This was my first time seeing so many elephants together in Thailand so when we arrived I was pretty excited. So excited I forgot myself, and when Jiu and Nid climbed aboard an elephant, I joined them for the ride. The elephant lumbered along with the three of us, plus the trainer, on its back, as we passed rice fields and baby elephants.
15 minutes later we dismounted and the trainer updated his price: 100 baht for the Thais, but 200 baht for me because I'm a foreigner. To their credit, Jiu and Nid stubbornly refused - which I found impressive, seeing how Thais dislike confronting issues such as this. They told him that I was their son, a part of their family, and adamantly refused to pay him the extra 100 baht ($3). It was a gesture I really appreciated.
Still, it began to dawn on me exactly what I'd done. It was only after a closer observation of the elephants did I notice their shackles and their distress. I believe strongly against causing harm to animals, especially for the entertainment of people, so I'm embarrassed to admit that I had succumbed to the moment and ridden the elephant. Later I learned that elephants should not have more than 100kg on their backs. The seat alone weighs 50kg.
The rest of my company weren't fazed, however, and many of them participated in what I'm unsure to refer to as either a tradition or a gimmick. For an extra fee, they could walk three circles around an elephant's forelegs for good luck. It was funny seeing how scared some of them were, even though a part of me felt desperately sad for the poor chained creature. There was no way he could have hurt anyone.
I did enjoy getting up close to the amazing animals, though, and truly admiring them. I shared a moment of understanding with one of them by looking into its tear-swelled eye as it stared back at me. I could sense its feeling of utter entrapment.
One of the elephants sent some karma back my way though. In fact, it sneezed a thick wad of karma all over my feet. It was rather disgusting, but in the heat it baked on pretty quick. I ran to the toilets before we left so I could wash my hands and feet. But in the toilet, there was only a squatter, dinky sink, and a hose. There was no soap! Then I saw it: a water bottle filled with white-and-blue powder. Could it be...? I poured some powder into my hands and rubbed them under running water. It was some kind of cleaning agent, probably not meant for skin use, but I had no choice. I gave myself a good spraying with the hose, rubbing the cleaning agent between my fingers and toes in an attempt to get the muck off. I was a wet mess by the time I made it back in the van, squeaking and slipping in my thongs. But finally I felt clean.
After another stint in the van, we landed at a silk festival. Our guides were primary school students, plus one high school student. The other teachers kept encouraging the kids to speak English to me. Of course, I could tell immediately they didn't have much English, so they were being very shy. And they were so well behaved - a little too well behaved - so I decided I would break down some barriers.
As we moved from market stalls of silk to looms and information boards, I took funny photos and just generally messed with them. By the end of the tour, as they followed us back to the starting point, I noticed that their numbers had nearly tripled. I think I'd inadvertently caught the attention of the other guides and stolen them from their groups. Personally, I felt like that was a job well done!
As we passed through some small Surin town, we suddenly turned off the main road to stop for lunch. The first place we found was a local noodle
restaurant. We filled out the rest of the tables and, as usual, I got some stares. The cook, a middle-aged lady with a nervous smile, called out to me on our way out. She wanted to ask if her food was delicious. I think I may have been the first farang to have eaten there. I assured her that it was, and her smile transformed into a grin. It was a really nice moment, and served as a reminder to express gratitude at every chance - especially here, because I do stand out a bit.
Our forth and final destination was supposed to be a casino. Just before we arrived, as Jiu and Nid explained where we were headed, it occured to me that casinos are illegal in Thailand. After some confusion, I surmised that we were bound for a casino on the other side of the border, in Cambodia.
"I can't go," I tried to explain. "I need my passport."
"Mai bpen rai!" all the teachers cried, which means "don't worry", and seems to be the Thai solution to every problem.
Sure enough, when we got out of the van and approached the border, one of the patrolmen exclaimed, "Ah, farang!", which is the word they use for white foreigners, and explained that I would need a visa. Thais don't need a visa to cross, and it costs them 50 baht. I would need to muck around with visas, and it would cost me 800 baht. Plus 1000 baht for the re-entry permit that I would need to get back. Of course, I was unprepared and didn't have any of these things.
But it was the price difference, not the lack of documents, that made the teachers understand that I wouldn't be joining them. They ushered me back to the van like a child, telling me to wait with the driver until they came back. I didn't tell them that I can't just leave Thailand without a re-entry permit from Thai Immigration without having my current visa cancelled. And after the trouble I went through to get this visa, I was not keen on losing it to go to a casino which I wouldn't have enjoyed anyway. In the end, the teachers decided not to make the crossing to Cambodia after all, so we went to the market just around the corner and they all went shopping.
I lost interest in shopping very quickly, as I do, and wandered outside to watch a storm brewing over Cambodia. As the wind picked up, I found myself lost in thought: to stay in Thailand another semester, or to leave? I want so much to make the right decision.
It was 5:00pm by the time everyone had regathered at the van, and we climbed aboard just as it started raining. It was a 3-hour drive back to Ubon, and I took a couple of photos of the incredible sky when we made our next stop.
When the van dropped us back off at school, Jiu and Nid took me to a restaurant nearby and shouted me dinner. We ate delicious pieces of crunchy pork, some kind of flower salad, rice porriage, and more. Again they refused to let me pay. I guess that's another part of Thai culture: they're really dedicated to looking after me, exactly as they would their own family. I understanding it a lot more now, but I still feel a twinge of guilt. Of course, that's outweighed by my gratitude. I really am very lucky to be with these people, to be in Thailand, and to be having the experiences that I'm having. Life is incredible.
I've since made the tough decision though: I'll be finishing work at the end of this semester (mid-October), travelling for a couple of months, and returning to Australia sometime before Christmas. I'm still a little confused at my decision, to be honest, since the more time I've spent here, the more I've enjoyed myself. The last 6 months have been especially amazing. In the last week or two I've been breaking the news to friends, students and colleagues, all who want me to stay. It's a really tough one... but I think I'm ready to try something different. Sometimes the only way forwards is forwards...
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