I have been gone from my home for nine months. I think to myself, what is home and I no longer have an answer to this question. Tom Waits once said, "Wherever, I lay my head is home" which has a drifter connotation. But in the truest sense, I am my own home, as I carry my internal sense of peace and security.
This is an ending of sorts. But life has many endings.
This is also a beginning. Life has many beginnings. I once was a seed and I planted myself deep in the soil of Israel. But the ground must be ready to receive you. I struggled and I grew, but so slowly. My tendrils unfurled, cautiously now; fearing that they would not receive either the sun or the rain that they would need to grow.
So I transplanted myself in Thailand, to challenge myself even more. There was too much sun and my tendrils withered. There was too little water and my roots shrank. I shook all growth from my body, in order to sustain myself. Like an Israeli transplant, I sought protection with thorns. I grew strong in harsh conditions. However, when the rains came at last, I was ready to receive them. The frogs gathered around to rejoice, and sing throughout the night to herald the first rain.
I was a seed and I went to plant myself, to see what fruits I would bear. Let us not name the fruit; let us not dissect it, for it quality and taste. Let us not discuss its value. It is not about the yield; it is about the path.
Life has many endings. I was a seed, but I have grown. I was a seed which grew into a tree, which bore fruits and these fruits fell to the ground. So that the ground will remember it.
Life has many beginnings. I am a seed. I will plant myself, perhaps in Boston. Wherever I lay my head is home. May the soil be ready to receive me.
Thursday, 20 May 2010
Thursday, 13 May 2010
Playing in Pai
It was 40 degrees celsius in the shade. The heat was so powerful it drove most of the country inside. Except for me. I was volunteering on a permaculture site, called Panya Project in the north of Thailand. For more than a month, it was a happy home for me. If you are interested in intentional communities, mud building, mud ovens, nurseries and fruit forests, it might be a happy home for you as well.
However, at this moment in time, I was roasting despite the cover of mango trees and there were not enough coconut shakes to cool me down. I sought relief in a renowned artist community called Pai.
This was to be my last adventure in Thailand and I was rapidly running out of funds. The farm is near Mamelay Market, in Mae-Tang. From Mamelay Market, one can take an air-conditioned bus for 150 baht. I decided to put my complete trust in Thai people, and their hospitality. Instead, I hitchhiked to Pai. Thailand is filled with two types of vehicles: motorbikes and flat bed trucks. My first consisted of a Thai family, who picked me up and let me jump in their trunk. They dropped me off at a bus station near a fruit stand. I waited twenty minutes or more, in the noon sun while a mild panic arose with in me. I watched many buses pass by me, but I was determined to test my ability to hitchhike on my own. Eventually, I was picked up by a car with two men, I hesitated once I stepped inside. Despite, our language limitations, they were beyond friendly to me, as we made our treacherous way up to Pai.
The rode to Pai is not for those with fear in their heart. It winds and curves, and there is competition between the two lanes. I held my breath with each passing truck. After two hours, my ride dropped me off in the center of town. I did not feel picky about where to stay, so I walked to the first guest house, Duang on the main road. The guest house was plain but cheap. My room was 100 baht per night, which fit my budget exactly.
I had arrived in Pai, after Songkran which is the Water Festival or New Year. The town had an empty feeling, like a revelry after all the guests have gone and left their mess behind. I walked about the small village, hidden in the mountainside during the middle of the day. I discovered, I had not flown from the heat but walked directly back into it. The paved road, and lack of trees in the center of town is not welcoming for a mid day stroll.
For a brief moment, I was worried that Pai might be another tourist town. While it was surrounded by lushness, there were the usual clothing, jewelry and other miscellaneous Thai goods, that can be found throughout the country. I had also overhead unsettling exchange between two Westerners. Upon meeting each other, one exclaimed to the other, "Wait, didn't we meet each other in Kao San Ro," which is another tourist street in Bangkok. I was worried that all us Westerners were simply following each other all over Thailand, without really interacting with the country. I retired to my guesthouse, to improve my outlook and wait out the heat.
Around sunset, I re-emerged from my guest house and watched from a rickety bridge as the sun descended over the river. On the bridge, I met a lovely woman from Chile. We struck an immediate friendship and together we explored all that Pai has to offer.
That night, we dined on twenty baht pad Thai noodles on the side of the road. And later still, we enjoyed some Thai beer, while sharing stories. Later still, I left my new friend to explore bars on my own. I fell in with a group of Israelis boys, fresh out of the army and bent on exploring the East. One of them taught me how to drive a automatic bike and for this I am forever grateful.
Pai confirmed for me something that I have suspected for a long time. It is not wise to visit waterfalls in Thailand during the dry seasons. You will only end up seeing trickle falls at best, and dry rock beds at worst. Together, my Chilean friend and I rented a manual motorbike, luckily I had learned to drive it the night before, and we rode up and down those dangerously winding roads. The beautiful view of the country side still made it worth the while.
At night time, we sought out the many bars, hoping for some good music. We stumbled across too many empty bars, playing reggae music, even though their flyers had promised live jams. I went to the Bee Bop club two nights in a row, to hear a seven player blues and reggae ensemble. On my last night, we visited the Edible Jazz, where we met a variety of locals and traveling westerners. The atmosphere was so friendly that it made me want to spend just one more night in Pai.
Alas, it was not to be. I took a non air-conditioned bus ride back to the Mamelay Market, which I do not recommend. From there I hitchhiked back to the farm…But that is another story altogether.
However, at this moment in time, I was roasting despite the cover of mango trees and there were not enough coconut shakes to cool me down. I sought relief in a renowned artist community called Pai.
This was to be my last adventure in Thailand and I was rapidly running out of funds. The farm is near Mamelay Market, in Mae-Tang. From Mamelay Market, one can take an air-conditioned bus for 150 baht. I decided to put my complete trust in Thai people, and their hospitality. Instead, I hitchhiked to Pai. Thailand is filled with two types of vehicles: motorbikes and flat bed trucks. My first consisted of a Thai family, who picked me up and let me jump in their trunk. They dropped me off at a bus station near a fruit stand. I waited twenty minutes or more, in the noon sun while a mild panic arose with in me. I watched many buses pass by me, but I was determined to test my ability to hitchhike on my own. Eventually, I was picked up by a car with two men, I hesitated once I stepped inside. Despite, our language limitations, they were beyond friendly to me, as we made our treacherous way up to Pai.
The rode to Pai is not for those with fear in their heart. It winds and curves, and there is competition between the two lanes. I held my breath with each passing truck. After two hours, my ride dropped me off in the center of town. I did not feel picky about where to stay, so I walked to the first guest house, Duang on the main road. The guest house was plain but cheap. My room was 100 baht per night, which fit my budget exactly.
I had arrived in Pai, after Songkran which is the Water Festival or New Year. The town had an empty feeling, like a revelry after all the guests have gone and left their mess behind. I walked about the small village, hidden in the mountainside during the middle of the day. I discovered, I had not flown from the heat but walked directly back into it. The paved road, and lack of trees in the center of town is not welcoming for a mid day stroll.
For a brief moment, I was worried that Pai might be another tourist town. While it was surrounded by lushness, there were the usual clothing, jewelry and other miscellaneous Thai goods, that can be found throughout the country. I had also overhead unsettling exchange between two Westerners. Upon meeting each other, one exclaimed to the other, "Wait, didn't we meet each other in Kao San Ro," which is another tourist street in Bangkok. I was worried that all us Westerners were simply following each other all over Thailand, without really interacting with the country. I retired to my guesthouse, to improve my outlook and wait out the heat.
Around sunset, I re-emerged from my guest house and watched from a rickety bridge as the sun descended over the river. On the bridge, I met a lovely woman from Chile. We struck an immediate friendship and together we explored all that Pai has to offer.
That night, we dined on twenty baht pad Thai noodles on the side of the road. And later still, we enjoyed some Thai beer, while sharing stories. Later still, I left my new friend to explore bars on my own. I fell in with a group of Israelis boys, fresh out of the army and bent on exploring the East. One of them taught me how to drive a automatic bike and for this I am forever grateful.
Pai confirmed for me something that I have suspected for a long time. It is not wise to visit waterfalls in Thailand during the dry seasons. You will only end up seeing trickle falls at best, and dry rock beds at worst. Together, my Chilean friend and I rented a manual motorbike, luckily I had learned to drive it the night before, and we rode up and down those dangerously winding roads. The beautiful view of the country side still made it worth the while.
At night time, we sought out the many bars, hoping for some good music. We stumbled across too many empty bars, playing reggae music, even though their flyers had promised live jams. I went to the Bee Bop club two nights in a row, to hear a seven player blues and reggae ensemble. On my last night, we visited the Edible Jazz, where we met a variety of locals and traveling westerners. The atmosphere was so friendly that it made me want to spend just one more night in Pai.
Alas, it was not to be. I took a non air-conditioned bus ride back to the Mamelay Market, which I do not recommend. From there I hitchhiked back to the farm…But that is another story altogether.
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