// August 21st, 2009 // No Comments » // Friends of DPUIC, Uncategorized
Chiang Mai
After lunch with work mates, we have to organise my flights to and from Chiang Mai, and after a wild goose chase to locate the purple fronted bank we get ourselves sorted and are shortly afterwards flying north to visit Michel’s family. Kritchaya, and the children Kate and Chris, meet their Daddy with glee at the airport. It is a happy reunion and they welcome me too. We go first to a lovely fish restaurant and snack on several curries and rices and soups and I slurp on a delicious pineapple shake, a delicacy which proves to be one of my favourite treats during the time I am in Thailand. My time in Thailand is in fact not long enough, as I’m only staying until Monday early a.m., 12.55 am I fly out, to be exact.
Michel’s house is a large affair with incredible hard dark brown wooden floors that shine like the moon, and a breeze wafts through the huge windows and spirals up into the high ceilings. This could be a guest house as there is more than one kitchen and lounge areas, and the structures at the entrance to the family’s home may be a school someday. Krichaya’s mother lives in the house, and her sisters live on equally sized plots of adjacent land. I am given a large bed in one of the three spare rooms, and I sleep like a child that first night.
I am to spend two cosy days with Michel’s family, and the first day they take me to a temple and an orphanage—all in one place, a charismatic monk has almost single-handedly set up a community for orphans who are cared for by monks and supported purely by private donations. We enter a room with more gods than I thought possible, a large room decorated with every type of icon imaginable: Theravada Buddhism allows many gods and does not favour in the same way Western religions do, leading to a carefully colourful and open haven for the spiritual. I am not particularly spiritual, but I kneel with Michel and his family anyway, before the monk who is postured nicely in the lotus position beneath a gold Buddha statue that looks very much like himself. The gentleman cools himself with a gilded fan and sometimes seems to be hiding his face: it is a kind face, a face that you immediately trust.
People in the queue before us offer various gifts to the monk, and they are collected by orphans quickly as they are the ones who will immediately benefit from the food and toys that are given. When it’s our turn, Krichaya, or Mrs Michel Bauwens, kneels before the monk and says a few things in Thai. At some point he addresses me and apparently has said: you are a calm person, an adaptable person, and you will be very lucky, as you can do anything you want. I took that as a compliment. Then the monk asked whether I have any students who might like to stay at the orphanage for a summer at a time, teaching and playing with the children, influencing them positively and so on. I did not give a final answer but he gave me his phone number. I don’t know whether I will ever telephone his orphanage, I hope I do because the work he is doing is incredible, and it was a good way to spend an afternoon.
We fit in time for some internet-ting, and in the same area of the city, I go for a Thai massage. This is the first time I have had this pleasure, and a pleasure it is. Thai ‘yoga massage’ is a method wherein the practitioner practically walks all over you. She started with my left leg and located the line of nerves along the bone, so you can say it was nerve racking but also very relaxing. Particularly as I have had problems with my right leg recently this was a wonderful treat. It cost 180 baht which is the equivalent of about £3. I begin to understand how so many travellers come here, and stay here. It is a very relaxed, happy, and affordable place.
Then we head to meet Krichaya’s family at a restaurant complete with karaoke machine, by the Ping River. We met a Dutch banker there who wanted to sing ‘I did it my way’, as well as to talk about his general aspirations in his work and life in Thailand. The merriment of singing and drinking would have apparently lasted until the early hours, except that Michel spoke sense as he wanted time with his kids before we flew back the following day. We sang several karaoke songs (yes, Michel sang too) and had wonderful food. Finally we headed back to the family’s home.
Chiang Mai Day 2
Time was escaping too quickly, and the next day, we had to choose ways to spend time carefully. First we went for a very nice Western breakfast at Bake and Best, which is a bamboo shaded patio restaurant, and we feasted on pancakes, eggs, muesli, yoghurt, coffee, toast: more American food than I have ever seen in one place in the UK! After this locationally confused but sumptuous meal, I set off to spend the day with Michel and his family, and we visited another temple. This time we visited the temple of the white elephant which happens to be on top of a very high mountain: one motorcyclist had stopped alongside the road with obvious motion sickness as the road is very windy and steep. Apparently the Buddha had been riding a white elephant up the mountain, and at some point the elephant grew too tired to walk, and chose a particular place to rest. The spot was thus blessed, and the temple was built in the spot where the elephant had rested. We wandered around the beautiful temple and looked at the countless statues of Buddhas and other gods. Worshippers carry sticks with lotus flowers on the end of them, lit incense, rang bells, and generally the feeling of spirituality and harmony prevail. The children buy wind up butterflies and munch on papaya, it’s a great day.
Later, after Michel has been ferried to the barbers and I have apparently impressed Krichaya’s mother by becoming the Cat Whisperer, i.e. through becoming friends with the most stand-offish cat of the litter (there are three cats and three dogs, last count). This short haired white kitty with sparkling blue eyes nuzzels up to me for hours and of course sits down directly on the Herald Tribune I have been reading. A cat is a cat, in Chiang Mai, Manchester, Seoul, you name it, and the cat will choose to sit on exactly what you are reading. End of story.
After the return of newly shaven Michel and his wonderful wife, we head to the restaurant where apparently they traditionally eat on the way to the airport upon Daddy’s exit. Daddy (Michel) travels a lot for work, and so they value the time they can spend together. At this particular restaurant we gorged on yet more amazing fish, chunks of which are lightly battered and tempura fried, with an array of mountain herbs and vegetables, Asian basil, flavoured with tamarind and other exotic accents. I have a fresh lemon drink and delight in the amazing papaya salad, as well as a spicy chicken soup with more coconut and lemongrass and all the marvellous flavours that addict the pallet.
I don’t want to leave, but the time has come, and after many good-byes to Michel’s wife and kids, we board the flight. Michel has promised to take me to the river of Bangkok so I can see some of the city, though it is a gigantic city and we aren’t sure how to exploit and maximise our limited remaining time. We opt for a ‘peki peki’ ride (this is what we called this type of boat in Peru, not sure what it’s called in Thailand) down the river, and see many of the buildings that make Bangkok the fine specimen of a southeast Asian city that it is.
Thailand reminds me of Peru in so many ways. I can’t really describe how but it just feels similar—a lot of poverty is evident but people just seem to get on with their lives and deal with it, or am i just a foreigner who will never know the inside story? Thai language sounds like singing to me, and the dialect of Chiang Mai is more guttural and seems to be even higher in tones than the southern. I kept getting confused with the money as I haven’t used baht before, I felt quite young in some ways, like a regression to another age wherein I had to rely on others, and rely on others I did. Michel and his family were wonderful to me, adopting me like I was one of them. This was a weekend of fresh new experiences as well as warmth and compassion that I was shown, I would go back in a heartbeat!”
