| Monday, January 15, 2007 |
| Jungles and farmland |
 I rode an elephant at last! I gripped Erica's arm the whole time, and was happy that I didn't get thrown off in a freak stampede. I used the above picture in class today to talk about winter holiday, but was shown up by an elementary schooler who had ridden an ostrich. Who does that, really? There is an ostrich farm right in my town, and your only other wildlife-viewing option is the caged boars at the gravestone-carving shack by my house, but I didn't know you could ride them. To her credit, she's like 3 feet tall, and weighs as much as the 3000yen ostrich eggs sold at the farm stand, but that's still quite brave and much more exotic. Maybe I know why the caged boar grunts... it's jealous that the ostriches get all the attention.
The ride was quite slow, but the best part was fording the river, upon an elephant eye-deep with its trunk in the air. If you imagine the elephants to be oxen, it felt very Oregon Trail, minus the cholera and diphtheria. Our elephant was the only one with tusks, and had a habit of uprooting small trees as we went, which caused the guide to yell and smack little Stampy in the head with a metal hammer thing. We started out first and got passed by every single other zou-san. Embarassing!
The subsequent bamboo raft ride was an exercise in sadism for the guides. Whenever there was a turn in the river, a tree, or a section of rapids, the guides would either purposely guide you into them, or not be of any use to change the raft's trajectory. After the first crash, I realized that whenever you saw the motorboat stopped with a guide running the videocamera, you were about to get hurt. So, you either pole like hell to avoid the obstacle (which never worked), or you pre-empted injury by falling to your knees. When I thought we were finished, our guide maliciously rammed the raft into a rock right at the end, and I scraped up my entire leg and got a bruise that has only just faded. Jerk! (Or to quote Michael: "How do you say 'annoying jerk' in British?" "Um... bloody wanker?") This never would have happened on the Oregon Trail.
 To get to where the elephants roam, we went on a very early boat through the misty morning. The "old" Sangkhlaburi town was flooded years ago in order to create a reservoir, but there are still a few remnants visible, such as this temple. We also saw the bridge that crosses from the Thai to the Mon (a hill tribe) side of town.
 That night, Abijiit gave us a full tour of the grounds and talked about plans. He works with Baan Unrak full-time, and wants to become a Dada and start a home of his own. He has a wife in the Philippines who hopes to become a Didi in the future. He is fascinating and knows nearly everything about anything. On the land surrounding the home, he has created an elaborate farming system, with tiered gardens to account for the wash-out rainy season, irrigation plans, medicinal herbs, vegetables, flowers, trees, and lots of reasons for everything being the way it is. He wants to have a meditation retreat area with simple guesthouses, but that is a few years down the line if it happens.
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posted by Raychaa @ 11:37 PM  |
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| So wrong it's right. And then wrong. And then wrong again... welcome to the inaka. |
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Name: Raychaa
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About Me: “No man, not even a doctor, ever gives any other definition of what a nurse should be than this - 'devoted and obedient'. This definition would do just as well for a porter. It might even do for a horse. It would not do for a policeman.” (Florence Nightingale)
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