Jungle Boogie

I'm really high up.

Line into the jungle

  It was with a very heavy heart that I left Cave Lodge for The Pearl of North, also known as Chiang Mai. In fact, the lodge was so peaceful that I actually experienced culture shock when I got back to Chiang Mai and was confronted with the noise and the people and the pollution. But that is not to say Chiang Mai isn’t a beautiful city; it’s a million trillion times cleaner and less hectic than Bangkok with more beautiful nooks and crannies and better food. And a lot more tourists. I stayed in a hostel that had been invaded with OEGers for the New Year in what is known as the Old City of Chiang Mai. Centuries ago, a great wall was constructed around this Old City and you can still follow the ruins of the wall all along this area of Chiang Mai. I stayed near the East Gate, which was party central for New Years. After spending so much time with Thais and eager explorers of the mountains this place took some getting use too.

Time was something that I didn’t really seem to have in Chiang Mai. I was picked up bright and early the day after my arrival for The Flight of the Gibbons, guaranteed to be the best zip lining experience in Thailand. It boasted lines of upward to 800 meters long (sadly, that line was not available during this trip) and beautiful scenery of the jungle canopy. Of course I was going to do it, that’s a no brainer. At this point, some of you must be scratching your heads a bit as I do have a well-known issue with heights. I’m not scared of them, by any means; it’s more of a problem with vertigo. When I’m walking up multiple flights of stairs or even an escalator, I’ve been known to grip on to the railing and take deep breaths because it feels like I’m about to fall over the side. But still, when am I ever going to be in Thailand again with the chance to fly through the jungle canopy like a hairy monkey? (Perhaps the hairy monkey part was not a good analogy…) And what could possibly go wrong?

Joe

Enter Joe. Joe is a very tiny man, even by Thai standards. It makes him the perfect candidate for a job that requires you to zoom from tree to tree while also catching the smaller tourist children with your legs. You could say that Joe was smitten with me at first sight. He picked me out of the line of people to get their harnesses on and fitted mine personally. He wasn't shy; he had no problem telling me “you awer wery beautidul.” And Joe wasn’t bad looking or unkind, but I haven’t been here long enough for what the ladies and I call “Thai Goggles” to set in. So what does a Thai Monkey Man do when his efforts don’t seem to be going anywhere? He wants to make sure you have a great time on your zip line, of course. But to Joe, a good time meant that he was constantly pushing me off the platform so I reached speeds I wasn’t comfortable with (“Why you always go so fast?” asked the other employee who was in charge of catching us) or yanking on the zip line so I bounced up and down and ran into a few branches from time to time. I know, I know. I work in a kindergarten and I should have seen that one coming.

So, what does it feel like to fly through the jungle canopy? It’s not the weightless feeling I was expecting. You are extremely aware that you are sitting in a harness connected to an upside-down rollerblade that is propelling you across the jungle and at any moment that blade could fall off the line leaving you dangling, waiting for Joe to come out and get you. (The opening scene of Cliffhanger comes to mind…) It is, however, the most freeing feeling. When I did get use to the fast speed and better at ducking under branches I could look around to see miles of jungle with huge trees shooting out of the canopy, each one competing for more sunlight than the one beneath it. I could hear (though never saw) a river underneath my feet. I could swing my legs and let my arms hang in the wind. And I now have a better appreciation for why George of the Jungle was always hitting trees because they really do come out of nowhere.

"When I was 30 miles from Myanmar..." Part 2: The Caves

Our guide with some stalactites

(Sorry, this one is a bit long.)

The Aussie, Mike, and the American couple, David and Katy, had been at the Lodge for a day or so when I arrived. After chatting by the fire for a few hours we decided to sign up for an all day trek that visited three different caves and boasted some great scenery. I had a blissfully cold night sleep (it got down to about 40 degrees up there) huddled under a stack of blankets and awoke ready for the trek. When John’s wife (who, like any farang male married to a Thai woman will tell you, is truly the boss of the place) came by with my coffee she asked what I wanted to for breakfast. I tried to explain I wasn’t much of a breakfast person and she gave me a hard stare that said “I will not be responsible for a farang dropping on the trails.” I order muffins, which were spectacular. The food at the Lodge was amazing, home-made bread and actual coffee and spicy curry…but I digress. Ben drove Mike, Katy, Dave, our guide (whose name escapes me) and I to the drop off point a fair distance from the Lodge. We stuck to the trail for all of ten minutes before our guide fed us to the bushes. No, for once that was not a typo. We walked off the trail into the bush, which promptly swallowed us. We would not set eyes on anything that looked like a trail till the very end of the trek; however our guide was kind enough to expertly slice through the thicker parts with his machete. In a few places, I swear the breeze took a Kurtz-ian accent and whispered “the horror! The horror!” (I am aware that Heart of Darkness has nothing to do with Thailand but I was there and there was an Apocalypse Now sorta feeling in that jungle.) After ten minutes I was covered in burs and leaves and scratches. 

Entrance to Fossil Cave

We arrived at the first cave quickly, which was named Fossil Cave. As I was strapping on the helmet I remember starting to get a bit nervous. I had no idea what to expect: would it be so tight I’d get stuck? What if I freak out? What if I get lost? Yada, yada, yada; I took a breath and went in. Luckily, I had a helmet on, because one of the first things I did was crack my head really hard. I didn’t feel a thing.  

Fossils

The first thing I remember thinking was I might suffocate. Not because the cave was a tight squeeze but because the air was so damp, combined with a lack of oxygen in caves and the fact that these lungs aren’t exactly “fresh.” But soon I was having so much fun I didn’t think much of it. Fossil Cave had a large atrium with many tunnels leading to other chambers. Each chamber was completely different. Some were deeper, others massive. One chamber was two close walls at a thirty-degree angle. I had to stand at a tilt and shuffle through the crack, staring up at stalactites. The final chamber was the one with the actual fossils. Embedded into the rock were hundreds of prehistoric creatures that looked more like seashells. We were told these fossils had been dated at 200 million years old. And the caves had been forming for longer than that. In some places you can see where a stalactite (one hanging from the ceiling) and a stalagmite (one coming from the ground) are getting close to meeting, that they had been reaching for each other for over 200 million years.

Soaked, coming out of Waterfall Cave

We left the cave invigorated and in awe and headed to cave number two, Waterfall Cave. Our guide had warned us that this one would be wet and low so we all changed and got on our hands and knees. This is what I thought caving would be like the whole time, crawling around stalactites in water and snake-crawling on my belly. I never felt so enclosed that I couldn’t move but in this cave I definitely hit my head on the ceiling while squirming around on my belly in inches of fresh water. My knees and elbows took a beating but it was a great time. The waterfall itself was a bit of a let down, since we arrived at the top and it was too big to climb down. Looking over the edge it looked like water falling into an abyss. It was oddly peaceful.

We trekked two and half-hours to the final cave, Christmas Cave. The trek was different than the hiking I’m use to, as it was through bushes and old cornfields. There were no switchbacks so when you see a hill you dig in with your walking stick and climb straight up. Going down is more fun; the grass is very slick so you end up falling and sliding down the hill or grass-surfing, if you can keep your balance. Every once and a while we’d come across scattered villagers cleaning what looked like kidney beans and chewing on betel nut. One viewpoint at the top of a hill gave us a view of the surrounding area straight into Burma. It looked like dense jungle for hundreds of miles. I could easily imagine guerrilla fighters creeping through this area decades ago, in the throws of a war over a powerful, pretty and potent flower.

Christmas in a cave.

The last cave was my favorite. It was named Christmas Cave, we were told, because John discovered it on Christmas morning. But I got the feeling that the color of the cave has something to do with it. The stalactites/mites all look like white lava flow icicles. The entrance to the cave is a long bamboo ladder (“step on the right side, only” our guide told us) that leads onto a rock shelf where you go down another bamboo ladder then slide down a dirt hill into blackness where your guide waits to catch you in the event you don’t stop...cue “Indiana Jones” theme song. This cave was stunning. The white walls twinkled a bit when your light hit them. The giant pillars created a maze you wandered through to different chambers. In the last chamber we all decided to take a moment to turn off our headlamps. The dark is unlike anything I have experienced. I instantly felt dizzy as my eyes searched for a speck of light that didn’t exist. I was standing in a place millions of years old that has never seen sunlight. In those few creepy seconds it felt like nothing existed. (“The horror! The horror!”)

One place I’m sad I didn’t get to visit were the Spirit Caves. These are a mystery that has been plaguing cavers for years. In these so-called ‘Spirit Caves’, teak wood coffins were found placed on stands a few feet above the ground. The coffins were surrounded by bronze and iron tools and bowls and a few glass beads, some beads dating back to the Romans. The tribes call them “Pi Man” coffins, meaning a malicious cave spirit. The oldest coffin dates back to 2,200 years old but most are around 1,700 years old. That’s about 1,000 years before the Thais came to Thailand. No one can find evidence of the civilization these coffins belonged too… 

Fossils!

Burma is to the left...

Mike playing with that stuff from Planet Earth!

This woman had the most weathered hands I've ever seen.

"When I was 30 miles from Myanmar..." Part 1: The Lodge

One 9 hour over-night bus ride, five hours of waiting at a bus station and another five hour van ride through the mountains (more like West Virginia-y foothills) I was dumped on the side of the road in Soppong, Thailand. A bit about that van ride: The Thais can’t drive. Not down a flat top road and certainly not on mountain roads. On thin, windy roads with 200-foot drop offs it is a terrible idea to pass while going around a blind curve. Speeds in excess of 80 mph are uncalled for while hugging the curves of the hills. Imagine being on a five hour roller coaster ride and you’ll have that van ride pictured perfectly. I spent the last three hours of it willing myself not to be sick. (I was stuck in the back of a crammed 13 person van with nothing to puke in, no less. It would not have been pretty.)

Located 30 miles south of the Burma border, Soppong is mostly a way station for tourist headed to the larger mountain town of Mae Hong Song. I arrived in Soppong just as the sun was going down. I stood across the street from the sign that said my lodge was 8k down the road. I walked to the only market area, found a stern looking woman and said “taxi.” We spent about a minute chatting to each other in our separate languages (where I tried to say ‘taxi’ in five different ways) before she picked up the phone and Poof! a man appeared with a motorbike. The ten-minute ride was one of the most beautiful motorbike rides I've ever had. The road sliced through the jungle forest and the chilly mountain mist was forming all around us. And so I arrived to heaven chilled, but feeling great.

Cave Lodge is owned by an Aussie named John who came to Thailand 30 years ago to do some jungle trekking. He fell in love with Thailand, his wife, his wife’s sister and the 200 some caves in the area. The lodge itself looks like it’s been around for 30 years with very few tweaks. Set up against a hill and raised up off the ground, the floorboards shift under your feet and have been patched in places. There is a huge fire pit dominating the center of the common area. There are tables, swings, a ping-pong table, a hammock and a lounge chair made of old tires. The dorms are worn but comfortable and there are bungalows that have been added over the years for those seeking more comfort. As I walked in I noticed the sign by the door that I will always regret never snapping a picture of. It said something like: “For New Years we are constructing a ten foot bamboo lady boy with explosive boobs and a firework stuffed cock which we will erect on the banks of the river then shoot with rockets out of our bamboo cannon. Then the party starts.” I felt at home instantly.

Dorms being cleaned

I arrived just in time for dinner and to meet all the trekkers coming back from their hikes. I was traveling alone but almost immediately I made friends with an Aussie (who was the only other person in the dorms with me) and an American couple who teach in Bangkok. The husband was sporting Rogue gear so I bonded with the two of them very quickly. The people I met were the friendliest I’ve encountered in Thailand. There was an older couple from Denmark, Arnie and Lotta, who didn’t look the wilderness type and I was impressed when they told me all they had accomplished in their trip to Thailand:

The sign says "Water for Fire." They've had some issues with fire.

“We spent so many years traveling to beaches and resorts,” Lotta explained, “that we decided it was time to do more. So we’ve been trekking and rafting and trekking and staying with tribes and exploring caves. But we are headed to the islands after this.”

There was a girl from Singapore who took longs walks every morning:

“I got here a week ago. I was suppose to be here two days but I just keep calling and cancelling all my other plans. Everyday I say ‘I will go today’ but I can’t leave.”

This seems to be a common occurrence. My friend Ben, the optimist lawyer from Texas who wants to change the world (and after talking to him I think he might actually do it) couldn’t remember how long he has been there, exactly. I thought he was actually an employee, since he was always in the kitchen and driving the car and serving food.

“I left, then came back, then left then came back…not sure how long it’s been.

The Lodge

 I spent days talking to these people. My first day was full of caves and spectacular hiking (or trekking, as they call it here). My second day was spent mostly in the hammock, reading John's book about 30 years on the Thai/Burma border during the glory days of the Golden Triangle. I walked along the river and watched John and Ben build the lady boy and took pictures of the villagers. You’ll have to forgive me for gushing about this place and these people, but frankly, I feel madly in love with all of it after my three days. I’ve never felt so good: relaxed, comfortable and adventurous. The atmosphere was beautiful, the staff felt like one big family and they treated you like you were apart of it, the villagers in the area were friendly and curious and I felt peaceful.

Bungalows

At one point while sitting in the hammock this ancient villager came up to me and started swinging my hammock for me. We couldn’t speak to each other but he just smiled at me and started to sway the hammock. He was covered in aged tattoos, which he showed me after he saw my one tattoo, and started laughing while using his hips to rock the hammock. He was so thin I was worried he’s break one of his hips. Then he just walked away.

I’ve been in Thailand almost three months and the only regret I have so far is that I had to leave. 

Building the lady boy

Christmas Carnival

The people of Thailand love Christmas. While it isn’t a religious holiday that doesn't stop them from decorating like crazy for it. As soon as Halloween was over the fake trees and blinking lights came out of storage and were everywhere. But it doesn’t feel like Christmas. It’s too damn hot to be Christmas. And the mood on Christmas Eve was more like a 4^th of July BBQ than the quiet ritual of Christmas. (Which is what I think Christmas is suppose to be like. I can’t remember if our family ever had a quiet Christmas Eve…) My school held something of a carnival for the occasion. Our drive was lined with twinkling lights, toy stands and tons of tables with Thai food and sweets. They spent all day preparing for the festivities and blaring Christmas classics like “Hotel California” and “Thriller.”

At the end of the drive the parking lot was converted into a stage surrounded with cloth covered tables for the parents to sit, eat and watch their kids perform. The kids and the teachers really go all out for these performances. There are two emcees and the children are dressed to the nines in costumes for their number. And they don’t dance to Christmas music; they rock out to horrible Asian pop music, which only makes it better. The parents create a mosh-pit with all their video cameras held high trying to get a piece of the action on tape. I could barely squeeze in to snap some proof that this was, in fact, really how I was spending my Christmas Eve.

Preaw

For our part, the English department was tasked with putting on the very abridged version of “Rudolph.” Our cast of 7 donned brown ninja-esc suits and antlers, Rudolph wore her red nose and stubby antlers and we found the smallest child to wear the Santa suit. I played the part of the narrator. So picture, if you will, me on stage-right with a bunch of Thai reindeer, speaking to hundreds of parents and the owner of the school (front and center, of course) when the microphones all died. I always wanted to know what it would feel like when your standing on a stage with the lights in your eyes and tons of parents with cameras pointed at you and your mic goes dead. Turns out, it’s a bit awkward. Even better, the kids got all confused: first they kept going, then they just stopped and stood there. No one besides Jenna (who was smiling at me from off stage) and I found this funny so no hope in taking a bow and laughing it off. A full minute of awkward smiles later the mics came back on and we finished the play. As I hightailed it off stage the kids lined up to sing the song. And they stood there. For another very long two minutes while the DJ tried to figure out which CD he was suppose to play. But hey, at least I was off stage this time.

The boys doing Muay Thai

Of course, ours was the only rough patch of the program. I stayed to watch my Thai babies dance and run around then promptly evacuated before I had to talk to the owner. After all, I had lots of packing to do before heading 14 hours to northern Thailand, also known as Eden. 

My star student, Pat. She counts to 30 in three languages!