Dust in the Wind: You're my boy Blue

In a recent post discussing the Backpacking culture I am currently living in, I mentioned the word “Transient.” Today I’d like to expand on the concept of transience in my life, if only for my sake. I’ll try to keep it to a readable length.

Living in this hostel, new people come and go on a daily basis. Everybody is on a different schedule, some stay longer than others, but everyone is coming from somewhere and going somewhere else. It’s part of what makes living here so awesome and interesting. I meet tons of people from tons of different places. But the impermanence of the relationships I make is getting to be a bit of a bummer. I have made very good friends with an English guy named Jack, who regular readers will recognize from previous posts. Jack got here a few days after me, and for the past 5 weeks or so we’ve done pretty much everything together, aside from my job-search exploits. He became part of Chiang Mai for me; we frequent the same spots together, hang out with the same people, we even had created daily routines, as difficult as that is when not employed or on any type of schedule. Jack left a couple of days ago, heading to Laos, as it was time for him to get back on the traveling circuit. It was a sad day for me; I’d underestimated how much I would miss him when he left, and I was clearly a bit more attached than I’d realized. Jack is one of the first in a long chain of friends here at the hostel that has extended from when first got here until now; I’ve always had a “crew” of sorts, a standard group of people that I have done things with. This crew has changed and evolved as people come and go, but I’ve always had some group that I hang out with regularly, my homies. My last homey is leaving today, and it is a bit of a sad thing. It is the last “goodbye” in a long line of goodbyes, and the transience is starting to wear on me.

The transience of the backpacking world though is merely a model of the transient nature of life itself; we’re here living for only a short time, some stay longer than others, but moving on to the next destination is natural and inevitable. Some see the sights, some try to make a positive impact on their temporary home, some just party the days away, but no one lives forever.

I recently had a heavy reminder of this fact. About 3 weeks ago, my grandmother passed away. Her death was not necessarily unexpected, as she has been in poor health for some time, but seeing it coming doesn’t make it any easier. There are a lot of different emotions involved in the death of a loved one, but the question I keep coming back to is: why is it so hard? The emotions surrounding death are universally understood to be painful. But we all know it is going to happen, regardless. Why, in a world of impermanence, do we insist on attachment? What masochistic part of human instinct requires us to become so connected to people, places, things, when our eventual separation is not a question of if, but rather when?

I don’t have answers to these questions. Not to say that the answers don’t exist, I just don’t have them. However, no matter why we are made to endure this, I do believe one thing: it’s worth it. Our attachment is the product of what makes life incredible. These tightly-woven relationships, these places we grow to love, these are the things we live for. Every chance to love something is a chance to live, and the knowledge that one day you will be separated from that which you love is no justification for not loving in the first place.

So the lesson I’ve learned and we’ve all heard: love as much as you can, and take nothing for granted, because tomorrow it could be gone. Life is a gift, Love is a gift, and I plan to experience both as often as possible.

Thanks for reading, see you again when I do/think something I consider interesting enough to bore you with!

And this seems as appropriate a time as any to use the tag line my father suggested last week:

Living Life between Eternities,

Ian

The Waterpocalypse; It's a New Year afterall

Last week, the entire country of Thailand was engaged in what I would consider to be the most outrageous tradition I have ever had the pleasure of being involved in: Songkran.

Songkran is the celebration of the Thai New Year.  But “celebration” is probably too docile of a word to describe it. I’d say “good-natured riot” is a bit more accurate. Whereas we in The States have one night of wild partying and New Year’s excitement, Songkran lasts 3 days. Technically. In reality, it lasts 5, especially in Chiang Mai. The official dates of Songkran are April 13-15, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of last week. People started celebrating on Sunday.

What Songkran essentially consists of is a 5-day nationwide water fight. The whole thing is somehow derived from a Buddhist tradition of purifying others with water as a symbol of good luck in the new year, but I think few people actually have that intention in mind when it’s all going on. During Songkran, people go around and spray, splash, or soak anyone and everyone they see from sunrise to sundown. People roam the streets on foot, ride around in the back of pickup trucks, or just stand on the side of the road with super-soakers, buckets, or hoses, dousing whoever dares come near.  It is literally impossible to leave your home for any period of time without getting wet, no matter who you are or where you’re going. Basically, it is a 10-year old boy’s dream come true. And I loved it.

As I mentioned, here in Chiang Mai the festivities are particularly ridiculous and long-lasting. Starting on Sunday, tourists, both Thai and foreign, began pouring into the city. My hostel was fully booked every night from Saturday the 9^th until Saturday the 16^th. The festivities really began in earnest on Monday, and in order to help you get a picture of what it was like, I should explain a bit about how the city is laid out: in the center of Chiang Mai lies the “Old City.” This is what you might consider the “downtown” area, and the most popular place for tourists to stay and explore. Observe this map:

The square-shaped Old City is surrounded on all sides by an old wall and a moat. On either side of the moat are one-way roads that go around the perimeter of the city. During Songkran, these roads are packed full of pickup trucks, which are packed full of people. And water. People have barrels, trashcans, and any other large receptacle they can fill with water, and they just drive around throwing it at passersby, other pickup truck passengers, and people just standing on the street. To make matters even crazier, you can buy large blocks of ice on the side of the road to put in your bucket of water. There is nothing quite as shocking as being hit from behind with a bucket of ice-cold water, and nothing quite as sadistically rewarding as being the one who is throwing it.

Where does all the water come from you ask? Anywhere. There are all sorts of public and private water stations, some of which you have to pay a small fee to use, but you will never have difficulty finding some. One of the most popular and inexpensive water sources for the general public is the moat itself. If you think using a public, unregulated body of run-off water with various creatures possibly living in it sounds a bit unsanitary, you’d be correct. But we ain’t Moneybags McWealthington over here, and you can’t argue with something that’s free! However, there is no denying that the moat water is not the cleanest, and one of my friends here got a pretty substantial rash as a result of spending the whole day being drenched by it, which apparently is a fairly common result of Songkran in Chiang Mai.

The whole week was fantastic, though it was slightly marred by a rainy day on Wednesday, as it made it too cold to enjoy getting out and getting soaked. The best day for my friends and I was definitely Friday, as my Thai friends from Bangkok where in Chiang Mai for the festivities. It was great seeing them, and to make matters even better, my friend drives a pickup truck. So 7 of my friends and I piled in to the truck bed with 2 trashcans full of ice water, and wreaked havoc on the streets of Chiang Mai, stopping frequently to refill with moat water.  

My one regret is that I did not get more pictures of this insanity. As I said, going out in public and staying dry are absolutely mutually exclusive, so it is not a very camera-friendly environment. I did manage to get a few pix from the passenger seat of my friends truck, so hopefully they will give you some clue as to the nature of the insanity that was my life for 5 fantastic days.

 SongJam: Songkran-related traffic jam

 Spraying water from the balcony. Coward.

 In the face!!

So in conclusion, I believe we should petition Congress to make Songkran an official National Holiday. It would also make the perfect college spring break. Just sayin.

Until next time, thanks for caring, more posts coming soon. Stay tuned.

The Backpacker: World-Wide Nomad

So far I’ve been talking a lot about experiences I’ve had, stories of my travels so to speak, so I wanted to get a bit more into observations I’ve made, aspects of my life abroad. Living at a hostel in a popular travel destination, I meet a lot of backpackers; in case you’re unfamiliar with the concept, a backpacker is someone who travels for an extended period of time with nothing but what they can fit in one big ass backpack and whatever amount of money it is they have to fund their adventures. If you’ll indulge me, I want to talk just a bit about what I’ve be able to see and learn while living in this culture.

Backpacking is obviously not an obscure pastime. We have all heard about “backpacking across Europe,” though few of us have actually done it. By “us” I mean Americans. Nobody ever takes holidays for longer than 2-3 weeks. Any more is shocking, worthy of a going away party and a teary goodbye. In so many other places in the world, going abroad to travel, not just for 4 weeks, but 4 months (or 5 or 6 or 12…) is a common occurrence.

These people, some as young as 18, most in their 20s, go from country to country, explore the insane number of places and things there are to see abroad. Most of these people are European, which means they’ve seen Europe by now. They go to Asia, they go to Oceana, they go to South America, some even go to the states (and they realize a shocking number of us don’t even have passports..) Some get jobs along the way, working to save enough money to continue traveling, and some just have plenty of money already. They go for part of a gap year between highschool and university, they go for summer breaks, they go after graduating from university, just generally some time when they’re not tied down.

Lots of people travel for different reasons. Some people seem to just want to see how many different countries they can get drunk in, and they bring their party with them everywhere they go (whether the locals like it or not). Some just want to get away from their parents for a while, see what other things the world has to offer, see what other people the world has to offer.

Everybody has a reason though, some more impressive than others, but all part of what make up this crazy culture. I made good friends with a girl named Beth (not a replacement RCF, just another person named Beth) from Portland, one of the few Americans I’ve met in Thailand. She is 26, and an architect by trade. Normal recession time story: got laid off because the company couldn’t afford to keep her on because it wasn’t getting enough business. Rather than getting bogged down in a soul-crushing confidence-shattering job search for a job that may not even exist at the moment, she took the opportunity to be free, get out and see what there is to see while she has the time. As of May she’ll have been traveling for 1 year. That’s a long time to live without your own bed. But it’s an experience that most will never get/take the opportunity to do, and it has changed her life.

One of my best friends here, Jack from Hertfordshire, England, has gone a bit further. He’s sold nearly all his things from home, and come abroad looking to start a new life altogether. He’s going from country to country, scoping things out and finding out where he would like to live in the near future, even if just for a year at a time, maybe even less. Wherever he does settle down for a while, he wants to be able to surf there, but he’s willing to consider anything. He has the entire world to choose from. He’s the definition of a “free spirit”, as lame as that term sounds.

I’ve also spent a lot of time hanging out with a guy named James from Peterborough, England, whom I have since dubbed “Jimbo Slice”. Jimbo is a mildly dorky dude, but you can’t really tell due to his accent and his quick dry British wit. He’s just recently begun his journey which he plans to continue for at least a year, with tickets already booked all across Asia, the South Pacific, Australia, and the US. He’s just the sweetest bro you’ll ever meet, couldn’t hurt a fly. Jimbo’s father just died not too long ago; he fell from a ladder at work and broke a rib, puncturing his lung. This puncture poisoned his pancreas, and after a life of smoking, his other lung was not strong enough to make up for the loss of the other. He lasted for a while, but eventually his body simply couldn’t keep up. This would be devastating for anyone, but Jimbo is also epileptic, and his seizures are often brought on by stress. His father’s death came shortly before the end of the school semester, right before finals, and the medication can only do so much. I talked to one of his best University friends, and he said the paramedics where frequently at their house around this time; Jimbo was having a seizure on the front porch, Jimbo had seized in the shower and hit his head on the wall, on and on. He also talked about how the first 2 years of college, Jimbo almost never talked, even to his friends. He would just sort of hang out, watch. Now he’s meeting new people, he’s a confident young dude, self-affirmed and out in the world. He wants to meet people, he wants to make up for lost time, he wants to live life while he still can.

 Beth, Jimbo Jones, Jackery

Everybody is looking for something. Something different, something life changing, something like peace. The best ones aren’t just looking with their eyes, their looking with their hearts and their souls. They’re not just taking pictures and getting fucked up, they’re not just pillaging their destinations, they’re feeling them; they’re becoming a part of some place in some way for some amount of time.

It’s beautiful, it’s transient, it’s impermanent. Sounds like Life.

The Loop

Just previous to last weekend, I told you that I would have a noteworthy post for you guys after the weekend passed. This is that post.

On Friday morning, while trying to decide what was going on during the weekend, my friend Carl suggested our small group rent some motorbikes and go on a short trip to some sort of nearby attraction. Luckily, hostels are full of information on interesting places to go and things to see, however most of these things were too touristic or out of our price range. Even more luckily, hostels are often full of employees that know the MOST interesting places to go and things to see, so we got a tip from one of the guys that works here that we should do the Mae Sa Loop, a 100 km (whatever that is in real distance) loop through the mountains west of Chiang Mai. It can be done in an afternoon, but this fellow, Dave, told us that he and his friends had gone a couple weeks previously and stayed at a hot springs resort in the mountains, about 25 km north of the midway point in the loop. He said it was great fun and relatively cheap, and told us if we were planning on spending 2 days on the loop, we should definitely stay at the hot springs.

So we were convinced, and it was settled: We would head out around 11am on Saturday, get to the hot springs by dark (around 7), and finish the loop the following day, with aims of being back around 11 so we wouldn’t have to pay late fees for our bikes. Carl’s teaching friend, James, was due to arrive around 6am Saturday morning, so the crew would be Carl, James, Jack, and me. We were like children on Christmas eve.

James, a bro from Luton, England who had been teaching outside Bangkok for about 5 months, arrived early in the morning, as planned (though I slept through his arrival, as planned). Once we did all get up, Dave was sweet enough to lend us his copy of the map, which saved us a cool 200 Baht ($6.50), and we planned out a bit of what we wanted to see. This involved less planning, and more just saying things out loud that sounded interesting. We were just gonna wing it, so long as we arrived at the half way point on the loop, a town called Samoeng, by 5:30 so we could easily be at the hot springs by sundown.

All packed up and ready to get going, we head over to one of the millions of motorbike rental shops here in Chiang Mai, Mr. Mechanic (we just say “Mechanic”..). We opted for automatic bikes rather than manual, supposing that we’d have enough to concentrate on without having to think about changing gears and all that business. So we pay 250 baht each, (about $8.50) 200 for the bike and 50 for insurance, which seemed prudent given our general inexperience with biking through mountain roads full of blind curves, switch backs, and whatever wildlife might be wandering across the road at any given point. Contracts in hand and helmets chosen, it was time to meet our bikes. It was love at first sight:

My Bike: The Enforcer

Yeah, my bike was neon green. It's ok to be jealous.

We stopped to get some gas and then we were on our way, heading north toward the suburban city of Mae Rim, about 15-20 minutes north of Chiang Mai. Even on the tame, run-of-the-mill highway, we were feeling the freedom of riding a motorbike, or, in our case, glorified hairdryers with wheels and a muffler. Once we made it to Mae Rim we began seeing signs for Samoeng and the various tourists attractions that lie between there and Mae Rim, and had no trouble finding our way, a luxury that would not hold true for the entire trip.
As we embarked into the mountains, we thought it would be nice to have a cup of coffee and actually decide where we wanted to stop first, with no shortage of options on this attraction-rich stretch of mountain road. The first place we happened across turned out to be a coffee shop/restaurant fully devoted to The Beatles; memorabilia, pictures, records, and of course a constant loop of great music. We thought it would be a nice setting for a group pic:

Everyone agreed that we had neither the money nor the inclination to stop at the tourist attractions along the way (ie a snake farm, a monkey show, a butterfly/orchid garden, an elephant camp, an animal ______,blah blah blah), so with a bit of caffeine in our respective systems, we headed to Mae Sa Waterfall, one of the most well-known falls in the area.

We arrived at the falls shortly after, and were made to pay an entry fee at the gate, as is common at most natural parks and attractions in Thailand. Not uncommon for national parks in general to charge entry fees in most countries, but things work a bit differently here..  The entrance fee for Thais: 40 Baht. The entrance fee for Foreigners: 200 Baht. It’s a frustratingly large difference, and a pretty big turn off, but there isn’t much to be done, and we were told the passes would be valid at any of the parks we went to in the next day, so we bit the bullet and paid the fee grudgingly.

It was worth it. Mae Sa Waterfall is actually made up of 10 separate falls, each varying in size, but all beautiful. A sample:

We spent a while frolicking in the water and exploring the falls from top to bottom, but after a couple hours decided we should really be moving on. We hoped on our bikes and made our way, stopping to take the occasional picture, and generally enjoying the drive.  I use the word “enjoying”, but that’s really like saying one “enjoys” their 8^th birthday party at Chuck E Cheese’s, or would “enjoy” a kiss from Charlize Theron.. We (or at least I) we were in bliss; being on smooth, winding road littered with stunning views, nothing but clothes and a helmet separating you from the cool mountain air rushing past you, it’s a life-affirming experience, sensually and viscerally stimulating, and vividly so.

As we got closer to our 5:30 checkpoint location, Samoeng, we decided it would be best not to stop for anything but pictures for the rest of the journey to the hot springs, in order to ensure that we got there before nightfall. It was raining a bit now, and though cool mountain temperatures are a welcome respite from the heat of the midday sun in the valley, they make for a rather cold evening when combined with rain. We reached Samoeng without difficulty, but there was a long way to go yet. 25 Km is not that far of a distance to travel, especially when you are on a legit road averaging 70 or 80 Km/hour. We were not in that situation. Once we were in Samoeng and beyond, roads got smaller, eventually turning in to what was essentially a one-lane road split into 2 lanes, and the terrain became even more winding and hilly. Between navigating the terrain and attempting to not get lost despite nearly every road sign being written exclusively in Thai, we were certainly putting our map-reading skillz to the test. We fared well though, and with a bit of good luck, intuition, and sense of direction, we were able to make our way north up to the hot springs, which we were looking forward to all the more, having spent the last 2 hours driving through a gentle but persistent mountain rain shower. As we rode victoriously up to the hot springs resort, the rain worsened and the sun had set, so our timing was just about perfect in terms of avoiding prohibitive driving conditions.

The only problem: the place is deserted. There is not a single person or vehicle in sight as we drive up, and that “oh shit, were in the middle of the mountains in North East Thailand, it’s raining and nearly dark, and we may have just stumbled into the perfect setting for a horror film..” feeling started creeping up. The noise of our bikes must have sounded pretty out of place, because an older Thai woman emerged from nowhere and beckoned us down to an open-air restaurant-looking structure. Relieved to see a person who might be of help, we followed her direction and joined her, eager to be out of the rain, but truly confused about what we had gotten ourselves into. She was joined by another Thai woman, and we started trying to communicate with each other. Did not go smoothly. Carl and James knew a bit of Thai, having spent several months living in Thailand already, but it seemed they only knew enough to confuse the old ladies even more, and be confused by them in turn. We went back and forth not understanding each other, and we were starting to lose hope that this was going to be a good night. At the very least, we knew we couldn’t leave, and that no halfway decent person would send us away into the rainy dark, so we figured we could at least pay them to let us sleep on their floor for the night.

We got way more than that. An older man showed up at some point, jangled some Thai at us, then drove away, another in a string of baffling events since we arrived at the resort. We were unaware at the time that he was actually driving in to town to gather a few of his employees, who made us some delicious food, brought us beer, and pitched tents for us to sleep in on the “restaurant” floor:

It was surreal. One minute we thought we were totally screwed, the next we were drinking and eating and being given shorts and towels to use in the large hot spring pool, which was of course empty aside from us, as was the resort in general.  After we ate our fill of soup and fried rice, we got changed, got a drink, and headed for the pool:

So good. Its like a giant hot tub, and the naturally mineral-rich water just makes you feel happy, inside and out. And the Thai whiskey certainly didn’t hurt either. They gave us a few packs of candles earlier, and we were unsure what we would use them for, until they turned off all the power around 10… so we hung out by candle light, completing one of the most memorable days of my life in comfort and style. With plans for an early morning the next day, we headed to the tents around midnight, and slept like babies.

The next morning we woke up around 8:30, and had another short hot spring session. After looking around the resort a bit we decide it was time to head out, meaning it was also time to settle the bill. This was the part I was dreading. Our friend at the hostel told us that the price was around 300 Baht ($10) a night per person, which obviously seemed an incredibly reasonable price given the experience. But we were unable to confirm this price when we arrived, and we were never told how much any of the food or drinks would cost, so our final total was a mystery to all of us. I am on a pretty tight budget these days, so I was getting a bit worried – then I saw the bill. 2500 Baht. Total. About 625 Baht per person. So we had food, alcohol, lodging, a private natural hot spring pool, and an unforgettable experience all for $21. I love this country.

As we headed out around 9:30, we got a better look at the scenery we had passed so hastily the evening before in our rush to get in out of the rain and dark. I had to record it. The video is a bit Blair Witchy, but I think you’ll get the idea despite the unsteadiness of the camera:

The  video couldn’t possibly do it justice, but driving through these little mountain villages in a remote area of a country that most Americans never get/take the time to visit, it makes you feel like a real person. A real person doing real things. These places are untouched by tourism (despite being about an hour’s drive from touristopia), and they’re better for it. This is what I was looking for when I decided to move to Thailand, and experiencing it was a thrill I can’t quite describe. It’s Real Life.

On our way back to the loop we stopped in a village to get some noodle soup and affirmation that we were going in the right direction, and we got both. The soup was better than the directions.. but both were appreciated. (Note: I never worry about getting good food in Thailand. It’s everywhere. It’s cheap AND good, a novel concept in the states) As we continued on our way, we passed a soccer field across from a general store, so we decided to stop to get some coffee and try to play some footy. This is one of the benefits of traveling with English guys: they like soccer, they place soccer, they talk about soccer. I fit in. We did end up kicking the ball around with some locals after much convincing, and we were soon again on the road, bobbing and weaving through the mountainous countryside.

I’ve just realized how long this post is getting, which is probably less a function of the number of things we did than of the impression the trip made on me. But to be more to the point, we continued on through the mountain roads, with even better roads and views than the previous day. We took a side road that went up through yet another mountain village, took some pix, met some Thai kids that liked our bikes, and eventually made it back to Chiang Mai by 1:30, sad that the short journey was over. But the icing on the cake: we weren’t charged the 40 Baht per person that we should’ve been charged for bringing the bikes back 2 hours late. What a world.

So in summary: An unbelievable experience that I will never forget, and would never have had if we hadn’t decided to get out of town and off the beaten track. Also: doing a motorbike trip would be the best bachelors party/vacation ever. So everyone who thinks they should be involved in my bachelors party, start learning to ride a motorcycle.