They say there are no accidets in life, but.........

They say there are no accidents in life, but I am living proof that there are. The other day while driving in the north we were on a remote, winding, road going down a steep hill in a rain storm, the road made a sharp bend to the left, and when I tried to slow to make the curve, the brakes locked up and I began that agonizingly slow, but inexorable slide to the guard rail, and CRUNCH! We got up-close and very personal with an understanding of the laws of gravity working at odds with (or in conjunction with?) a non-friction surface as we hit the guard rail at about 15 miles an hour.

The front right side of the car looked like a refugee from a Nascar wreck. Our first thoughts were. “Uh-oh, here we are 80 miles from nowhere. What do we do?” Luckily, today’s cars being the tin cans that they are, I was able to peel the fender away from the tire and drive it. The only physical damage that occurred was the momentary pain when I hit my hand on the steering wheel being so angry at myself for not being able to prevent it from happening; that and my bruised ego.

Carol was, of course, true to her nature, pointing out that nobody was hurt, the car was drivable, it was nobody’s fault, it was just the coming together of all the forces at work, and wondering why it is always so easy for me to forgive others, and so hard for me to forgive myself. She is always such a calming influence in my life. Situations like this always bring into focus just how much she adds to it.

We drove the 60 miles to Chaing Mai where we turned the car into Avis, got a replacement. It just cost me $125 deductible on the insurance I had gotten with the rental car, and we were back like nothing had happened, with the exception of me trying to look inside and find what it was I should learn from the experience.

I thought of my friend Bob Wilson who had a small crunchola in New Zealand; tried to find the balance with being never afraid to try anything to the realization that that might not always be the best approach; told myself that it was all right to make mistakes in judgement; told myself that maybe this was a gentle reminder that I needed to be more cautious so that something more serious didn’t happen, and a myriad of other internal mental questions, answers to which I am still searching for.

We stayed in Chaing Mai and then went to Chaing Rai, which turned out to be our favorite place here in Thailand. It was small enough that we could walk from our hotel to any point in town and had lots of options within easy reach. We made contact with Bua, a Thai woman who is married to a client of mine, and was the main impetus for us to come here. I have done tickets for Gerry and their son who travel back and forth between Lodi and the small town on the Burmese border Mae Sai where she runs a garlic processing factory. She had actually been a teacher’s aide at Village Oaks School, in the district where we taught. We spent much of a day with her and she drove us out to the Golden Triangle, that spot on the Mekong river where Thailand, Burma, and Laos all come together, we visited the factory where she processes 100 tons of garlic each month. She had just gotten back from China where she negotiated a deal to supply diesel fuel for the upriver towns. She is quite a remarkable person. She had her cook fix us a sumptuous lunch that was excellent, and we just talked about Thailand and life here: being a woman in business in Asia, the Royal family, Thai society, etc. It was very informative and thoroughly pleasant. As always, making contact with the people of the country we are visiting is what is the most interesting for us.

We visited a temple and talked to a young woman in her twenties who was staying at there studying meditation for a few days. She and her sister, a doctor, just come up and take some time off once in a while to re-focus. She told us that anybody could stay at the temples for free. There are rooms at each, and visitors are always welcome. Bua said that the temples are owned by the government, quite a conceptual change for us non-church/state types. We were invited to stay, but time constraints prevented that, but the concept was appealing.

We visited “The Union of Northern Hill Tribes,” which sounds fine, but I left with the feeling that these people were being exploited, and that I was contributing to that exploitation. There is such a fine line between supporting indigenous peoples and simply using them to further your own ends. There was no attempt to explain their customs, their culture, or anything else about them. Just pay your money, walk around and watch them. It reminded me a little of the Kinky Friedman song: “Ballad of Ira Hayes,” where the tourists want to know: “When do the Indians dance?” I felt like a voyeur as I filmed them, both fascinated by their dress and manners, and ashamed of myself for taking video just so that I had some shots of them on tape. We have traveled in many places and have always been interested in learning about the different ways that peoples have worked out this living of life. It has always fascinated me that no matter where we have been, people have found joy in life, meaning in their surroundings, and are certainly no worse off for not having the trappings of our western civilization. But, with that being said, I don‚t want for them to feel that they are just performing seals for the benefit of the tourists, and that they are reduced to doing this type of degrading exhibition because they are poor and their tribal ways of life are passing and they can no longer continue them as “Civilization” takes over. It’s such a fine line. I hope that I’m wrong, and that the money for the entrance fees goes into making their lives better. I just didn’t see it. On a positive note, Carol was able to watch some of the ladies weave on back-strap looms.

Some short snippets of observation:

We’ve been surprised at how many people speak English here in Thailand, not just in the big cities, but most everywhere. Stopping at a 7-11 (yes, they are VERY prevalent here) for directions or help, walking down the street, or lots of other times, we have been able to communicate our needs without struggle.

The roads have been a very pleasant surprise, with the exception of one curve on one road near Pai. Lots of four lane roads, well surfaced, easy to make good time once you learn the rules.

Names of towns on the map have provided us with some humor. Many are difficult to pronounce so we just come up with our own version for identification purposes. Some have sounds that seem like something else. One small town was named
Pa Dead, which made me happy that the next village wasn’t larger where it might be called Grand Pa Dead. Ang Thong is a real town, Rong Kat sounds like one of my animals, there’s Bo Man, Bang Wang, and of course there are the temples, Wat Po and the like.

We’ve had to slow down for police checks on the highways. They make serpentines to slow you down and pull cars over for checks. Sometimes the police are just there reading the paper, sometimes actually doing checks. As soon as they see the AVIS sign in the car window, we are just pushed on through. If smugglers are smart, they’ll just rent Avis cars to do their trafficking.

Traffic lights stay red/green for a longer time, and they often have numbered signs which count down the time before a change. When leaving Chaing Rai we were stopped at a light and realized we hadn’t gotten a picture of a beautiful shrine there at the corner. I saw the numbers count down 130-129-128, set the hand brake, got the video camera, stepped out, did my filming and still had 40 seconds to spare. Cool idea, because you don’t sit there and say: “come on, come on, change.” Oh, you mean, I’m the only one who does that?

We saw many places that sold small houses that looked like some kind of massive bird house sale yard. We later found out that most Thais buy one of these, sometimes small like the bird house size other times massive ones that are big enough to live in for the resident spirits to reside. They protect the family and their house and are very prevalent both in city and rural areas.

Over 50% of all Thai men serve some part of their life as a monk. Most commonly just before marriage and starting their family, a young man will go through an ordination ceremony and become a monk. In the villages, these ceremonies are great cause for celebration and the entire village will take part.

Thailand is a multi-cultural country: Thais, Hmongs, Khmers, Laos, and dozens of smaller groups of peoples have lived in harmony in the country for centuries. Buddhism lends itself to racial tolerance. Buddha, after all, was from India. We neither saw or felt any hint that they saw differences in people.

Thailand is truly a beautiful country and its people mirror that beauty. Orchids grow everywhere, in the crotch of limbs of trees, things that we call house plants grow wild and add beauty and color to the most mundane of walks. The Thais take great pride in adding color to the streets, highways, and small lanes. It has really been a pleasure to see that even in poor areas; people find ways to add beauty to their lives.

The country is very vibrant. Smiles come easily. Laughter fills the air, and everybody makes the visitor very comfortable in being a small part of their world even if only for such a short visit as we have had. It is easy to think of returning again to see more of the country, and taking more time to understand what we’ve seen. This trip was always intended as a preliminary to the upcoming trek in Tibet. It deserves more than that. It’s not a throw-away in any sense of the word.

So, tomorrow we fly to Katmandu and then start the 25 days into something which will be totally new to both of us. It’s always fun to discover together something which neither of us has any experience.

Let the adventure begin.

Love to all,

Carol and Jim