Elephants and bamboo

Day two of our trek was mostly downhill, which destroys my knees. Once the landscape evened out, we found ourselves traversing what in a few months will be tall with rice. Terraces cut into the land, rice means sustenance for the villagers. They don't sell it but live off it, enough from the field usually to feed all the families. Along the way, Bun and I picked young ferns. It's a local veggie eaten there usually with sticky rice.

We made it to Bun's home village in time for lunch. His village is big, lots of families, lots of chickens, dogs, cats, pigs, water buffalo. They have a school here, too. And all the animals roam the village, the river, under houses. Carlston got trapped at one point on the road in front of a group of water buffalo, pinned by a fence. A guy on a moto came honking by and got them moving lucky for him.

Our lunch was a noodle soup, breakfast eggs and toast. After eating came the showcase of local goods. Much less variety than our first stop and nothing different. I fear, however, that a purchase is required of us. The attitude is less of sharing culture or discussing the crafts but of giving up money. When something is expected it's much harder for me to comply. It's difficult at times, traveling, but is perhaps the least price we could pay. Supporting those with close to nothing. Sometimes, though, you feel like roadkill on the side of the highway soon to be discovered wounded or dead, lying in wait for that first bite to be ripped from your carcass.

We rode elephants in the afternoon through the forest and across the river. What a creature! Perched on her back, we rocked side to side as she maneuvered the landscape. We were 3 on one elephant, Carlston, the guide and I; JP and his guide on the other. His guide had an implement, a wooden handle with a large metal hook. JP said his guide hooked his elephant in the eye when she deviated from course. She would screech, too, a sound I've never heard from an elephant. I thought he was pulling on her ear, which seems far better than eye. Their skin is so thick. Meanwhile, every chance she got, our elephant took a snack. She uprooted saplings and tore down bunches of bamboo. From behind, elephants move like large, shapely women. Slow and steady and rhythmic.

After the elephant ride, we floated down the Mae Tang river on a bamboo raft. Bamboo poles our oars, our raft was 11 poles of bamboo wide. Remarkably, it didn't sink with the four of us on it and all of our backpacks!

A bit like Apocalypse Now, we arrived at the next village, the Langhu tribe at dusk. We ate dinner, among it snake soup, and I tried the local rice whiskey. Not bad, not bad. Sure beats moonshine! The stars were out last night and beautiful, so we built a fire and stargazed. Later, I sat in the owners' quarters and sang songs. Hotel California, The Winds of Change. Nothing like a little Scorpions to bring people together. The owner played guitar. He and his wife have been married since 19 and 17, respectively, are 37 and 35 now and had one daughter a year after marriage. What a fun diversion from my daily life. Let's be honest. When was the last time I sang anything by the Scorpions?