummeted towards the field we were playing on.

All tuckered out from battle, the cries of victory soon turned into yawns of exhaustion as it was clearly time for bed. Saying goodnight, giving twenty hugs, high fives, and pretend karate kicks to the children was usually how the night ended. Before hitting the lights each night, I’d make sure Tommy was still breathing before I then fell right to sleep, dog-tired.

One of the days I was at the orphanage, I was fortunate enough to take a ride up to the Golden Triangle of China, Thailand and Laos with Rose. A huge gateway for trade, this is unfortunately also home to one of the largest drug smuggling areas in the world. Despite the regrettable drug smuggling, it was still great to be on the border of three countries, spending time with Rose and some of her colleagues and volunteers. On our way back we were able to stop at another orphanage that Rose is associated with. Similar to the orphanage Tommy and I were staying at, this orphanage was home to some thirty-seven young boys and girls; however this orphanage specialized in very young children and babies as well. Seeing these youngsters was quite heart breaking because unlike the older children, these shy little guys were still trying to grasp why they were there exactly and why they weren’t with their moms. Trying to play ball with a very apprehensive young boy, I could see in his face the confusion and distraught that he was going through. After a little while though, he opened up and I managed to get a smile out of him before we left.

With sunset ending our time at the orphanage all too quickly, we said goodnight to the youngsters and headed back to Rose’s orphanage back in Chiang Rai. The next day we had to leave to Luang Probang to meet yet another friend. Saying goodbye to the kids was by far the hardest thing I’ve had to do on this trip so far. I wish I could have stayed another week, or another month for that matter. Watching their little smiling faces and waving hands as they chased after the car was an image I’ll never forget and a memory I will always cherish. 

Chiang Mai Pt. 3

Waking up the morning after our crazy scooter ride, Tommy and I both looked at each other as if we had both shared the same nightmare; wondering if our unanticipated adventure had been some sort of figment of our imaginations. Realizing that it was all very real, we packed our day packs once again, this time full of everything we might need to spend the night in the wilderness and headed back out to see the wonders of Chiang Mai.

Determined to spend the night out in the hills of Chiang Mai, this time more prepared, we were resolute about finding the perfect place to camp for the night. We were thinking somewhere near a waterfall or maybe a river, or possibly just deep in the forest, away from any sort of civilization. Our first stop was at an incredible waterfall that Tommy and I hiked to the top of. Once up there, we decided that this place was a bit too touristy for us and might be a bit hard to camp at with so much going on around us. After spending a good amount of time exploring the area, we decided to move onto the next waterfall.

We had heard this next one was a bit hard to find, and as we began winding through various small villages we soon realized that this might be way more difficult to find than we thought. Learning from our mistakes the night before, we said that we would only go as far as half a tank would get us so that wherever we ended up, we would unquestionably be able to get back to a gas station or at least a village that could help us. So, as we continued on, winding through dirt roads, playing charades with the locals, trying to communicate to try and find the waterfall, we soon found ourselves going up very steep hills, pushing our motorbikes to the limits as we ascended up into the high hills of Chiang Mai.

Coming to a plateau on the top of one of the local Chiang Mai mountains, we found an open area, perfect for a small campsite if we couldn’t find this waterfall within the next half hour or so. Pressing on a bit further, we headed downhill determined to find this hidden gem of a waterfall. Coming to a river crossing where we thought that we could for sure continue upstream to find the falls, with the sunlight rapidly diminishing, Tommy and I continued on, hopes high on finding our watery haven to camp at. Unfortunately however, we came to a dead end where it was impossible to go any further. A bit dejected, we turned around in the mere dusk that barely lingered, lighting our path just enough to make out the boulders, rocks, fallen trees and streams that we came across in the road. Ascending once again, up to the top of the mountain, we barely made it back in time to set up our parachute hammocks from tree to tree and get a fire going. While setting up the rest of camp, we realized that we had a perfect view of all Chiang Mai down in the valley. The lights from the different hotels and streets signs were perfectly distinguishable from our perch, high above the city. Seeing Chiang Mai in this new light, or dark per say, was beautiful as we soon realized how big the city really was.

Sitting next to our campfire, Tommy and I were excited to have a bit of wind blow through the hills, clearing out the smoke from the burning crop fields and forests. For the first time, we were able to see the brilliant Thai stars, glowing brightly in the night sky. It was so peaceful up on that hill, so contrary to the busy city below. It really made us appreciate the unanticipated campsite we finally settled on and even more so appreciate being prepared this time for the Thai wilderness.

As it began to get a bit late, Tommy and I decided to douse our fire and retire for the night, being that we had a busy day of travel to a much anticipated town called Pai, to visit my good friend that I trekked to Mount Everest Base camp with.

Hopping in our hammocks, throwing our mosquito nets over the top of us, we enjoyed the tranquil sounds of the rustling trees, blowing in the wind. And as Tommy and I were just about to fall asleep, we all the sudden heard a loud, high pitched “UH OH” sound coming from the forest. A bit groggy, I asked Tommy if something was wrong. He then said, “I was just about to ask you the same, didn’t you just say uh oh?” With my heart rate instantly increasing, I peered out over the sides of my hammock, into the pitch black forest. As soon as I did, it happened again, “UH OH”. Something or someone was out there. It was some sort of wail or possibly some sort of call. “Was it human?” thinking to myself that there was some sort of indigenous tribe out here in the Thai hills, doing some sort of tribal call to one another to signal intruders. With my heart about to jump out of my chest, I told Tommy to grab his flashlight and shine it out into the woods. With a shaky hand, the beam of light scribbled across the shrubs and trees, yielding no sign of life anywhere. I almost half expected some sort of alien creature to come out of the brush and make that queer uh, oh sound again, but after a few minutes the sound seemed to cease and Tommy and I began to relax a bit, thinking that whatever it was, it had moved on.

Waking up the next morning, we watched an incredible sunrise stretch across the Chiang Mai valley, lighting up the hills and forest all around us. The crisp air was refreshing as we hopped back on our motorbikes and headed back into town. Still a bit perturbed at what that sound was the night before, we told our guesthouse owner what had happened in the middle of the night to hopefully be enlightened on what could have possibly made such an eerie sound. With a slight chuckle he didn’t really know what we were talking about and said we must have just been hearing things, but Tommy and both knew that there was something out there and that it wasn’t small.

Booking our bus that day to Pai, we packed up all of our things and hopped in a minibus up to this so called “hippie town”. As we stopped by guesthouse after guesthouse, our minibus soon turned into a clown-car as it soon became packed to the ceiling with luggage and bodies. As we started up the famous road of a thousand turns, with Tommy and I crammed in the very back of the minibus, we both laughed at yet another awkward travel experience and wondered what adventures this next town might bring.  

Crazy Scooter - Chiang Mai Pt. 2

Ascending back up a very large mountain in a direction we were unfamiliar with, Tommy and I began to worry as the sun was now a reddish color among the grey, smoky sky, meaning we had about thirty minutes of sunlight left. Believe it or not, riding a motorcycle in a foreign country at night was not the biggest worry on our mind; what we were now worried about was if we were going to be able to make it to a gas station in time. With both of us on empty, we finally reached the summit and were forced to shut our engines off and coast down the winding road. Cruising down the mountain, we would often hit straight a ways where we were forced to come out of our streamline crouched position to then begin running alongside our bikes to reach the next descending corner. This carried on for about an hour, down further and further until we finally reached a village where we looked at the map one last time before we lost all sunlight. Unfortunately this village did not have a gas station, but after a bit more charades and hand motions with the locals, we figured it was about fifteen kilometers further and we might have hope on finding one in an actual town.

 On we went, sparing as little gas as we could on now a pitch black forest road, praying that we would reach a gas station in time. Riding on fumes, we barely putted our way into a small town. Never to have been more happy to see a gas station, we pulled in and filled up our tanks with smiles on our faces, knowing that we had about three hours more of riding time before we had to even begin worrying about filling up again. More than enough gas to get us the rest of the way home, we both thought. Unfortunately that thought was far beyond optimistic and became borderline comical mixed with a bit of anger when we found out how lost we actually were.

We couldn’t have gone a worse direction. Not only were we twice as far away as we originally were, we now had locals telling us that we wouldn’t be able to make it back that night due to the unregulated fires that burn throughout the forest. In total dismay, Tommy and I looked at each other and began contemplating our two pitiful options: We could stay in this Podunk town and wait till morning to figure out getting back to Chiang Mai (most reasonable option); or we could chance getting even more lost by trying to retrace our steps in a dark national forest, which just happens to be on fire (most terrible option).

Well, of course we went with the second option and boy did we regret it. Heading back up the winding roads, which we soon found out was an express way at night time for local transporters. Now if you’re optimistic, you’d think, “Well at least there are people around”, but if you’re a realist, you would realize that when you’re on a little scooter with giant, overloaded trucks barreling down a one lane road, in the middle of the night, that this situation might actually be slightly less than great. Getting back to the ranger station that originally pointed us in the wrong direction, we refrained from confronting the guy about the issue and continued on our way in what we thought was the right direction.

Arriving at a crossroad, and the first street light we had seen in half an hour, we pulled out the map to see where we were. After deciding that this squiggly line would take us to that squiggly line and then onto that thicker line, we turned down the road with the street light and began heading through the hillsides. Now, we could tell they were hillsides for two very odd reasons. The first was because of the large flames that were scattered about, hundreds of feet above us and below us. Luckily the closest we got to any danger of the fires was a smoldering tree by the road, or a small dry bush that was fizzling out.

The second, and probably the only good thing that came out of this night ride through Doi Inthanon national park, was seeing the amazing night agriculture that took place along the hillsides that weren’t burning to the ground. Rows and rows and rows of these tube-like structures covered the produce and were lit up with bright white lights. It looked like something right out of a Sci-Fi movie. This went on for kilometers and kilometers as we pressed on through the night, up and down roads that were bumpy and jagged and demanded caution around every turn. With the lit up tubes now long gone, and even the forest fires nowhere to be seen, we knew we were way out there, somewhere in the hills of Northern Thailand. As the blackness continued to grow, we almost hoped for another burning bush or even another large, reckless truck to swerve around the corner. We just wanted to see something, anything that was familiar to us out here in the middle of nowhere.

Luckily we had each other for support, because that was literally all we had until finally spotting a sign in the distance. Excited to see what it read, I raced ahead to get a glimpse of what it might say or where it might take us. To my utter disappointment, the sign was in Thai. Of course it was. What tourist would have wondered off this far? What need was there to put a sign in English when you’re hundreds of kilometers away from anywhere an English speaker should be? It’s alright, the sign probably read, “Ya, you’re really lost” anyways.

To make matters worse, looking back I could see that Tommy was struggling on his bike as he approached. A bit angry that I had raced ahead, he showed me that he had a flat tire. This night just got a whole lot worse: A flat tire, less than half a tank of gas, in the middle of the night, in a forest that we couldn’t be more lost in and happens to be on fire. With Tommy hugging his handlebars, trying to put as little weight on his back, flat tire as possible, we putted down what little road there was to drive on in a direction we didn’t even know was correct. Stopping at yet another crossroad, there stood the ominous single road light that beaconed the chance at becoming even more lost in this gloomy forest. With no street sign to have us even begin to try and decipher the squiggly Thai lines, we simply pointed one way and continued on. Hours went by with nothing more than a few unreadable signs until we finally reached a small village that happened to have a hospital. Thank God neither of us were injured, and actually needed medical assistance. Even more luckily, there happened to be someone that spoke decent enough English to communicate where we were and how much further we needed to go. Continuing on, we got maybe twenty minutes out of town, when all of the sudden flashing red and blue lights came barreling towards us. Pulling as far over as we could, the car raced by us, only to come to a screeching halt as it began reversing towards us quickly. Perfect, now we probably violated some Thai law and got reported and were about to get arrested. As the car came closer, we realized that it wasn’t a car at all. It was a police truck. A bit confused and scared, Tommy and I took a step closer to one another readying ourselves for what was about to happen next.

Two “officers” approached us wearing somewhat of a uniform and shouted “Hey, you lost American yah?” in a tone that clearly eluded to how we were the only ones dense enough to get into a situation this bad. “Uh, yah that would be us” I said with a bit of skepticism. What better opportunity to take advantage of us then right now in this moment, dressed up like cops driving a flatbed truck, just waiting for us to hand them the keys to our bikes to take us back to their “police station”.  The “officers” then proceeded to tell us that they had gotten a phone call from a hospital saying that there were two American guys out on the road with a flat tire.

With this first sign of legitimacy, we asked them a few more questions before finally letting them load up only Tommy’s bike onto the truck. Following behind them back to the police station, it seemed as though Tommy and I were more so chasing after them, going well over eighty kilometers an hour trying to keep up. Finally arriving back into an actual city though, we began to see street signs in English and eventually we found ourselves at the police station as promised.

It was well after two in the morning, as the police began to question why we as far out into the forest as we were. We really didn’t have a good answer, and I think they let us go without too much more questioning out of pity. Leaving Tommy’s scooter at the police station for the motorbike company to pick up in the morning, Tommy and I hopped on my tiny scooter, strapped on our helmets like scene straight out of a “Dumb and Dumber” movie, and headed back to our guesthouse.  As we began heading down the now slightly empty road, we couldn’t help but break out in laughter and relief thinking we did it. We had just created our first crazy lifelong memory in Thailand.