where am I?

This place, without question, is amazing, stunning, peaceful... exactly what I needed. I have no idea where I am. I mean I could tell you that I'm in Pai, that I'm in Thailand--but I don't know, it's all a bit too surreal, like I'm watching this on TV, this isn't my life, is it?

A day in Pai looks like this:
8 AM
It's really chilly. Surprisingly cold since it gets so hot during the day. Under the covers I've created a cocoon of warmth that I never want to leave. I slowly wake, remembering that I'm in Thailand, that I'm on vacation, and I creep from under the covers into the chill wondering what I'll get into today.

9AM
Breakfast in the garden. It's a clear day and it's warm in the sun, but still chilly. I'm wearing a cashmere sweater and long pants. Fruit, tea, some juice.
My teacup tells me how babies are made, I feel enlightened. I smile. Everyone I talk to is smiling.

10AM-Noon
Yoga at Mama's.
Mama is a character. She's a gorgeous sixty-year-old Thai-Indian woman:
with dreads (one that is blue, one that is pink)
who can do full splits (among other freaky human tricks)
who used to be a beer model
who has a 30-year-old son, named Dom who doesn't speak any English, but likes to drink, sleep, eat and smoke
who says the funniest things and has the greatest stories
who likes putting clothing on her pets

After doing like a million sun salutations I'm no longer cold, at all. I'm sweating. I'm doing certain poses I never thought I'd be able to do. I even dare to try a headstand. Mama's "studio" is in her traditional Thai house. It's a bit dark in there, there's cat hair (and smell) all over, but the yoga is cheap, the vibes are way good, and Mama tells stories over a simple lunch after class. I start to think I could do this everyday for the rest of my life.
Sometime after lunch maybe 1ish
Tea time.
Fran and I meet for tea at the same place where we originally met a few days ago. Everyday since then we have sat at the same table, in the same chairs, as if we have assigned seats. We talk about nothing and everything. She understands me like I've known her forever. I paste things in my journal. Today I try a "love potion" tea and she finishes her coffee and and a orange slushy looking dessert, so it looks like it's time for us to check email and the book of face.
At this point in the day, I've lost track of time all together. After that I wander around a bit, lay around next to the river or whatever I feel like: an excursion, shopping, more tea, dinner, reading, a massage, walking around, reading, taking pictures of random ish, and sleeping.

When the sun sets, it's time to put on more clothing. All the sudden the town looks a bit like a ski village. Knit hats with ear flaps, fleece, hot chocolate and nice toasty beverages. Then I go wander and then I go back to my little house and go to sleep. YAY! I love Pai.

hammocks? Where?

There is so much written about hammocks in Pai. It's made to sound like all business is conducted from hammocks and all anyone does is lay around all day. This is one of the two hammocks at Rim Pai Cottage. While there a few here and there, it's nowhere as hammock-oriented as advertised.

Pai by Night: Street Food & Shopping

Pai is chilly at night around this time of the year. It's a nice contrast to the big cities which stay hot and humid night and day, like year-round. Lots of travelers end up arriving in Pai unprepared for the cold, but when the sun goes down the walking street starts to fill up with vendors selling everything from knit hats, to toe socks, to lemon grass tea--so there are plent of ways to warm yourself up.

Here are some of my favorite Pai by night finds:

I was over the moon when I came across a woman selling pumpkin soup. I'd been craving it for a couple of days and it was the perfect thing to warm me up and make me happy.

The process of making these was a bit like the Japanese takoyaki, or the Korean red bean snacks--a creamy looking liquid batter is poured into a heated metal mold, flipped, then removed.

These weren't the most fabulous street food, but I've grown to love anything coconut during this trip as it's fresh and refreshing. These coconut balls were warm, sweet, a bit gooey on the inside and had chopped up little pieces of something that looked like chives or green onions. Strange, yes, but it seemed to work.

The sky at night in Pai is perfect for star gazing. Constellations are easy to identify, but what confused this city girl was the slow moving glowing red "stars"--which turned out to be lanterns. You light a candle and the hot air fills it up like a hot air balloon, and then it floats up to play with the stars. People light them up and make wishes.

the call of the cock

I had the impression that roosters crow only once at dawn. Not true. They crow over and over all morning, throughout the day and even all night, to make sure you're up at all times of the day.

dessert for a goddess

At this cafe, Witching Well, they make gorgeous desserts. I went into a chocolicious coma after eating this mocha tart. It was a deep and moving experience. I'd put it up there with tantric yoga.

Pai Hot Springs

Fran and I jump on the back of motor-taxis. She lives in Cambodia and does this all the time, while smoking a cigarette and chatting on her celly, but this is a completely new thing for me. I find it exhilarating and extremely dangerous, thus a bit scary.

We drive away from town and it's gorgeous. The mountains are stunning. I love the fields. We pass flowering trees--yellow, then magenta. Then we pass elephants, but I think they're sad elephants. I don't like the elephant ride places.
At the hot springs they charge foreigners 200 baht, but admission for Thais is only 40 baht. Not cool. But it's easy to forget all about it quickly because it's so pleasant there.
The signs at there are hilarious. In my opinion, the more messed up the English, the better. The restaurant has sign that tells visitors that it sells FOOD, DRINKS, and EGGS. They made the distinction--eggs don't fit in the food category.
The hot springs are so hot (80° C) you can cook eggs in the water.

The water was REALLY hot, but we found a nice pool to hang out in and chat with a lovely Canadian woman who lives in India. She's living in an ashram and training to be a yoga teacher. It was a fabulous moment, the three of us from three different countries, with experiences from three other Asian countries, vacationing in Northern Thailand.
After an hour we went back to where our motorbike taxis were waiting and scooted back into town.

For more on the outrageous discrimination at the Pai Hot Springs, and what you can do about it, if you care at all, go to allaboutpai.com where there is even an easy to print PDF file to take with you or send to the management.

I'm not a backpacker

Ok. I'm NOT a backpacker. I've tried, but I'm just not. I'm not gonna even try to front.

1. I ditched the backpack and picked up a fun little rollie. It's silver. Yeah, I know, real subtle.

2. I took a plane to Pai. I adore train rides, I don't mind flying, taking taxis around cities are my ultimate vice--I fucking hate buses. I was NOT interested in taking a bus, so I flew.

Actually, the story goes like this. I bought a mini-bus ticket for 200 baht and I was scheduled to leave bright and early from my guest house in Chiang Mai the next morning. I immediately knew I was making a mistake. I thought maybe it will be fun and maybe I'll meet a couple cool people. Then I had this image of being stuck sitting next to a miserable smelly judgmental Western hippie who thinks he's Thai and wants to tell em all about it. So, I decided to stay one more night, get a pedicure, a massage and drink more fruit juice till it was time to go to the airport. I'm so glad I did.

The squat, the sprayer, and other discoveries in the lou

I imagine I'm not the first farang (Thai for foreigner) to walk into a bathroom and say, "You've gotta be kidding me." This bathroom wasn't stinky, I guess that made it worth the 5 baht admission fee, but it was still a squatty. Moreover, it was an elevated squat, with the drain near the wall. This made me wonder which direction to face. Here's the conversation I had with myself:

Me: If I were a bathroom designer, wouldn't it be quite strange for to me to set up the toilet in a way that the user orients themselves towards the wall?

Myself: Yes.

Me: This is completely contradictory to a Korean squat.

Myself: Yes. You're in Thailand.

Me: Good point. No one's watching, so who cares if I squat the wrong way?

As for flushing. See that yellow pail floating in that sink basin? Yup, that's the flush. Fill up the bowl and pour.

Another surprise in the bathroom for me was the spray hose. We used to have one of these in my kitchen before they started making so many of the faucets standard with a detachable spray head function. It was useful for cleaning up the sink or rising off veggies. Never would I have associated it with rinsing off my nether regions. But I dig the idea. If there's a drain in the bathroom then it has a double function, making bathroom cleaning easier.

reminders

At a Buddhist temple yesterday I saw Orangee, the Metropolitician's super smart super cute super cat.
I found a training school, The Ladybird Internatio Kindergarten Nal, where they turn young ladies into fierce DJs.
On the flight into Bangkok the material on the seats was covered in a bunch of tetris pieces, particularly that oh so versatile T-shaped one.

Everywhere I go there are things that remind me of Seoul. I'm supposed to feel like this though, that means my time was significant, that the people I met were interesting and left an impression. I wouldn't want it any other way.

street eats

When I'm visiting a foreign country I'm most fascinated by: grocery stores, toilets, pharmacies, and street food. Bangkok streets are lined with people selling food. The range is huge, from a lady with a few bags of fresh cut mango, to a makeshift restaurant set up on the street with a few workers, tables, etc. I'm usually not bold enough for the food stalls, but I'm always intrigued by small fried things and constantly on the look out for healthy snacks to keep me going while I wander.These fried banana fritter things were awesome. Crunchy on the outside, sweet, warm. These would make for a great winter street snack, of course it's hot and humid, like everyday, but still I think they'd be nice to warm you up a bit and make you happy. Twenty Baht (about 65 cents US) got me far more than I'd ever be able to eat.

Twenty Baht seems to be the going rate for most food on the street. It's like the magic number. Baht comes in 1, 2, 5 and 10baht coins. And then has 20, 50, 100, 500, and 1000 Baht bills. I work in increments of 3 because it's most easiest for conversion in my head. My logic goes like this. Thirty Baht = about one dollar. Anything that's 20 Baht = way cheap, so if it looks at all appealing, why not try it once?

I picked up something that looked like a stick of rice, once again for 20 Baht. I imagined it had a coconut flavor. Nope. No flavor at all. It was basically ddok, the Korean rice cake "dessert" with a few red beans thrown on top. I gave it a try because it wasn't fried and it looked like it might be nice. It was boring. I could have passed on this one.


In the department of healthy street eats there's a lot of fruit in Bangkok. Beautiful tropical fruit; mango, guava, dragon fruit, pineapple, coconut. I can't get enough. Dragon fruit may just replace avocado as world's sexiest fruit.


Pink and green on the outside, white with black seeds scattered throughout on the inside. Gorgeous!