Tag Archives: Writing

Travel Guide: Chiang Mai

Thanks to Singapore’s elections on Friday, we had a three-day weekend! I hadn’t been out of Singapore since arriving at the end of July, which means I’d been in the same city for about seven weeks. When’s the last time that happened? The haze coming up to Singapore from Indonesia meant, and continues to mean, that we haven’t seen the sun in a couple weeks (and can hardly see clearly at all, for that matter), the kids have been cooped up inside during break times in a space not large enough to accommodate all of them, the air constantly smells like something’s burning (because it is . . . thanks, Indonesian palm oil companies . . .), and just breathing has become a chore. All in all, a great weekend to get out of Singapore.

Before I left Malaysia, I knew I wanted to visit Chiang Mai. Mitch and I had a whirlwind of a weekend in Bangkok about a year ago (here is the blog post about that) and I haven’t made it back to Thailand since. This weekend’s visit to Chiang Mai, because of the day off on Friday, gave me ample time to explore not only the city, but also an elephant reserve nearby. The 400 photos I took on this trip (no kidding) basically fall into two categories: temples and elephants. I have done my best to sift through the photos and I’ve tried really hard not to saturate this blog post with too many images of the same thing. Enjoy! And if you want more pictures, let me know. I have them.

Firstly, orientation. Chiang Mai is located in northern Thailand, which means there was sun, clean air, and mountains. The old city is surrounded by a moat (Chiang Mai dates to the 12th century) and there’s access through a couple gates.

The main gate into/out of the old city of Chiang Mai
The main gate into/out of the old city of Chiang Mai

Much of Chiang Mai is made up of clusters of multi-story buildings with businesses on the bottom and who knows what on the upper floors. More than a few were brightly colored, like these:

Colorful buildings 1 Colorful buildings 2

I also spotted a few examples of colorful graffiti. It amuses me that there are words presumably written in English, but I still can’t read them. This is also the case with graffiti that I’ve seen and photographed in English-speaking countries, so I suppose it isn’t a surprise.

Graffiti 1 Graffiti 2

The shrines that dot Chiang Mai were no less colorful. In every city I’ve been to in Asia, it’s normal to find shrines outside, inside, on street corners, in parking lots, inside business, near homes. I loved the motorcycle parked right next to this one:

Shrine on the street

After dropping my trusty purple duffel bag at the hotel (since I was traveling alone, I figured I’d treat myself), my first stop was just down the street to the Lanna Folklife Museum, where I learned about the Lanna kingdom of ancient Thailand and their distinct culture. It took me about an hour to go through the whole thing, and I highly recommend it for a historical overview, especially if you’re unfamiliar with Buddhism.

I took a picture of exactly one artifact at the museum:

How cool is this?!
How cool is this?!

Just across the street is the Three Kings Monument, which I could see from my hotel.

Three Kings Monument

After getting my bearings (and getting slightly lost on the way) I began my tour of Chiang Mai’s temples. For the most part, I have no idea which of the dozens of temples I saw. It doesn’t matter because they’re all just names to me. I went inside many of them, leaving my shoes with the others at the entrance. Thailand is understandably strict about respectful attire when entering temples (explicit signs indicate in many languages and many pictures indicate what is and is not acceptable). There’s often nothing to borrow from friendly devotees at the entrance because the temples are simply open to the public for prayer. I have a few dresses and skirts that cover my knees; I keep a light scarf for my shoulders in my bag at all times when traveling in Asia. You never know when it will come in handy!

The gallery of photos below comes from two days of walking through Chiang Mai and popping in and out of temples. I did a lot more of this than I think I would have if I were traveling with a buddy. But since I wasn’t, I did a lot of meandering (read: getting lost) and meandering means finding temples.

Just a quick comment on the temple in the photos below. I’ve seen a lot of temples in my travels, but never one made of wood. It honestly reminded me more of Norway’s stave churches than of a Buddhist temple.

IMG_0355 IMG_0359

And to compare, here’s a stave church in Norway:

Not a temple! A stave church!
Not a temple! A stave church!

I tend to write a lot when I spend time alone, and time alone while traveling is no exception. I also pause for more tea and coffee breaks than I would otherwise, perhaps because I spend less time lingering over meals. In Chiang Mai, though, my break beverage alternated between iced coffee and Thai iced tea, which is quite possibly the most delicious of beverages.

Case in point.
Case in point.

Based on a recommendation from a friend, I chose Elephant Nature Park for Saturday’s all-day trip to visit elephants. The park is a reserve for 70+ elephants who range in age from babies to about 80 years old. Some of the elephants were brought to the park when they got too old to work or when industries using them were shut down, but most of them were rescued from logging operations, circuses, and street performances. Our guide, Pur, told us about each of the elephants that we met. She was incredibly knowledgeable about each elephant’s story as well as how its current family group formed. It is amazing how elephants, much like people, form families.

While most of the day was devoted to watching them interact, we got to feed and bathe the elephants, too! Pur allowed us to pet some of the gentle giants but kept us away from the ones the she called “not nice.” Every so often, the elephants would get upset or agitated and the mahouts (handlers) would shout at the visitors to get out of the way. Over the course of the day, Pur also told us about the various injuries and abuses that many have endured. More than a few elephants were blind and had misshaped or deformed limbs from stepping on landmines. There was also a gallery at the reserve devoted to photos of elephants before and after surgery and rehabilitation.

In addition to elephants, Elephant Nature Park is also home to over 400 dogs and cats, many of which are up for adoption. Most of the dogs, at least, were strays in Bangkok once upon a time. They followed the elephants around as they pleased and were constantly looking for love from visitors. The park itself is staffed by about 200 people; this week, about 70 of those were volunteers. It was a wonderful day, complete with transit to and from the park and a delicious vegetarian lunch. I can’t say enough good things about supporting this organization.

And then there’s the fact that Elephant Nature Park is simply beautiful. It was a marvelous change of pace (and air quality) from hazy Singapore.

One of my favorite parts of traveling is meeting people. I’m still in touch with someone Mitch and I met in Langkawi about a year ago. That was our very first Southeast Asian trip!

People tend to meet through shared experiences, and Elephant Nature Park was no exception. Two girls and I made plans to meet up to visit the Night Bazar and go for dinner. We ate at a food court, which was cheap and delicious. While there, I couldn’t help but notice the sign below, which reminded me that the world has a long way to go. Travellers with disabilities will most certainly encounter difficulties when visiting Asia.

Upside: They have recognized that people in wheelchairs go out in public. Downside: Sigh. We're getting there.
Upside: They have recognized that people in wheelchairs go out in public.
Downside: Sigh. We’re getting there.

After the Night Bazar, when we were done looking through the regular tourist trap kitsch that feature at many markets, we went out to a very chill rooftop bar with a rasta vibe. I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant when I heard about it, but the decor clarified very succinctly.

Please don't be surprised at the name. Asia doesn't do subtlety very well.
Please don’t be surprised at the name. Asia doesn’t do subtlety very well.

P1050294 P1050298

The highlight of Sunday, my last day in Chiang Mai, was a river cruise along the Ping River. It was a dreary day but the wonderful people of the Scorpion Tailed River Cruise (basically the Sam Patch of Chiang Mai!) were very gracious and gave me a private tour! The ancient Thai man who acted as the tour guide is also, I suspect, the owner of the entire operation. Part of the tour included time off the boat to taste tropical fruits and smell local herbs in his garden. The experience was expensive by Thai standards but a really nice way to learn about Chiang Mai’s history from (literally) a very different angle.

River travel used to be the way people got around. That has changed, but there are no metered taxis in Chiang Mai. The best way to get from point A to point B without a private car is by a red sorng-tau-oo, basically a shared taxi, or tuk tuk, a private taxi.

Tuk tuk

Thanks, Chiang Mai! Thailand, see you again in a month!

Leaving on a Jet Plane

On Thursday, Mitch and I will begin our adventure to Malaysia. Never in a million years did I think I’d be heading there, of all places. When I first learned about the job in Malaysia, I had to find the country on a map. That’s embarrassing because I teach Global History. I knew it was in Southeast Asia and I knew it was near Thailand. I didn’t know part of Malaysia shares islands with Indonesia. Now I do. And now we’re going.

Fittingly, I think, this is last post on my Journey Through 365 Photos blog. I started blogging in May 2012 as a way to cope with uncertainty and change. I kept it going because I learned that I really liked photography and I really liked writing for eyes other than my own.

Since those activities are still a lot of fun, I’m going to continue this blog in a new format. In the next day or so, I will change my blog’s title, theme, and URL. (At least, I plan to change the URL. We’ll see if it works.) Hopefully you’ll join me and Mitch on our upcoming adventures!

THANK YOU to those who have followed my 365 Photos adventure, and to those who continued to follow my regular life once that year ended. It has been a pleasure sharing my thoughts, photos, and days with you. See you on the other side of the world by way of a newly-formatted WordPress blog.

Over and out.

Inventory of Being

Today was one of the nicest days that we’ve had in the last many months, so I went for a delightful walk around the neighborhood, both to avoid doing schoolwork and to brainstorm blog posts. I had a few thoughts: take a picture, talk about a really funny article from The Onion that I came across, write a letter to a friend who just moved away.

Somehow, those ideas led me to dig through the files on my computer to find a poem that I wrote for AP Literature and Composition my senior year of high school. The teacher who assigned the poem is now a colleague (she started her career in the school where I currently teach, got a new job at my alma mater, and returned to her first school after “retiring” the year I graduated), and I know that she still gives this assignment to her students. I don’t actually remember sitting down to write it, but I used it as a supplemental writing sample when I applied to college.

What’s this poem, you ask? Good question. An inventory of being is a poem in which one tries to explain oneself through a series of statements and/or using prescribed sentence starters, which is how my teacher assigned it. My inventory of being, written when I was a high school senior, is pasted below (the original formatting looked a little better different but WordPress doesn’t always like Word formatting):

Inventory of Being: Internalizing My Own

My name is Rebecca Michelle Elias Stein. I was named after my father’s grandmother, my mother’s grandfather, and I have my mother’s maiden name as well as my own last name, though I never actually use it. People usually call me Rebecca or Becca, but my dad calls me Bec and a friend calls me Reb. As long as people use my name, it doesn’t matter to me.

The thing I do best is listen when people need to talk.

I especially like people who do not judge others without first getting to know them.

I feel the best about myself when I’m sweating and sore after a dance class. I feel like I’ve accomplished something and that I’m ready for something to happen.

I am happiest when I’m with people who I love and who love me. There’s a certain amount of comfort in knowing that I’m with people who care.

Maybe that’s why my favorite line from a song is, “It’s not always rainbows and butterflies, but compromise that moves us along.” “She Will Be Loved” by Maroon 5 is my guilty pleasure.

I shudder to remember how much I hated my dad when he and my mum separated, and now that they’re back together, I shudder to think about how good that separation period truly was for my family.

My greatest fear is losing my family. They’ve taught me the vast majority of what I know and made me who I am and I don’t know how I’d wake up in the morning without knowing I have their unconditional love. I need to love them and I need to know that I am loved.

If I could wish for anything, I’d wish for world peace. I have wished, actually, but I have yet to see it.

If I could change the world, I’d make it as close to perfect as I could without people taking everything for granted. But I can’t change the world and make it nearly perfect because that would involve changing the minds of all the people in the world, and there will always be those who are immovable and who halt new ideas, ideas that could work. So I suppose I ought to settle for working to protect human rights, but I’ve never been good at settling.

My favorite spot on Earth is a comfy chair with a good book and maybe a cup of tea.

My favorite movie is Titanic. There’s something beautiful about a love story that will never
happen.

My favorite memory consists of spending a night with six amazing people I’ve known since I was very young. Those six people and I do not attend the same school, nor do we have the same goals or participate in the same activities. But what we have in common is our fierce, intense, unrestricted, ceaseless love for one another.

The motto my which I live my life is something Sting said: “You have to be yourself. Be very honest about who and what you are. And if people still like you, that’s fine. If they don’t, that’s their problem.”

When people ask for advice, I have an answer. Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers), chapter 1, verse 14: “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And if I care only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?”

I wish I knew why Leonardo da Vinci wanted the Mona Lisa to be enigmatic. I wonder if some people see me as enigmatic? Is it a good or bad thing to be enigmatic? Or is it neither a good nor bad thing, and merely is?

My favorite holiday is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. I cannot think of a more appropriate way to start off a new year than being in synagogue, surrounded by family, friends, and all the people who I have grown up with and who have watched me grow up, praying for a good year not only for myself, but for everyone, because Jews always pray in the plural. And then there’s a meal, always at my house, with my family and some family friends. I can look around the table and know, without a shard of doubt, that should I ever need it, these are the people who will be there for me, now and always.

The nicest thing that ever happened to me was when a Holocaust survivor came up to me at my Bat Mitzvah, showed me the tattoo on his arm, thanked me for attending Hebrew School, and told me to always believe.

I do.

Rereading this poem makes me smile at my 17-year-old self. There’s a lot she knew, and even more that she didn’t. She was idealistic, happy, excited about being part of the world and ready to change it. She knew where she stood, who she was, and why she mattered. The joy with which that 17-year-old lived is still presently, vibrantly, energetically part of who I am and what I do. If I were to rewrite that poem, there would certainly be some changes, but there are also large parts that would remain the same. I still recognize the girl I was when I wrote that poem; I’m glad for the experiences that I’ve had and have grown from them, but that girl is quintessentially the same.

Maybe a rewritten inventory of being will be the subject of a future post. Weigh in if you have a thought about that!