Chiang Mai, Thailand- Vote "No" on Proposition Cotton Pants

When I first decided to go a'travelin, I really thought I was going to live in Chiang Mai. I bought the books, I got the tapes, I learned the do's and don'ts.

I learned that you shouldn't pat children on the head, a very rude, cultural no-no. I learned that eating with the left hand is considered by traditionalists in Thailand to be crass and vulgar, and I learned that it is a crime to in any way defame, deface or denegrate the King, to the point that stepping on money can get you in jail.

As for the first one, I can easily resist the urge. As for the second one, I'm left-handed, so I'd have to wing it and hope for the best. As for the third one, well... come on. Seriously.

Of course, as it turns out, I didn't live in Chiang Mai. I opted instead for Hong Kong. So getting all twitchy about a rather specific scenario wherein I ended up patting a kid on the head, with my left hand, while standing on a Thai Baht, ended up being theoretical. Even so, knowledge is power, so if I ever in the future find myself thus, I will now know what to do, if still confused as to how I got there.

All total, I've been to Thailand about 20 times, and each time I've found the place to be charming and very interesting. This may seem like damning with feint praise, but it isn't. I get bored pretty easily, and Thailand (Chiang Mai in particular) refuses to let you be.

They do this by offering both diversity and oddness, and they pull it off with charm. For example: you can, quite easily, ride an elephant in the rain forest, pet a cobra at a snake farm, river raft on a nearby river, and wear cotton pants all in a single day.
Its almost hard to avoid.

As can be expected in such a peculiar place, I learned a lot about myself in Chiang Mai.
This requires some explanation.
Chiang Mai has a way of convincing you that you can do things you can't.

For example, it made me think I like cotton pants.
I don't.

It made me think I might be able to Thai kickbox.
I can't.

It made me think I should wear puka shells around my neck.
I shouldn't.


This power of delusion is not a confined event. While walking to my hotel one night, I walked past a karaoke bar, wherein a tourist was singing a Frank Sinatra song, "My Way". And let me just tell you, gentle reader, he was certainly singing it his way. Talk about "regrets, I've had a few"...

Another thing that I found riveting was the Night Bazaar. I loved it (although I've always felt that the word "Bazaar" is mispelled here. Kind of like a Youth Hostel has the word "Hostel" mispelled...).

Anyway.

The Night Bazaar has things to see too numerous to list, but let me just say that it is best to arrive early, just at sunset, because the sellers are superstitious, and are usually anxious for the first sale to go well, so the luck of the entire evening will be good. This means that prices can be bargained down lower in most cases. If you don't get there early, there still is much to see and the items are widely diverse and entertaining. You can see open air cafes, Thai kickboxing, a hospital... the very definition of cause and effect.

One odd thing I found about the Bazaar is that while it takes place on the sidewalks, there are existing stores (such as 7-11 and sporting goods stores, pharmacies, etc.) directly behind it. Or put it another way: the Bazaar seemingly blocks entry into the stores.
I suppose it has turned out to be a symbiotic relationship, because those perusing the Bazaar are just as likely to go into the building, but still it seems a little incongruous. Especially because those shopping the Bazaar will be looking for bargains brought about by haggling, while the stores have fixed prices and tend to be more expensive.

I'll post more about Thailand in future blogs, and perhaps will revisit this interesting city in both blog and person. I enjoyed visiting it, and I enjoyed the people who make it what it is. It was entertaining, interesting and enlightening, albeit brief.

Sawat-dee.