One of the required activities of a trip to Northern Thailand is a trek to one of the many hill-tribe villages dotting the mountains. These villages are populated by various ethnic minorities that have come to Thailand to escape persecution in their home countries – mainly Burma, China, and Laos. They are generally denied Thai citizenship and therefore denied the right to work as anything but subsistence farmers.

We were in Mae Hong Son as part of our drive around a popular Northern Thailand loop (more on this adventure soon). For our trek, we wanted to do some actual hiking, no elephant rides (which is pretty standard in the itineraries), and we wanted to stay in a village overnight. We tried to find reviews of specific tour companies online, but there weren’t many. So we went with one that was at least mentioned in the Lonely Planet guide and hoped for the best.

After being picked up at our hotel, we drove for about 45 minutes, through the airport (literally) and up the mountain behind it. We were let out at a large village to start the trek with our guide. The trail first wound its way through farms and some forest. It was wonderful to be hiking in nature as we’d been spending too much time driving the last few days. But soon, we reached a stream. We were told to change our shoes (Eug and I were both wearing our nice hiking boots). When we booked the tour, we had been instructed to bring sandals as we would be walking through some streams (and were shown pictures of people wading through water). So at the advice of our guide, we slipped on our sandals and headed into the water, expecting to wade across then change back into our boots. Instead, we spent the next hours walking up the stream – sometimes in it, sometimes on the banks, many times scrambling up the rocks that lined it. The trek was unexpectedly challenging. Sometimes we got to places where – given the slippery state of the rocks, the precariousness of the footings, and the high penalty for failure – I was more than a little unsure about how much more I could handle. Eugene, on the other hand, bounded up and down the rocks like a mountain goat. Nonetheless, the scenery was quite beautiful and worth the effort.

Finally, after about 4 hours of climbing, wading, and scrambling, we were told we could change back into our hiking shoes. This was a welcome relief for my feet which were starting to prune. But our trek was not close to being over for the day. Our guide – indicating more with his hands than his tenuous grasp of English – that we’d go “up-up-up”, which we did for another 3 hours. We passed by many landscapes along the way: evergreen forests, fern groves, bamboo forests, even some small farms carved out of the forest. It was a tiring day, but Eugene managed to find the energy to take some great photos along the way.

At last we arrived at our village for the night just before sunset. There were a number of traditional bamboo buildings, a variety of farm animals, but no people. Here is when our guide gave us the background of this “village”. A decade or so ago it was a village of 12 families. Over the years, most of the population moved to the city. Now there are only 2 families: one single man and an older couple, who we were to stay with. As we soon learned, the wife was visiting her daughter in the city (and we aren’t sure where the other guy was), so the entire village that hosted us consisted of one man.

Our host was 67 years old and had been born in the village. As we sat by his indoor cooking fire, we tried to learn more about his life. He lives a life that mixes traditions with a few modern conveniences. He does have a cell phone, but he has to walk for 20 minutes to get any signal. He has a solar panel that charges some truck batteries for night-time lighting, and he had to carry the heavy batteries up the trail on his back as there are no other roads in. He eats mainly what plants and animals he finds in the forest, but also has a small vegetable garden and some pigs and chickens that he sells for money.

In the morning, we set off bright and early as the roosters that slept under our room wouldn’t have had it any other way. We already knew we had a long day ahead, given the climbing we’d done on the way there, and we were not disappointed. Our guide took us down a different trail, shorter, more steep, but much drier than the one we’d taken up.

On the road down, we met a man who was resting by the trail. Our guide explained that he was a refugee from Myanmar, and while he can live in Thailand, he cannot work. So he makes money doing what odd jobs he can. That day he was hauling wood down the trail for about $7. Our guide gave him his ratty old jacket, and the man was very grateful to receive it. It made personal some of the things I’d read about the problems between minority groups near the Thai border in Myanmar.

I’ll leave you with some advice if you plan on going trekking in Northern Thailand – and probably anywhere. Make sure to actually ask for details: What is the trail like? How many people live in the village we will stay in? And no matter the answers – be prepared to enjoy whatever life throws at you.

Having not stayed on Khao San Road in Bangkok, Chiang Mai was our first exposure to a backpacker area. Firstly, it turns out “backpackers” aren’t just white 22 year olds scraping by on $20 a day. Sure, they are the largest group, but they constitute only about 40% of all travelers. 30% are retired white people, 20% are Chinese or Korean families/groups, and the remaining 10% are like us — not quite 22, and not quite retired.

Most of the touristy bits of Chiang Mai fit within the old walled/moated city — a 1.5 km x 1.5 km square.

Hotels, guesthouses, hostels, restaurants, cafes, food carts, bars, clubs, tour agencies, tchotchke vendors, tuk-tuk hustlers, and of course numerous wats occupy most of the space. While there are still some people who live there, it feels that more and more of them are getting forced out in favor of some latest guest house or restaurant. I guess they have the same gentrification issues as poor areas of western cities, except here the old flavor of the city is slowly being replaced by tourists who are there one day and gone the next. In the 3 weeks between Chiang Mai and the writing of this post, we have seen various stages of this pattern taking hold in Thai, Lao, and Cambodian cities.

But I digress. The city is lovely, full of tasty food, tasty drinks, friendly people, and lots of things to do – both in town, and as a jumping-off point to a myriad local activities – such as cooking classes and elephant visits.

The 2.25km² old city is home to several dozen wats of various sizes, ages, blingery, and disrepair. Most were empty and quiet – as a wat should be. Only a couple of the more famous ones were overrun by tourists. We spent a few of our days simply wandering around town, wat peeping and taking in the culture.

On our second day in town, we did what just about every tourist in Southeast Asia does – rented a motorbike for the day. Since Rochelle was feeling less than confident riding through Thai traffic, we rented one scooter for both of us. After we got our little Honda 150 (which we later learned had a weight capacity that we exceeded a bit…), we took a couple terrifying laps around the old city and we were ready to go. We were headed up to Doi Suthep, a mountain just 15 km west of the city. The road up is full of curves and switchbacks, but thankfully not a ton of traffic.

Our main destination was Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep, a 600-year old temple that overlooks Chiang Mai. There is a lot of history mixed with legend here. According to the story, a white elephant carrying a piece of a relic was left to roam the jungle and trumpeted three times then died. So they built this wat there. This wat is a very popular pilgrimage destination for Thais, and as a result the number of donation boxes, offerings for sale, and other requests for money is astounding. Money is everywhere. That said, it is a beautifully golden temple and probably has a great view of Chiang Mai — when the air quality allows.

After the wat, we continued up the road for a few more kilometers to check out one of the king’s winter palaces. It is known for its gardens full of exotic (to Thais) flowers like roses and tulips (up there it’s cool enough for them to grow). The garden was quite indeed full of roses, but there wasn’t a whole lot else to see. On our way back down the steep curvy road I only overheated the brakes once before realizing that a little gas puts the automatic scooter in gear and allows engine braking. Luckily the terrifying feel of the brake lever going soft only happened when we were already going slow…and there is a redundant mechanical brake.

Overall, we really enjoyed our time in Chiang Mai and could see spending a lot more time there. But we wanted to get back on the road – we rented a car to see more remote Northern Thailand. More on that adventure to come!

For the first 2 weeks in Thailand Eugene kept asking “So where are the elephants?”. Save for tourists in elephant pants, we saw none. So once we got to Chiang Mai, we went in search of “happy” elephants. We weren’t quite sure what we meant by that, but knew that seeing them in as natural a setting as possible was part of it.

We had already been asking around about the best place to go and our Sukhothai bike tour guide had suggested either Elephant Nature Park or Patara Elephant Farm. We did quite a bit of research and decided we wanted a place that did not include riding on the animals, so we chose to go to Elephant Nature Park and we’re very glad we did.

Like every tourist activity run out of Chiang Mai, we were picked up from our hotel, bright and early in a bus minivan. During the hour drive north into the mountains, we watched a safety video all about how to not get trampled, kicked, or whacked by an elephant. We also learned that the Park rescues animals that have worked in the logging (technically illegal in Thailand, but not Myanmar) or in the tourist industry. In addition, some of the elephants are orphaned babies from the wild or in captivity.

We arrived at the Park, excited to have already glimpsed a few elephants in the distance during the drive. We started our visit with a chance to feed an elephant from a platform. To do so, you hold the piece of fruit up to the side of its remarkably strong trunk. Our elephant, who was blind, from old age and too many tourist camera flashes in its past, had a breakfast of watermelon and pumpkin. While feeding was fun, I found it even more enjoyable to just watch them eat. Their use of their trunk to feel, smell, and eat was incredible.

After feeding time, we went out for a walk on the grounds of the park. I assumed we’d be watching the animals from a far as they elephant-ed around. Much to my surprise, we came right up close to a pair of females with their mahouts (each elephant has a caretaker that is with them all the time). Being so close to an elephant, actually touching their skin and feeling the muscle in their trunks was an exhilarating and awe-inspiring experience.

We learned that of the dozens of elephants that live at the park, most are female (they have very few males that have to live separately as they usually live by themselves in the wild) and they have made their own social groups. Some stay in larger families, others in twos or threes, and some prefer to be on their own (especially since they may have come from an environment where they never socialized with other elephants).

The family groups were by far the most captivating. These feel like watching the most natural of behaviors. Mothers, grandmothers, and “nannies” all help take care of their young. Juvenile elephants are very playful and you need to keep your distance lest they decide to be playful with you. We watched one nanny (a non-related female that takes on helping the mother raise the young) get threatened by a group of elephants from a riding camp across the river and charge at them. Because mahouts at the park do not use hooks or any other violent means to control the animals, the only way to calm this elephant down was to lead its baby nearer to distract her. We were so distracted by the commotion that we didn’t think to start recording until the elephant came running back.

While the elephants were incredible, it was disturbing just how many animals were there because of human violence. Some elephants we saw had crippled legs because they’d stepped on land mines that are scattered near the Burmese border (set by minority groups that don’t want the government on their land.) Another had been deformed when a car hit her and yet another had a broken back from too much riding. Another was blind because its previous owners would hit it in the eyes when it refused to work. There was even a baby had been orphaned when his wild mother was shot. But luckily, they have pretty good veterinary care. We watched an elephant being given antibiotics through the largest I.V. bag I’ve ever seen.

We were fed a tasty vegetarian lunch (the founder, Lek, cares about rescuing animals and also “saves” buffalo from the slaughterhouse). Then we watched a Nat Geo special on the sanctuary (lots of heart-string pulling). In a rather graphic way, we watched how young elephants have their “spirit broken” to be work animals. The practice of Phajaan, we were told involves constraining the animal for days while it is beaten. While there are modern ways of training elephants using positive reinforcement, the villages where most elephants are trained are still using the same cruel methods they’ve been using for centuries.

After the film, we also got a chance to help bathe the animals, which was really just throwing buckets of river water on the animals. This felt the most contrived of all the things we did that day and when the elephants were being bribed with food to behave for the tourists. But it was still another chance to interact with the amazing creatures.

So we were left with two big questions: “did we really see happy elephants?” and “would we tell people to avoid riding elephants on their trips to Southeast Asia?”

Let’s start with riding. More so after our day with the animals, Eugene and I are certain we will never be okay with getting on the back of an elephant in a seat or bareback. Given the “spirit-breaking” regimen that young elephants are put through to be docile enough to carry a rider, we feel that supporting companies that allow riding would be perpetuating the practice. Besides, we had plenty of up close and personal time with animals without being on their backs. But what would we suggest to others? Our best advice is to do your research, make sure that you are supporting practices with which you are comfortable. Since there are so few wild elephants left in Thailand and there is little hope that the population will recover, perhaps the only way to financially support those in captivity is to continue to support responsible riding camps.

And did we see happy elephants? You might say some of the animals we saw were likely very unhappy given the reasons they’d been brought to the Park. Being blinded, having a broken back, being beaten until they worked, or simply being abandoned — does not really meet our definition of happy. But the fact that many of the animals have formed new social groups, wander freely, and are well fed with plenty of medical help they may have better lives now than some human residents of Thailand — so they’re certainly better off. And of course who’s to say if an animal is truly “happy” or even capable of it. Sounds like a good question for a second PhD thesis…and not that far from one having to do with mice feeling chronic pain…

When we reached Chiang Mai, Eugene and I decided to take a cooking class as we wanted to learn about the food we’d been eating over the last week in Thailand. Cooking schools are all over the old city of Chiang Mai and Eugene’s friend recommended us one that takes us out to a farm.

Our instructor, Meow (yes, really), picked us up from our hotel and we made our way out to the farm with a stop at a local food market. At the market, we learned about many of the ingredients we’d be using. Though for many farang (foreigners) this would be full of exotic new fruits and vegetables, Eugene and I were reminded of Berkeley Bowl and how lucky to live in the Bay Area with the vast diversity of produce.

Once at the farm, we donned ridiculous farm hats to explore even more of the fresh ingredients we’d be using. We learned a few useful things, like the difference between kaffir limes (only the rind and leaves are used) and regular limes (the juice and sometimes rind is used) as well as the Thai word for squash – fak (sounds exactly how you think). I also discovered that the fresh looking ginger I’d seen at the store in the US is called galangal and is similar to ginger, but less spicy and more sweet.

We each got to choose from multiple dishes for each course, so we cooked a total of 10 different things. Eugene made spicy chicken salad, hot basil stirfry, tom kha soup, green curry, and fried banana. I made green papaya salad, pad thai, tom yum soup, khaw soi curry (a specialty of Chiang Mai), and mango sticky rice.

As we began cooking, Meow explained that we can make our food as spicy or mild as we’d like, calling something that was more spicy “sexy.” She definitely had her script down, but was still amusing 🙂

In the preparation of our first courses, Eugene was given the instruction to use some chili peppers. Our instructor told us foreigners use 3-5 peppers and Thais use 10-15. Eugene — having already taken offense at her saying “foreigners don’t eat that” about black (blood) tofu at the market — said “Ok, I’ll use 25!” It was definitely quite sexy, but still quite edible.

We also learned to make curry paste from scratch, using a mortar and pestle. My chili paste, khaw soi, uses dried red chilis, lemongrass, ginger, turmeric, and many other aromatics all mashed together. Eugene made green curry paste, made with fresh chilis and therefore hotter. It took a lot of work to make the paste.

We are excited to try cooking the dishes we made once we are done with our adventures and to be even more open to the different fruits and veggies in the Bay Area markets. We are also looking forward to taking cooking classes in all the other countries we visit.

As we had gotten our fill of ruins in the Historic City of Suhkothai, we decided to take a bike tour of the area—one of the few other things listed to do that didn’t involve more ruins. The company we went with is one of two in the city and is run by a very nice Thai family. Jib, the husband, was our guide and we were set up with much better bikes than we’d had the previous day which made the 30 km ride much more pleasant.

Much of the tour involved riding through rice fields and small villages. Jib told us all about the old traditions of growing rice as well as newer methods (including the widespread use of pesticides.) Interestingly, we learned that the large numbers of storks seen in the fields are there because there is a major problem with snails that eat rice and the storks eat the snails. They are completely awkward looking birds, but helpful!

We also learned a great deal about the people who live and work in the farms and villages we passed through. Cock fighting is a major pastime in Thailand, and especially in the Sukhothai area and has been for many centuries. But “because they are Buddhist and peaceful” they usually make sure the lethal spurs on the roosters’ feet are cut-off or wrapped. I found this to be a bit contradictory as animals still die from the fights.

On the subject of the religion and belief of the people of the area (which is really a combination of Buddhism, Hinduism, and animism), we finally discovered more about the small shrines we have seen everywhere. The little house-like structures are spirit houses and are literally intended to be that, a place for the spirits of the dead to live so they don’t haunt you. Flowers, water, and food (though this is removed after 30 mins) are left daily as offerings. The spirit house we stopped at had been there for a few generations and was next to a tribute to Water Buffalo, an animal once vital to farming and now rarely present. The buffalo was made of shade cloth and motor bike tires and would not be out of place at Burning Man.

With so many kilometers of rice fields, I had a lot of time to contemplate the idea of sustainability in terms of life in the rural parts of Thailand. We visited a family who runs a rice whiskey distillery. In some ways they truly represent “sustainability,” but mainly as a way to scrape by. They grow the rice organically, raise the yeast used to ferment to rice into wine, which they then distill into whiskey. The solid leftovers from the process are dried and fed to pigs that can then be sold. The stills are heated over wood fires, the coals of which are sold to food cart vendors to use in their grills. To sell the whiskey legally, the family is required to buy a 28 baht government stamp per bottle that they then sell for 35 baht (1 USD = 32 baht). Not surprisingly, much of her business is done “un-officially”. Given the insanely small margin they live on, the idea of any kind of waste would be absurd.

Another fascinating place we visited was a family that raises crickets, currently trendy in the sustainable food movement. Farmers used to collect crickets in traps in the fields, but with the increased use of insecticides, they are no longer able to catch many. So now, there are people who raise them to sell. Crickets don’t seem to require much, they eat the vegetable waste that humans don’t and reproduce and grow quickly. Our guide also raises crickets, which his daughter apparently eats like potato chips. He had his uncle make us a batch for the end of our ride: pan fried, salted, and quite tasty.

Finally, no Thai countryside tour would be complete without a healthy dose of wats, and we saw a number – some still being constructed, some large with many monks. It is surprising that even though they are mostly poor farmers, almost every village funds a wat and monks. Eugene and I are intrigued by how much money is put into the religion here. The largest wat we visited on the tour, where there was a mummified monk on display, had a pair of special gongs that make a sound not just by hitting them, but also by rubbing them. See Eugene successfully stroke one till it sings 🙂

Overall, the tour was one of the most interesting experiences of our trip thus far. Jib was quite open about talking about the traditions and beliefs, but also the realities of modern Thailand (even a little politics). As in all agricultural places, the people who live in these villages and farms are getting older as the younger generation gets more education and leaves for the cities. It will be fascinating to see what rural life is like here in another 20 years.