i wanted a little silence today. or a lot, really. i wanted some time by myself.
i feel okay, but i have a hankering for solitude. or perhaps solitude has a hankering for me. i've tried several times now to take a day to allow thoughts to rise. but i am constantly meeting people (which i am so grateful for), or else bumping into people i have already met. day after tomorrow i leave for nepal, and i can't leave thailand without having a truly quiet day, just me and the road.
ironically, i finally found this easy to do while bundled into the back of four wheel drive with four irish girls and an english guy, heading into the chaing mai jungle. i played silent from morning, restraining from saying hello or being inquisitive. if they asked a question, i would answer politely, but would not reciprocate. it's now 9 p.m., and i still haven't asked anyone's name. they did try to include me at first, but pretty soon wrote me off as silent and strange. which was fine with me, because i became invisible.
when we got to the camp, they huddled around, assessed. i walked the outer grounds, found kittens, looked at flowers. when lunch was served, i took my plate for a walk. two hilltribe women, teeth dyed an incredibly rich black from the betel nut they chew, were setting up stalls of their handicrafts. i browsed the bracelets, shawls, pendants and bags. i bought a bracelet, and later in the day went back for another.
when we set out for our hike, i hung back. the group hadn't stopped talking in hours, but their voices eventually became distant. up behind me came two hilltribe women, one in bright, heavily layered traditional garb, the other all casual, looking much more bangkok than rural village. both were beaming but neither spoke a work of english. perrrfect. we gestured and giggled our way up the steep muddy paths. they gazelle-like, me heavy-footed but optimistic.
at the waterfall, the irish+english stripped down and dove in. looking up i noticed a thin trail leading to a rocky plateau overhanging the waterfall. i started climbing, and soon found that the rushing water drowned out the squeals below. i counted red ants, collected leaves, and looked for monkeys in the bamboo.
we returned to camp before dusk, me 20 minutes behind, but in the company of our gentle tour guide, who was happy to invent responses to my stream of botanical questions, whether he knew the answers or not.
dinner was being prepared when i pulled in. one of the women from the path waived to me cheerfully from the kitchen. i gesture-asked her if i could help cook. she laughed as if i'd just highlighted an award-winning comedy skit, slipped the apron from over her head and dropped it over mine.
we mixed pineapple, potatoes and broccoli, marinated bowl after bowl of chicken and other assorted meats of which i will never know the origin, used endless spices i could not identify, and she showed me how to drain cooking oil from a deep-fried fish.
while the final preparations were being made, i wandered over to the black-tooth hilltribe women (i do wish i knew their name so i could be a little less derogatory-sounding), who were splicing bamboo sticks on their porch, surrounded by black cats. i gesture-asked if i could join them, and they also found my question hilarious, and answered everything with "okkeeyy, okkeeeyyy."
this isn't my photo, but it is in fact the older woman whose porch i sat on, and who made me the betel nut satchel
the older one showed me around, while stuffing more betel nut mixed with tobacco into her cheek (the betel nut is meant to create a state of mild euphoria, and may explain why everything i said was so hilarious). she offered to make me a satchel, and how could i refuse. into a bamboo leaf, she wrapped some limestone, betel nut and something else that was red (she pointed to the tobacco and said, 'no'. and i later found out it was so strong it would have made me high) , and i placed the packed into my cheek and bit down. it was... very lovely. sweet and interesting. juicy.
then she showed me how to spit a thick steady stream of burgundy saliva into a plastic bottle. this i respectfully refused, and both women howled with laughter.
we used our fingers to tell our age (60, 50, 31). then the younger one used both hands and one foot to tell me her "baby" was 14.
we were quickly running out of chit-chat, so we sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes listening to the river and looking out over the trees. then i thanked them profusely, and headed back towards dinner.
a few hours have passed now. i did eventually break my silence with the irish+english, and even played games with them into the night. including a game of 'would you rather...', which was new to me, but which involved choosing which you'd rather from two generally gross or sexually riske circumstances. and so it came to be that, in case they didn't know what to make of me before, now they knew for sure that i was at least an emboldened pervert.
they are sitting to the left of me now; their games continue. i bowed out to write in my notebook in this candlelight. but now i am getting tired. i am going to take my tea and retire, crawl alone into our communal hut, recline under a cascading mosquito net, and close my eyes.
in my mind, i'll be the only person on the mountain.
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