No, we’re not dead. I’m sure you’ve all been glued to your computer screens, awaiting the next episode from us and wondering why we’ve been silent for the last few days. Well, this e-mail will bring you up to date.
We arrived in Chiang Mai three days ago and checked into the Chiang Mai Garden Guesthouse, a sober little affair with no air-conditioning and a freezing cold shower (not to mention the traditional Thai-style toilet, which requires one to crouch in a position simply unattainable for any fat-thighed, heavy-arsed Westerner such as I).
The next day, we set off on a trek into the rain forest about 80 km north of Chiang Mai. There we would remain for three days.
On the first day, we hiked to a waterfall, had lunch and then headed deeper into the forest until we reached a village consisting of a few straw and bamboo huts, home to the Karen hill-tribe people. These people speak no English whatsoever; in fact, they don’t even speak Thai.
The facilities were best described as basic. We slept on the floor of one of their huts under some flea-bitten blankets. The cold kept me awake (remember that this was up in the hills and that we are already in the north of the country) and when I finally did get to sleep, the cocks started crowing way before dawn had arrived and woke us up again. The less said about the toilet, the better, but I was brave enough to endure a freezing cold shower in the morning at the standing tap in the village.
Incidentally, it’s amazing how quickly you get tired when in a village with no electricity. The tribespeople all go to bed when the sun goes down and rise again at the crack of dawnn.
The next day, we trekked further into the forest until we reached an elephant camp, where we rode elephants downstream for a couple of hours. We finally arrived in a village populated by the Lahoe tribe. Again, they spoke no English or Thai; just their own tribal language. And again, the facilities were very basic and there was no electricity.
These people originated in Myanmar (Burma). What I think was the Burmese flag was hung across the doorway of their chicken coup. In fact, while trekking over the hills, the border with Myanmar could be observed in the distance. Many of these people used to grow opium (this is the infamous Golden Triangle area), but the government has started to crack down on their habit. We were told by our guide and interpreter that they are no longer allowed to grow opium or murder tourists. Hmm…
These people live at a lower elevation, so it wasn’t as cold on the bamboo floor of their huts, but the blankets were not the cleanest and the many dogs in the village were infested with fleas. Nevertheless, the food was great and we slept well, although there was no water to shower with, so we just had to grin and bare it (which actually isn’t that hard when the alternative is a dip in a murky brown river full of elephant turds the size of cannonballs).
Today, we left the Lahoe village and boarded a bamboo raft with our guide, and headed downstream for the end of our trek. This turned out to be quite the hair-raising experience, as it didn’t quite go according to plan.
To cut a long story short, we hit rocks and our guide was thrown into the river. He swam to the shore and ran back along the river bank, before jumping into the river again and allowing himself to be carried downstream to where we were helplessly hanging onto some bushes overhanging the river.
Somewhat bruised and cut, we eventually arrived at our destination, rather more thrilled than we’d expected to be. We went looking for an adventurous trek and certainly got it!
It’s around midnight now and we’re back in Chiang Mai. I could not have imagined that the cold shower of the Garden Guesthouse could feel as good as it did this afternoon, after three days without the kind of facilities we in the west are used to.
Tomorrow morning, we’ll be up again at 06:00 to collect our laundry and make our way down to the bus station, where we’ll catch a bus to Chiang Khong, which lies right on the border with Laos. We expect to cross the border into Laos by ferry and spend the night in Huay Xai.
We’re extremely unlikely to be able to send e-mail over the next few days, as Laos is very undeveloped. We expect to be without electricity for the next few days, as we take a slow-boat down the Mekong River, passing through Pak Beng until we reach the relative civilization of Luang Prabang. Expect to hear nothing more from us for several days. In fact, I’m not even sure whether we’ll be able to send e-mail from Luang Prabang, but we’ll try.
As a last interesting anecdote, we heard today that a guy we ran into upon arrival at Chiang Mai train station and who directed us to the Garden Guesthouse, turned out to be a good friend of our guide during our trek and was shot dead while serving as the guide to a bunch of trekkers out hiking close to the Myanmar border. They apparently encountered a bunch of rebels (or something like that) and he was not diplomatic in his choice of words when dealing with them, so they shot him dead on the spot, sending his panicking group of tourists scattering into the jungle. God only knows how they all made it back out without him.
Anyway, we’re not going any closer to Myanmar than we’ve already been, so not to worry.
We’ll write again when able.