Up early, although the Minivan to pick me up was late. Took me to where a giant bus was waiting. Yuck. Oh well. At least its comfortable and I have a seat to myself. The drive out is long, and I end up in a conversation with two woman, a mother and her daughter, from Barcelona. Lovely people. The first stop is an elephant ranch. I dont like these places because of the way the animals are trained, and, sure enough, each trainer has a baton with a large metal hook at the end. The show is typical, and boring. Except the art. Some of these elephants are pretty good at drawing and painting. I had heard that about elephants, and was able to watch a couple at work. That was enjoyable. Then its time to ride them. It was okay, but not what I came for. After the elephant ride we got to ride in an ox cart. Not exactly a Cadillac. Finally we get on a bamboo raft and flat down river, for quite a ways actually. This was enormously pleasant, smooth, relaxing and scenic. Best part of the day so far. About a thirty minute ride. Nice. At the end of the ride, our bus is waiting. Only a small portion of the bus is actually going to see the long-necked women; the rest are booked for an orchid and butterfly farm. We get dropped off first, and have to hike 1/2 Km m to the hillside village where the Karen live. Originally from Burma, many of them fled during the Civil War, and crossed the border into Thailand. Not exactly welcomed here, they stayed to themselves. Going back to Burma was certain death, and they were, for the longest time, personae non grata in Thailand. The king himself finally created a couple of areas for them and someone finally realized what a treasure they were. There are only about 500 of them in Thailand. The story is told that centuries ago several Karen women were grabbed by the neck by tigers and dragged into the jungle. The rings, allegedly, are for protection from tigers, as well as a mark of beauty. The rings do not actually lengthen the neck; they actually force the shoulders down, giving the appearance of a longer neck. Back in the late 1950s or so, I saw their picture in a National Geographic and knew I would have to see them someday. That day came, fifty some odd years later, when I walked into that village. It was both a wonderful and sad moment: coming to see them via tourist bus is not the way I had envisioned this, but it was the only viable method at this time. Their culture had been reduced, at least in Thailand, to that of a carnival side show/swap meet. You are compelled to buy something to take their picture, and everyone of them is selling the same stuff. Some nice woven stuff and a bunch of crap souvenirs. I had my picture taken with a few of them: one my age with a really long neck, one my daughters age (24), and another who was thirteen. They were most attractive, regardless of the neck rings, and pleasant to be around. I would love to come alone and hang on my own time. This was rush, rush, rush. Next time will be my way. Promise to myself. Ride back was horribly long and guess who the last person dropped off just happened to be. Supposed to be back by 5:00, it was nearer to 8:00 by the time I got to my hotel. Tired, hungry, dirty, but strangely satisfied as I look at the pictures. It actually happened!
Posted on: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 14:15:08 +0000
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