Among Hill Tribes In Northern Thail

[moe@xxxxxxxxxxxxx]

Subject: Among Hill Tribes In Northern Thailand [NEW YORK TIMES 18TH APRIL]

Among Hill Tribes In Northern Thailand 
New York Times; New York; Apr 18, 1999; Martha Stevenson Olson; 

Edition: 
             Late Edition (East Coast)
Column Name: 
             Asia-Pacific Issue
Start Page: 
             11
ISSN: 
             03624331

Abstract:
TRAVELERS to the mountainous rural province of Mae Hong Son, near Thailand's
northwest border with Myanmar, will find it still wild and exotic,
populated by
Chinese and Burmese ethnic immigrants and protected by its remote location in
the Himalayan foothills. Waterfalls, caves, raft able rivers, working
elephants and
vast tracts of teak forests make it attractive for adventure travelers, as
well as
some group tours.

Of the several towns in the province, the capital, also called Mae Hong
Son, is
the most visited, not only for its cool morning mists and temple-fringed
lake but
also because it is linked to Chiang Mai by Thai Airways. The capital is also
a good
place to get a look at the various border groups and ethnic immigrants who
help
make the north so colorful while still providing the resources of a small
city.

The smaller towns of Pai and Soppong, about halfway and two-thirds of the way
(148 miles) from Chiang Mai to Mae Hong Son, provide a streetside intimacy
with
everyday rural mountain life.

Full Text:
Copyright New York Times Company Apr 18, 1999

[Author note]
MARTHA STEVENSON OLSON writes frequently about Southeast Asia.

TRAVELERS to the mountainous rural province of Mae Hong Son, near Thailand's
northwest border with Myanmar, will find it still wild and exotic, populated
by Chinese
and Burmese ethnic immigrants and protected by its remote location in the
Himalayan
foothills. Waterfalls, caves, raft able rivers, working elephants and vast
tracts of teak
forests make it attractive for adventure travelers, as well as some group
tours.

Of the several towns in the province, the capital, also called Mae Hong Son,
is the most
visited, not only for its cool morning mists and temple-fringed lake but
also because it is
linked to Chiang Mai by Thai Airways. The capital is also a good place to
get a look at the
various border groups and ethnic immigrants who help make the north so
colorful while still
providing the resources of a small city.

The smaller towns of Pai and Soppong, about halfway and two-thirds of the
way (148

miles) from Chiang Mai to Mae Hong Son, provide a streetside intimacy with
everyday
rural mountain life.

On an April day last year, my husband, Jinx, and our daughters, Allie, 6,
and Katherine, 3,
along with a friend from San Diego, Mike Winston, prepared to flee the
madness of
Songkran, the Buddhist new year, when it is customary for those celebrating
to douse one
another with water during this most sweltering season. We departed from
Chiang Mai,
where we had been living off and on for a year and a half, for the relative
serenity and
coolness of the western hills. We had rented a Mitsubishi sedan, and soon
outside Chiang
Mai, we were curving and climbing through rice fields and orchards to Pai.

Pai is one of those friendly little towns that invite travelers with more
time than money to
linger. Just a few streets next to the Pai River, which can vary from a
clear trickle to a
brown torrent, the town nevertheless has good restaurants, comfortable,
inexpensive
guesthouses and many trekking agencies. Two-story teak shop houses, built by
Chinese
traders from Yunnan, line the streets. Several Buddhist temples are next to
the river, and
nearby is a small mosque serving the Muslim population. Enterprising members
of the Lisu,
a regional ethnic group, meander the streets in rainbow clothing, selling
their technicolored
woven hats and bags. Backpackers on push bikes and motorbikes negotiate the
lightly
trafficked roads. Bars offer live jam sessions nightly.

We headed for the Pai Mountain Lodge, a rural resort of rustic bungalows
with fireplaces
and porches overlooking a small lake about a mile from town, with sawtoothed
mountains
to the west. In the peak season, from November to March, Pai is cold enough
for a fire in
the fireplace, and the location is tranquil, starry and moonlit at night and
buzzy with cicadas
and sunny in the daytime.

The day after we arrived, I walked up to the nearby waterfall, about a mile
along a red-dirt
country road past a Lahu village with as many piglets as people. The
waterfall is not
sensational, and the grounds around it are littered, but it makes a nice
walk, with a couple
of places along the way offering drinks and snacks.

In fact, a major attraction of Pai is its variety of country expeditions.
None of them lead to
world-class attractions, but getting there is fun: you can walk or bike
through the
countryside and hill-tribe villages with a small map, available at most
guesthouses. Though
overnight adventures should be booked through a trekking agency, the day
hikes out of Pai
are well known enough among villagers and tourists to be unthreatening, yet
scattered and
numerous enough to assure a certain amount of solitude.

We found the Pai Mountain Lodge a bit too peaceful, and the next morning we
moved to
Charlie's, a guesthouse in town. While not luxurious, Charlie's is a
reliable stalwart with
clean rooms and comfortable beds.

Mike Winston and I signed on for a tour that included an elephant ride and a
visit to a hot
springs. The tour operator deposited us, along with Jacky, a traveler from
Belgium, about

10 miles out of town, where we watched our elephant being prepared for the
trip. We next
climbed to the top of a small platform, and, after a bit of prodding from
the mahout to link
the elephant's forehead to the tower, we clambered aboard.

Mike and I got the howdah, and Jacky took the spot atop the elephant's neck,
her freckled
ears flapping against his knees. We lurched off through a landscape made
sepia by fire and
leafless by drought, and the mahout trailed behind. Epiphytes were the only
growth on the
bare branches, and we could see great distances into what, in a different
season, would be
impenetrable forest.

Little black gnats hummed around our necks and eyes. At odd moments the
elephant
would stop completely, and the mahout would bark commands, then segue into
what
sounded like pleading on the order of, ''Please, darling, you're making me
look very bad
here.''

We were happy to finally clamber off onto a log atop a ridge, and headed off
in the
direction indicated by the mahout. We forded a small stream with
exclamations of surprise
-- the water was warm! The hot springs on our agenda were obviously nearby,
and we
loitered there, until the mahout waved us back.

The trip back seemed shorter, and we took a different path that led past a
little spring,
where our mount imbibed a snootful of black sludge and promptly sprayed it
back at us.

The next day I wandered along the riverfront, revisiting temples and other
attractions, like
the place where I received a Burmese massage -- excellent if you don't mind
a mat on the
floor. In April the river was placid and shallow; in the high season, from
November to
February, it is downright boisterous, and river trips by bamboo raft or
canoe can be
arranged to go as far upriver as Mae Hong Son (or in the reverse direction,
from Mae
Hong Son to Pai).

After three nights in Pai, we drove 28 mountainous miles to Soppong for a
quiet stay at T.
Rex House, a pleasant bungalow resort surrounded by tropical gardens and run
by a
German expatriate and his Thai wife. There the girls played in the clean
little swimming pool
while I explored some caves, collectively called Tham Lot. Caves usually
make me
claustrophobic, but this complex was supposed to be special, with a river
running its
436-yard length, several separate chambers, ancient coffins and prehistoric
paintings. The
road to the cave is in itself a scenic marvel, passing through fields and
forest and across two
plank bridges, before becoming a dirt track the last quarter-mile.

AT the park's entrance, three German tourists and I hired a guide with a
kerosene lantern
who proved invaluable, though her English was limited. The caves are vast,
with
70-foot-high columns, sheets of glistening calcium carbonate and one very
faded prehistoric
painting of the sun and a human figure. On the crystal-clear river, teeming
with fat carp, a
flotilla of boatmen stood in the gloom to ferry passengers through. There
were several other
groups visiting that day, but because of the cave's size, it never felt
crowded. I wish I'd
bypassed the last cave, however, the one with the coffins, which was fetid
and tick infested.


On Easter Sunday, the girls and I bade farewell to Jinx and Mike, who
wanted to
experience Songkran at its peak in Chiang Mai, where it is celebrated
exuberantly.
Soppong is a very small town, comprised chiefly of general stores that
provide a wide
range of goods -- hammers, flavored ices, you-name-it -- to the hill-tribe
people of the
surrounding mountains; a trip to the small day market in Soppong gives
glimpses of cultures
more Tibetan than Thai.

A few days later, the girls and I waited roadside for a public bus to Mae
Hong Son. We
managed to persuade the Songkran-celebrating youths who were soaking
everyone with
water to spare us until, finally, climbing aboard the bus, I got a bucketful
from behind. ''Oh
well,'' I said to the girls when we were seated, ''at least they didn't get
my face -- though I
almost wish they had, it's so hot.'' A canful of water through the bus's
open door provided
the punchline.

The ride to Mae Hong Son was wet but spectacular, the jungle denser and the
mountains
higher the farther we got. Finally, after a long and steep descent into the
Mae Hong Son
Valley, the bus pulled into the station and we found a taxi-van to take us
to the hotel where
we'd arranged to meet Jinx, Mike having already boarded a plane back to San
Diego.

Originally a trading and elephant-herding outpost established in the early
19th century, Mae
Hong Son was designated a city in 1874. In 1893, after the British annexed
the neighboring
Shan state into their Burmese holdings, the Thai Ministry of the Interior
made the region a
province, and Mae Hong Son its capital.

When I first visited nine years ago, the city had a slightly dangerous feel
about it, with the
drug warlord Khun Sa a major player nearby, warring Burmese factions across
the
Salween River, and illegal teak logging and smuggling both major commerce.
Thailand's
national anthem was broadcast at the town's main intersection every morning
and evening,
seemingly to remind the polyglot crowd which country's rule they were under.

It's still a bit wild, but frequent and very cheap flights (about $10 one
way from Chiang
Mai) have brought many more tourists here. Illegal logging continues, the
area south of Mae
Hong Son is dotted with camps of refugees fleeing the same conflict, and,
although Khun
Sa ostensibly has retired, the Shan and Wa armies continue the opium, and now
amphetamine, trade, mostly on the Burmese side of the border. The entire
region is
peppered with hill-tribe villages, and a visit to the morning market on
Panetawattana Road
will find Lisu, Hmong or Lahu among a long list of ethnic minorities, each
with distinctive
tribal clothing, trading in agricultural products and handicrafts
(especially beautiful are the
woven shoulder bags of the Karen and Lahu tribes).

Overlooking Mae Hong Son on a hill 4,265 feet above sea level, the temple
Wat Phra That
Doi Kong Mu with its two bright white Shan-style stupas is a peaceful place
to get an
overview of the town; at night it's illuminated like a beacon. A couple of
Burmese-style
temples, Wat Chong Kham and Wat Chong Klang, are on the south side of the
town's
central lake. At Wat Chong Kham, I saw the abbot reclining on a lawn chair,

joking with
visiting Thai matrons, and outside Wat Chong Klang, with its mechanized
games of fate and
carved wooden statues, were three young novices squirting each other with
pink water
pistols. On the other side of the lake, there is a park with pavilions
overlooking the water
and tables for picnics.

Among the interesting excursions nearby is Tham Pla, or Fish Cave, a small
crevice in a
rocky hill, with a river flowing under it, where schools of fat, powder-blue
carp nibble
offerings. The adjoining park is itself an attraction, with expanses of
green grass and
wooden walkways and groups of Thai families toting picnic baskets. About 16
miles north,
near the Burmese border, is the Chinese Kuomintang village of Mae Aw, a
stark, treeless
place with snuffling pigs that is now home to aged refugees from Chiang
Kai-shek's
Nationalist army.

Those with a taste for the exotic can visit one of the Padaung villages,
home of the
so-called Giraffewomen, whose coiled bronze necklaces make their necks look
strangely
elongated. The atmosphere of the dusty village I visited was one of
embarrassment on the
part of the Padaung women for being objects of such scrutiny and on my part
for being
there at all. They are refugees from Myanmar, speaking more English than
Thai, and I
found I was more comfortable talking with them than trying to take
photographs.

My memories of this region tend to be dreamy, slightly bizarre snapshots: a
shy Padaung
girl practicing her guitar as a stream of shutter-clicking Westerners files
by her house; a duo
of elephants crossing the hilly landscape, then fording the river behind a
modern Mae Hong
Son hotel; an ancient Lahu woman outside the Tham Lot caves, selling orchids
from a
handwoven basket on her back. It's somewhat of a jolt to board a plane in
Mae Hong Son,
with these and other memories still fresh, and debark half an hour later in
cosmopolitan,
bustling Chiang Mai.

Natural wonders and rural mountain life in the foothills of the Himalayas

Getting There

Thai Airways flies between Mae Hong Son and Chiang Mai five times daily, at
$10.50 one
way (calculated at 37 baht to the dollar) if the ticket is bought in Thailand.

North Wheels, 127/2 Moon Muang Road, Chiang Mai 50000; (66-53) 216189, fax
(66-53) 221709, is a reputable car rental agency that will drop off and pick
up cars at your
hotel; a two-door Mitsubishi sedan is $32.50 a day, with a $54 drop-off fee
if you want to
leave the car in Mae Hong Son.

Lodging

Pai Mountain Lodge has 20 clean rooms; bungalows overlooking the pond are
$16.25 a
night; 84 Moo 4, Pai District, Mae Hong Son 58130; (66-53) 699068; in Bangkok,
(66-2) 435-5146.

At Charlie's House, 20 rooms, half with bath, half with shared facilities,
are in five separate
buildings in a small garden with fat dogs, cats and caged doves and mynas.
Doubles with
fan and bath are $5.50. Charlie's is at 9 Rungsiyanon Road, Pai, Mae Hong
Son 58130;
(66-53) 699039.

In Soppong, T. Rex House has nine small A-frame bungalows facing a tropical
garden and
small swimming pool, with a few larger rooms in the owners' fieldstone
house. There is a

small restaurant and bar with whimsical 19th-century European decor.
Bungalows with two
single beds, fan and bath are $9.50; the VIP rooms in the house are $12.15.
Popular
dishes at the restaurant were the spaghetti with coconut cream tomato sauce,
and mu aroi,
a pork and peanut curry. The hotel is at 295 Moo 1, Tambon Soppong,
Pangmapa, Mae
Hong Son 58150; (66-53) 617054, fax (66-53) 617053.

In Mae Hong Son, the 104-room Imperial Tara was the grandest hotel in town,
with
doubles listed at $68.50, with breakfast. It backs onto a lovely teak-forest
park and has a
pool, sauna and exercise room. The Imperial Tara is at 149 Moo 8, Tambon
Pang Moo,
A. Muang, Mae Hong Son 58000; (66-53) 611021, fax (66-53) 611252.

The Mae Hong Son Riverside Hotel, like the Imperial Tara only 5 years old,
is about three
miles out of town overlooking its own 164-foot pool and a scenic section of
the Pai River
that is popular with elephant treks. Its 40 rooms are $40.50, including
breakfast. The hotel
is at 165 Ban Huey Dair, A. Muang, Mae Hong Son 58000; (66-53) 611504, fax
(66-01)
5100373.

Restaurants

In Pai, the new open-air Prik Waan, translated roughly as ''robust chili
pepper,'' holds sway
on a quiet corner. The gracious owner, Thongpak Wongsawan, can suggest
specials or
help describe the intriguing selection of Thai dishes. Dinner for two with
drinks, about $20.
Open daily. The restaurant, at 24 Moo 1 Wangtai, Pai District, recently
opened and has no
telephone number.

At Chez Swan, the menu focuses on Continental classics, but the Thai food
here is good
also. Dinner for two with wine might run about $25. Open daily. At 13 Moo 4,
Rangsiyanon Road, Amphoe Pai; (66-53) 699274.

In central Mae Hong Son, the Swiss Chalet specializes in fondue, raclette
and rosti in a
garden setting. Open daily. A meal for two with drinks is about $20. At 3
Singhanatbarnrung Road; (66-53) 612050.

Also in central Mae Hong Son, the Fern Restaurant, with traditional teak
decor, serves
excellent Thai food. Open daily. Lunch or dinner for two with drinks will
cost about $15.
At 87 Khunlumprapas Road, T. Jongkum, A. Muang; (66-53) 611374.

Excursions

Elephant rides can be booked in Pai through the Pai Elephant Camp, 5/3 Moo 4,
Rungsiyanon Road, Pai, Mae Hong Son 58130, telephone and fax (66-53)
699-286, cell
phone (66-1) 951-8008. Day tours with various options, including elephant
rides, range
from $13.50 to $27.

In Mae Hong Son, numerous tour agencies can arrange itineraries for any
taste. A day's
tour to the hill tribes, the fish cave and the waterfall with a car and
driver costs about $54,
with extras like elephant rides or admission to a Padaung village increasing
the fee.

Wilderness treks out of Soppong can be organized by guides associated with
the various
guesthouses, but are not advertised as widely as elsewhere.

Caveat

The latest State Department consular information sheet, issued March 11,
warns United
States citizens of potential dangers in northern Thailand, specifically,
threats against
American officials in Chiang Mai Province north of Fang and Chiang Rai
Province north of

Chiang Rai.

Additional information about travel in Thailand is available on the United
States Embassy's
Web site at www.usa.or.th or by contacting the embassy in Bangkok at (66-2)
205-4000
or the consulate general in Chiang Mai, (66-53) 252629. MARTHA STEVENSON
OLSON