We just finished catching up the blog on days 1-8, so days 9 and 10 will be somewhat short (I've been writing for a long time now, and am tired and hungry...).
E: I have forgotten to mention it, but after not running for the first 6 days of the trip, I've started again. I've been going between 6:30-8, and I've found it's a great way to see parts of the town and countryside I wouldn't have seen anyway. This morning I was awakened by a thousand roosters and went out before 7:00am.
It was amazing. I was out on dirt country roads, passed more chickens than I can count, encountered a herd of water buffalo and spooked the little one (after which I apologized to the herder and took off back whence I came), and was greeted by every person I saw. The people in Chiang Dao are so happy and friendly it's hard to believe they aren't all conspiring about something, like how to sell me a time-share in a Chang Dao resort.
After a night of [freezing-cold] mountain air and a big breakfast, we were feeling refreshed and energized so we decided to walk to the caves and a temple on the mountain. All told, we probably walked 10-12 miles today. Anyway, both were nice, but details aren't really necessary.
Carrie: Well, I'll fill in the details. The walk went through the plains. Everything is very green now, but alas, no rice. This is their winter season and corn is knee high in the fields. There were opportunities for pictures at almost every bend. People in wide hats and long clothes were in everyfield. We passed water buffalo in people's yards, and were passed by at least twenty motorcycles going unsafe speeds.
The story goes that a hermit spent out his life in the Chiang Dao caves. They are quite extensive, but Eric and I opted for the short, self-led tour instead of the longer pricy one. You could feel the temperature drop as you went in, but the humidity stayed high.
In most of these temples the Buddah images are covered in small squares of gold leaf. As I understand it people will pay for as many squares as they can afford and as everyone adds a square of their own, the image eventurally is covered.
In the cave there was a reclining Buddah at floor level and (I want to say they were Italian) a small boy and his sister were able to get one of the squares to stick to their fingers which delighted them and horrified their mother. She looked over at us and shook her head toward them. People really are the same everywhere. So the mom made them stick it back on, and they placed two small bits where the eyes would go. Buddah then had these glowing gold eyes in the darkness. It was a neat moment to share.
On the hill outside this cave there, hidden in the foliage, were random statues and memorials. It was a bit startling to suddenly notice one that was quite close to you. There was also a small market where the villagers sell vegetables back and forth among each other. We saw the coolest stand. Stacked in rows were small baskets of roots labeled with what they fixed. Such as "Indication: lucky" or "Indication: shines and fast growing hair" or "Indication: Cure indigestion and bunions."
Eric and I were trying to mime with the shop owner to see if the were meant to be planted or eaten or made into tea to get the effects. The old lady thought it was pretty funny that one might plant the roots. And Eric and I tried to get her to recommend one for us. Comical.
On our way back, two events were noteworthy:
There is a small town between the caves and our guesthouse. While walking through, every single child ran out into the street to greet us. Almost all knew "hello," and almost none knew more English than that (except one who said "hellowhatsyourname," but didn't seem to understand our replies of "Carrie" and "Eric," despite our best attempts to sign what we meant).
Although the adults weren't running out into the street to greet us, every one with whom we made eye contact was quick with a hello or "sawat-dee khrap" for male speakers or "sawat-dee kaa" for female speakers (Thai is odd in that they modify their pronouns based on the gender of the speaker and not the referent). But the more significant experience was reserved until we were about 100 yards away from the guesthouse:
As we were rounding the corner to the guesthouse, we heard a loud "hello," followed by a man holding a glass aloft and yelling "come, come." Earlier in the day, we had an opportunity to strike up a conversation with a gregarious Thai man and didn't, and we were feeling like we missed an opportunity. So when this man called from his front porch/driveway, we jumped on the opportunity.
As we walked up, Ek (Pronounced like a combination of egg and ek. Christopher told us later that Thais commonly use nicknames, and that Ek means one or first, denoting that Ek is the first born of his family, not his formal name.) pulled up two chairs and we sat at the table. Before we even introduced ourselves, he had called for each of us to be brought a bowl of tom yam soup, and I had a glass of whisky-tonic and Carrie had a Pepsi. Our glasses never got below half-full.
After a lot of conversation about where we had been, where we were going, and what we thought of Chiang Dao, Ek introduced his friends and family sitting around the table. Ek is an engineer for Thailand's equivalent of the department of transportation, working on roads. The 4 other men sitting at the table are higher-ups in the army (and we got the impression that they were very high up). He strikes us as the happiest person alive. While we were there, he took us around to the back of his house where he keeps bees. We asked if he sells the honey, or eats it himself. He just shrugged and said that they make him happy, so he keeps them.
At several points in the conversation, he looked us straight in the eyes and said "you are my friends" while holding his hand over his heart. Both Carrie and I agreed that the only time we've heard words of affection that sincere are when our families have told us that they loved us (and, of course, when we've said the same :) ). In fact, when we left, Ek's wife whose name I can't pronounce told Carrie that she loved her! Ek told us that whenever we are in Thailand, we should stay at his house. He didn't offer it for money, but, as he said, "from here" while he patted his chest over his heart.
Also, before we left, they gave Carrie and I pendants containing Buddha carvings to wear around our necks, and a wrapped Christmas present! We're waiting for Christmas morning to open it, so we'll have a Christmas after all.
It is good, very good, knowing that people like Ek exist in this world.
