small village, small problems

After a week of midterm exams marking the culmination of eight weeks of classes, we were set free on a week-long fall break. To kick off the vacation, we embarked on a three-day trekking tour in the mountains of southern Chiang Mai. The students who had signed up for the trip were divided into two groups that would follow the same route starting from opposite ends of the path. After leaving the city early on Saturday morning in silver pickup trucks (the off-road version of red trucks), we drove through the hills and left the highway behind as we headed to our first stop along the way: the Tong Bai Elephant Sanctuary. 

We piled out of the trucks and were greeted by two volunteers who welcomed us to the sanctuary, explained what the Tong Bai Foundation does, and gave us the background stories of the elephants in the field in front of us. We were then invited to calmly approach the elephants, moving slowly as we reached out to touch their leathery trunks. While we could not feed them bananas, as we were informed that it makes them “too fat,” we were allowed to offer them handfuls of hay from the field and watch as they munched it at a lackadaisical pace. 

Bath time!

Most of the elephants there had been rescued from a past of forced labor and trauma, including one male who had both tusks cut off by poachers during the middle of the night. The sanctuary is relatively small and employs local Karen villagers who are familiar with the elephants, which was clear in their compassionate and playful handling of the animals when they took them to the nearby river to bathe. 

All too soon, it was time to begin our hiking. Following our fearless guide, Wat, we headed down the road to a small village surrounded by agricultural fields, put on our backpacks, and headed up through terraced corn fields toward the forest. After only an hour or so of walking alongside a stream through stands of bamboo and tropical plants, we came to a waterfall where we stopped for lunch. Like our trail food provided to us during the jungle trek at Mae Sa Mai, our khao pad was wrapped in a banana leaf and served alongside freshly cut watermelon and pineapple. Needless to say, I could already tell that this “trek” would be much more luxurious than the dehydrated food-filled backpacking trips that I’ve become accustomed to. 

The waterfall with a hidden cave

After a leisurely lunch and dip in the river under the rushing waterfall, we continued walking through the woods. We soon emerged from the shaded path as it opened up into steep terraced fields and valleys that unfurled into the distance under the midday sun. As we walked along the seemingly endless uphill path, we stopped at a field where workers were collecting harvested rice. We stopped to watch them, then they invited us to help them finish their labor. We were dripping sweat within seconds as we mimicked their actions of taking a bundle of dried rice stalks clamped between two long poles and whacking it on the ground to shake the grains of rice out of their hulls. The motion involved the use of one’s entire body, requiring incredible strength and stamina. We were not of much help to the workers, but we succeeded in providing them with momentary entertainment as we attempted to help. 

Hard at work (for a mere 20 minutes)

We soon arrived at the Karen village where we spent our first night, which was a small farming community of around three hundred people. From the bamboo mats on the open-air porch where we would be sleeping, we could see for miles across bright green terraced rice fields to the rolling mountains in the distance. We spent the afternoon walking around the village with Wat, passing papaya trees, pigs grazing on leftover food scraps, and families cooking dinner on outdoor fires. On our way back, we walked through a stand of bamboo where the ground was littered with dried out, punctured stalks from which bamboo worms (a local delicacy) had already been harvested. 

The view from our bamboo sleeping mats

After a candle-lit dinner of banana spring rolls, pad puck (stir fried vegetables), gaeng khiew wahn (green curry), and more fresh pineapple and watermelon, our small group was visited by one of the elders of the village who welcomed us with a traditional Karen song. Wat interpreted for us, then went on to explain how life for the members of the community has been changing over time with the inundation of technology and the encroachment of development in the surrounding areas. His sentiment was summarized succinctly with the idea that “a smaller village has smaller problems.” Despite the changing world around them, villagers here are able to maintain trust and support among themselves due to the small, closely-knit community.

We emerged from our mosquito netted beds the next morning after a rosy sunrise and fueled up on scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit that Wat had prepared for us. We thanked our hosts for having us stay in their home, then went on our way to our next destination. Making our way through the woods along paths that followed the steep ridges of the forested hills, we walked for a few hours surrounded by the trilling of birds and the chirping of insects.

Com lam, or sticky rice steamed in bamboo

“We just came from that rainforest?!”

When it was time for lunch, we stopped and devoured bamboo-wrapped bundles of fried noodles using chopsticks carved by Wat just minutes before. Wat then lit a fire to boil water for tea and sticky rice, and we watched, fascinated, as he deftly chopped up several bamboo poles into small teacups into which he poured our tea. Soon, the sticky rice, which had been steamed over the fire inside longer sections of bamboo, was ready to eat. We peeled back the strips of bamboo and shared the tube of sticky rice inside. Delicious food cooked and served inside a compostable – my kind of khanom (snack)! 

We then continued along through the forest, crossing paths with the other group that had started from where we would end our trek the next day. The sky then opened up and began to pour as we walked through what became a rainforest, making the trail slick with mud. In the afternoon, we emerged into open rice paddies draped with mist and made our way through the fields to the village where we spent our second night.

Before dinner, one of the men from the village came to show us how to weave a bamboo basket. As one of the community’s most skilled weavers, he quickly and gracefully laced the strips of bamboo together into a complex star-shaped pattern, guiding us through the motions. In less than half an hour, our collaborative efforts (read: the expertise of the weaver) produced a beautiful handmade basket. 

Basket weaving 101

We feasted on a dinner of fried potatoes, curried vegetables, and pumpkin stir-fried with egg (and, of course, more fruit). Afterwards, we were visited by the leader of the village who welcomed us in Karen then, one by one, recited a prayer wishing us good health and a safe return home as he tied a white string on each of our wrists. We then went to sleep listening to the sound of raindrops on the metal roof above our heads.

In the morning, it was still raining as we ate breakfast, packed up, and left the village. We made our way through more rice paddies, steep terraced fields, and back into the cover of the trees. After bushwhacking up a steep slope under leafy branches and dew drop-tinged spider webs, we then descended down the slippery trail to where we were picked up by the same trucks that had dropped us off at the opposite end of the trail two days before. 

Embarking on our riverine adventure

A rag-tag bunch of backpackers emerging from the wilderness

We drove back down through the mountains and stopped for a lunch of pad Thai before embarking on our final leg of the journey, a bamboo rafting excursion on the river that was now rushing from the previous night’s rainstorm. In groups of three, we floated down the river on thirty-foot-long rafts made from bamboo logs lashed together with rope and rubber ties as a guide stood and used a pole to navigate the rapids of the river.

As we returned to the bustle of Chiang Mai, the events of our journey had already begun to feel like a dream. The trip that I had been looking forward to for months had come to a close, but fortunately, we were left with stories, jokes, and memories that won’t fade as easily as the mud stains left on our clothes from the weekend’s adventures.