Back in 2002 I took a two week trip through Thailand and Cambodia as a tourist. I learned of a culture I had only read about and envisioned in my mind, when I first heard the Rush song, “Passage to Bangkok”
This is a reprint of an article I wrote for Pilot Guides.com , with larger full size images. I have since learned the tribe is the Akha Tribe and not Hmong as originally noted in the article.
A Day in the Land of Smiles
Driving through the lush green hills of Northern Thailand, Tony the guide and interpreter, would help with pronunciation of various Thai words and teach counting to help pass the time. One can get “Wat’d out” as there are so many Wats to see, so a change of pace would be nice. There are emerald green mountains with rice paddies sprinkled throughout. Each paddy usually has a thatched hut, for shelter from the blazing heat. The paddies are flooded with about 18″ of water and usually separated in four to six distinct parcels about an acre each. The roads are shared with motorcycles, carts, bicycles, cars, everything. It seemed like chaos at first, but is now more of an orderly chaos in my mind. We would drive from one change of scenery to the next. Each corner would bring the beauty of a mountain, jungle, rice paddy or a cow on the side of the road, grazing. On the highway, it is not uncommon to see a farmer, herding his cows in the median as cars drive by at 60-70mph. The cows are usually tethered, however.
I always had a romantic view of what it would be like to go to Thailand and the hill tribes seemed to be the ultimate in this regard. I guess in some ways I had this feeling that the 20th century had not arrived to these far off reaches of society. But with a paved road that goes right up to the village, I found this was not to be. Right before the entrance to the village a rice paddy to the right had some wicked clouds that would soon dump rain on the area and then disappear 15 minutes later.
When we first arrived, we were greeted by a swarming of children. As we got out of the van, the echo of “Ten Baht” could be heard everywhere. They immediately ask for money just for you having the privilege of being in their village. Tony had to do a bit of crowd control. The chatter of “Ten Baht” and “You buy” envelopes your senses and it is extremely frustrating as the romantic ideal of being in a hill tribe village, fades. I really was ready to leave after about ten minutes of the high pitched, pitch for money. Some of the children were selling bracelets made of seeds and/or yarn, which I gladly paid 5 or 10 Baht for. Just to help, without throwing money at the children…. continued at break
