Broken Motorbikes + Chinese New Year | Mae Salong
Adventures in Northern Thailand
Updated January 24, 2020
Mae Salong is nestled in the foothills of Northern Thailand, away from the tourist path, and away from, well, pretty much everything. It is a unique, magical town steeped in history and culture, and it’s one of my favorite places in Thailand so far. The drive (up a very windy two lane road) provided spectacular panoramic views of the mountains and local tea plantations. It’s chilly enough for cherry blossoms to bloom here, and I was lucky enough to catch the tail end of their glory.
This tiny town was founded in the 1960s by former Kuomintang (KMT), or anti-communist rebels, who settled in the area after fleeing China (and being expelled from Burma) following the 1949 Chinese Civil War. In return for asylum, they fought against communist insurgents along the border until the early 80s. They also acquired a sizable share of the booming opium and heroin trade. Today, Yunnanese Chinese refugees still make up 90% of the population and maintain their Yunnan dialect and customs. I happened to be here during the Chinese New, a beautiful coincidence, that ultimately created one of the highlights of my trip. Off-limits to tourists until the early 70s, there is still a sense of isolation to Mae Salong, even today. Slowly a thriving tea industry has replaced the opium trade, and many tea plantations and tea shops (best known for Oolong tea) now dot the countryside.
I decided that if I was going to do learn to motorbike, I might as well really go for it and do it in the mountains. Unfortunately, the rental shop was “out of helmets,” (sorry, mom) so I drove myself to a makeshift basketball court where I got the feel for the bike before setting off into the mountains. When you are traveling alone, you learn to spot other lone travelers, and if you are in the mood for company, you can latch on to each other and make an adventure. This was the case for Gilles and I, a young french guy nearing the end of his 6 month backpacking trip through India, Tibet, and Southeast Asia. Gilles had just set out on a four hour walk, and I was on a mission to cruise backroads, so we exchanged numbers and planned to meet later in the day.
I just kept going and going and going. I must have had a smile permanently plastered on my face as I motorbiked through the countryside, because every time I encountered locals walking along the road, I made them smile. It was pure bliss. I stopped on a side road where I met some Akah Hilltribe women selling their handicrafts. I picked up some gifts for some friends at home, interacting and laughing with the women as I made my purchases and took their photo (showing them the photos in the LCD screen made them erupt in laughter). As a side note, after much research, I’ve opted NOT to do any “Hilltribe Tourism” while in South East Asia. I’ve found there much more authentic ways to interact with these communities. From what I understand, many of the hilltribes in close proximity to Chiang Mai feel like human zoos, and some are perhaps set up and controlled by the government for the sole purpose of tourist-gawking. Please plan your trecking trips and organized tours wisely. I highly recommend Spicy Joe’s trecking trips, which I will talk about in a later entry.
After my motorbiking adventure, Gilles and I headed out for part II together. The adventure started out wonderfully, with Gilles leading the way, and each of us honking our horns when we wanted to stop to take pictures. We planned to watch the sunrise over the mountains and then head to another village where Gilles had promised to return with whiskey for the Chinese New Year. Sometimes things don’t go as planned….
As we were puttering up a steep grade, Gilles stopped to take a picture. Since I did not have the same strength as him, when I tried to stabilize my motorbike on the hill, it tipped over. It seemed like no big deal, except when I got back on, there was something wrong with it. We decided that the engine might be hot, so we waited with fingers crossed as we went over possible scenarios. “Well, I could push your bike with my foot while I drive mine…” After waiting 30 minutes, we tried the bike again, but it still was not working.
We walked up a hill to where there some people mingling about. A young woman, who saw the worried looks on our faces, came to see what was up. We pointed to the bike and tried to explain that it was working, but had lost its power and wasn’t suitable to ride. She called over some friends who came and tested out the bike. After they poked and prodded the bike and talked amongst themselves, we were still standing there clueless, unsure if it was a serious or minor problem. Gilles and I both called Thai-speaking friends to have them help translate, and long story short, with a few tweaks of a small wire, my bike was back to normal. In the process of all this, a man who spoke a little English had been summoned by the others. He explained that his wife was Swiss and they were camping up the road, and he invited us to come eat and sit by the fire with them.
This is where our story took a beautiful turn. We climbed up a hill to join our new friend and his Swiss wife and found not just his wife, but an entire group of family and friends sitting by the fire, eating, and celebrating. “We don’t live here,” his wife, Grizelle explained. “We are just camping with our roommate’s family, who are from the Akah hilltribe. Grizzelle had met her Thai husband (I can’t for the life of me remember his name now) while she was teaching English near Chiang Mai almost 10 years ago. Now they have a child together and have settled in Thailand full-time.
As we talked with Grizzelle, she extrapolated on her relationship with her roommate’s family. “About five years ago, all of these people were living much further from here in a more remote area, and there was a bad fire. They lost everything. When it happened, I was able to raise some funds from some Swiss friends and family, and what you see now is what we rebuilt, about 10 houses. They are still grateful towards me every time I visit.” It still astounds me how, as a world and as a people, we mange our money. I come from a country where men get paid millions of dollars to throw an inflated ball into steel hoops and between posts, and here I was sitting in a village in which less than a thousand dollars could rebuild ten homes. I can only shake my head and wonder sometimes…
The hospitality this family showed us was incredible and humbling. As we sat around the fire, they brought out watermelon, sticky rice, and tea. After visiting the kitchen, I realized the feast hadn’t even yet begun, as they were preparing fresh fish, seasoned pork, and fresh vegetables they had grown themselves in their garden. As we sat down to eat, I felt so grateful for this experience, and the generosity we’d come across. And the feast, well, it was unbelievably delicious. The stars above were glowing, celebratory music was playing in the distance, and after we returned to the fire, fireworks began crackling in all directions. Happy Chinese New Year! It is these experiences that motivate me to travel again and again. It is these experiences that push me out of the cage of my comfort zone. And it is these experiences that leave me feeling like a child again, exploring unfamiliar territory, foreign languages, limited communication, and a faded curiosity that often leaves us both with age, and as we go through the motions of our own routines, in our familiar towns, familiar homes, with our familiar families and friends. Yet in these moments, gratitude always emerges for both ends of the spectrum… the distant familiarity and present moment of hanging on the metaphorical monkey bars on the playground of new experience. For all of these things, I am grateful. For all of these things, I am in awe.
The next day after an early morning motorbike cruise, Gilles and I parted ways, and the tiny unknown town of Pharao waited for me in the distance….
