Jump forward a couple weeks; it’s Friday and Saleem and I are on our own again. Dave left two weeks ago and Saleem’s friends left last week. It’s a bummer when your friends go. For a short period of time it’s like you were at home again. Something familiar was added to your every day Thai life and in the blink of an eye it’s taken away. To remedy our post-pal blues we decided to head to a national park. One of our best weekends was spent in Khao Yai National park so we figured another park excursion would do us good.
At orientation we learned about Erawan National Park. It is home to a massive seven-tiered waterfall. Everyone knows about Erawan. It seems like everyone has gone there, loved it and came back with beautiful pictures. I had wanted to go since October so I was super psyched to say the least.
After school on Friday we grabbed our bags and walked to the bus station. We quickly caught a bus and were on our way, or so we thought. The bus kept slowing down almost to a stop and jerking forward and backward. I wasn’t sure if we had a 16-year-old driver or if it was broken and then my question was answered when it shut off in the middle of the highway. Saleem and I groaned in unison and decided after ten minutes that it was the worst bus ride we had ever had. Things didn’t get better either. We continued on at a jerky pace for most of the ride. Then when the bus cleared out the driver decided he didn’t want to take us to where we originally agreed so we were basically kicked off early. It’s not uncommon for this to happen, but usually it’s relatively close to where you wanted to get off, this time it wasn’t. We gritted our teeth, got off the bus, crossed the highway and started walking towards the sky train. The sky train is an elevated subway, but picture a really clean, sleek, modern subway. It was Friday around 5:30 and it was packed to the gills. Did you ever see videos of Japan where people outside the train and pushing people in so the doors can close? It was pretty close to that point. I could feel sweat on my forehead as I squeezed in and put my arm up to grab the overhead loops. In Thailand it’s very offensive to be dirty or have body odor so when I feel one drop of sweat I feel like everyone’s going to be giggling about me. I think everyone was more concerned with my weekend backpack that kept bumping in to them, but I just smiled and tried to take up as little room as possible. About twenty minutes later it was time to shove my way out of the train, the moment I was dreading since I squirmed into my spot, but it turned out my stop was pretty popular and getting off was no problem at all. I met up with Saleem again and we walked down the stairs and towards the balcony that over looks Victory Monument. It’s an enormous monument in the middle of a roundabout. Not the baby ones that are all over New Jersey; this intersection is huge. It is also the hub for buses and vans to the rest of Thailand. You can find a bus to anywhere the hard part is figuring out which of the twenty corners your bus is on. Usually we are completely wrong and we end up having to go up and down catwalks, wait for lights to change and dodge speeding buses, but this time Saleem was on the money. The first ticket desk we tried sold tickets to Kanchanaburi, the town we were headed to. The bummer was that the van didn’t leave for another two hours. At first we walked through the street market, but it was crowded and I was pinching pennies so I really didn’t want to be tempted to buy anything. Our next stop was a bus bench where I took a catnap while sitting up. Then we grew bored so we moved on in search of dinner. We came across fruit smoothies first so we each ordered one. After taking the first few sips we watched a waiter put straws from dirty cups he’d just cleared into a container with water. That’s the day we realized Thai’s reuse straws, gross. We sat down for dinner even though we had no idea what was being served. We waited a couple minutes and the waiter just kept passing us by so we decided to forget it. We found another bench and sat there restlessly. After another ten minutes, without speaking we both stood up. We simultaneously thought we should move a little closer to the ticket table in case the van came early. Right as we were walking over we heard, “Falangggg, Falanggg!” which means foreigner. The lady from the ticket table was waving us into the van. It had just gotten there and filled up and she saved our two seats for us. We scrambled into the back and sat down relieved to finally be on the road.
We got off to a slow start because Bangkok traffic was horrible. After thirty minutes Saleem tapped me and pointed out the window, we were passing Victory Monument again. I’m not sure if the driver made a wrong turn or wanted to take an alternate route or what, but it basically took us thirty minutes to drive in a circle. I already had to pee. Not a good sign. I tuned out of the van and the traffic and into my Joe Rogan podcast. In no time we were zooming northwest on rural roads far away from the busy streets of Bangkok.
Three hours later we pulled into a semi-deserted street. Our first mission was food and since it looked like everything was about to close we made a quick decision to get papaya salad. It’s a popular Thai dish that I eat almost daily for lunch. It’s a mixture of shredded green papaya, carrots and cabbage topped with tomatoes, hot peppers, peanuts, tiny dried shrimp, and a mixture of spicy vinegars and sauces. It’s all thrown into a mortar and pestle and pounded around until it’s spicy, juicy and delicious. I love it. It has replaced my daily ice cream craving, which makes me love it even more. This batch was really spicy; by the end of dinner my nose was running and my mouth watering. We ate quickly and walked over to 7-eleven to buy goodies. Then we hitched a ride from two motorcycle taxi men. We asked them to take us to Jolly Frog, the cheapest bungalow in the guidebook. Unfortunately Jolly Frog was full. The drivers said another hotel name, we shook our heads and off we went. We arrived at Blue Star, another cheap hotel, but it was also full and so was Apple’s, Sugarhouse and Bamboo House. Finally on the fifth try we lucked out. My Home still had some rooms and to our delight they were cheap, only about $7 a night. The rooms were actually little sheds like the ones you can buy at home depot to keep your riding lawn mower in. The only thing in the room was a fan and bed, there was no space to walk, but who needs that anyway? Each of the sheds were lined up in an L shape, making a right angle and they were all painted a different color of the rainbow. Talk about trendy. After stashing our stuff we walked out onto the main street, which wasn’t nearly as sleepy as the rode we arrived on. This was Kanchanaburi’s main street and it was packed with tourists and lined with bars and restaurants. In the guidebook it was described as a backpacker town, but I wasn’t expecting so many people. We walked to another 7-eleven (there’s about a dozen in each town) and grabbed two big Leo beers. We headed back to “My Home” and stooped it for a while as we planned out the next day.
Our plan was to wake up early, which we did. We ate fruit for breakfast and went next door to Jolly Frog to rent a bike. The owner used to be a director at a school, which is like a superintendent in the states, and he was happy and talkative once he saw our work permits. Once we got the motorbike we headed for the hills, literally. The national park with the waterfall was about 60 kilometers away so we had quite the journey ahead of us. On the ride we were pretty silent, I could feel a mutual enjoyment of being surrounded by mountains, green fields and fresh cold air. After a little bit Saleem asked me to take a photo while we were speeding along. As I lifted my camera from my hip I got stung by something. At first I thought maybe a rock hit my wrist, but ten minutes later I saw a small circle with a pinhole in the middle of it. It hurt like hell and was starting to get itchy, but I tried to ignore it. Another half hour later we drove by an enormous reservoir. We pulled over, jumped the guardrail and made our way through the trees and vines to the water’s edge. The reflection of the blue sky with fluffy white clouds was immaculate on the calm water. I had never had much luck with reflection photos. In four years of taking pictures this was probably only my second or third opportunity like this. We both took our time finding our own angles and views, climbing up the hill, crouching by the water, experimenting one way or the other until we were satisfied with our shots. As we walked back to the bike I noticed my wrist was swelling up. I tried to squeeze the tiny hole and get whatever was in there out, but it just wasn’t happening.
After another half hour we were at the park’s entrance. We showed them our work permits and haggled to get the fee lowered and it worked. We parked the bike and began the walk to the waterfall. We were a little put off when we saw that there were several buses in the parking lot, but we tried not to make any assumptions about what lay ahead. Not long after we started walking, groups upon groups of Europeans, particularly Russians were passing us in the opposite direction. All of them wearing next to nothing and many of them obscenely overweight, smoking cigarettes and being boisterous. We passed by the first tier and moved onto the second hoping it would be a bit quieter. It wasn’t at all. From my photos you’d think no one was there, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. I was hoping for a relaxing weekend of solitude. Just me, my camera and mother earth. By the look on his face, I think that’s what Saleem was hoping for to.
After climbing up steep stairs (behind a woman in a thong) we made it to tier three. The waterfall itself was beautiful, but I was finding it really hard to take it all in amid the groups and gaggles of people pushing by me. I couldn’t take a photo without someone waiting behind me as if it was a zoo and they had to get the same picture of the lion as I did. I wasn’t annoyed, I was just a little let down. I had really high expectations and I think that was ninety percent of the problem. I had built up this famous waterfall in my head for a few months. I pictured a walk through the woods, blue clear water and serene photographs. It was quite a nice hike and the water was shockingly blue, but something was missing or maybe hundreds of things were added that was taking away from the whole experience.
On and on I walked. Stepping over jagged rocks, splashing through shallow water, gripping to the handrail while climbing up slippery wooden stairs all on my way to the top of Erawan. I had heard that the top three tiers were more challenging to reach so there would be less people. I really hoped that was true. The fifth and sixth were breathtakingly beautiful, but still crowded. I had a really great photo in mind for the fifth, but I couldn’t pull it off because someone kept stepping into the frame. It just occurred to me that I sound like I’m the only one who had the right to be there and that all these other people were ruining my time, but that’s not what I’m trying to project. I’m simply trying to convey the thoughts that were going through my mind all day. I just now realized that these thoughts were what really discounted my day. My inner negativity was dampening my creativity when it came to photography and at the same time shutting off my senses. I was so focused on blocking everyone out that at the same time I didn’t allow myself to fully take in all the beauty amidst the chaos. Again, it came down to the expectations I had built up around this waterfall. I expected to be one of the only ones there, exploring and discovering new angles and methods for capturing Erawan and it just didn’t end up like that. Anyway, back to the final tier. It was true that most people didn’t make it all the way to the top. There were only a couple foreigners. There were a bunch of Thais, but I could handle them, I liked them. They were kind, quiet and inviting. This was their space anyway, their country’s gem. The waterfall itself was actually quite lame at the very top. If we had come in the rainy season I’m sure it would have been one of the better ones I’d seen in all of Thailand, but compared to October it was really dry. Where there was a lack of water there was an excess of bees. They were huge, like the size of my pinky and they were everywhere. I happened to be wearing fluorescent pink shorts and if bees love any color, it’s fluorescent pink. I was swarmed instantly and because of my earlier incident I was really freaked out. I immediately took off my shorts and ran away. I bet I was a sight to see. I actually made friends by acting like a scared idiot. I met a few Thai while I was running away from my shorts. They only spoke a tiny bit of English and I answered with my tiny bit of Thai. We learned each others names, ages and where we lived. They were really happy that I was a teacher. They kept saying, “crue, crue, crue” over and over (crue means teacher). After we had a mini photo shoot I said good-bye and picked up my shorts that were still covered with bees. I managed to shove them in my backpack without getting stung again. Those big bees may not even sting, but I wasn’t taking any chances. My entire hand was swollen by this point in the day, but I was trying to not to think about it.
Originally Saleem and I decided to hike all the way up and then chill at certain spots on the way down. We hung out a little bit at tier six, but then we decided to keep moving. It all felt like too much of a tourist attraction and we weren’t feeling it. I bet you couldn’t guess that from the previous paragraphs, could you?
We got back on the bike and decided to head Tham Phra That cave. According to lonely planet there is a visible fault line, translucent rocks, glittering crystals and bat covered caverns. I was really excited because I hadn’t been to a legitimate cave yet and for some reason caves are my thing, even though I’m pretty sure I’ve only been to two in my life time, but yeah, I was pumped. We didn’t really know how to get there, but we followed the vague guidebook and our guts. We proceed up a mountain on a bumpy dirt road. I was borderline terrified. Saleem likes to drive fast, all the time. I closed my eyes and hung onto the bar behind my butt hoping that we weren’t going to tip over. When I opened my eyes I saw a fantastic view. It was a huge body of water with mountains dotted here and there. I hadn’t seen anything like it before. We stopped the bike and walked through an empty lot to get closer to the edge, but then we heard dogs barking and after counting five of them we decided it was time to turn around slowly and walk back to the bike. We paused at a couple other lookout points and took some photos. We even turned down a road that said “viewpoint” which turned out to be someone’s house. They also had dogs, but the owner was a nice old man who repeatedly whacked his dogs every time they barked, a true act of kindness in Thailand. He invited us up onto his deck for a better view and we had a short conversation about Erawan and where we were headed. He was so sweet. I bet he put that sign there just so he could meet people. I was glad I got to talk with him and enjoy his view. The mountain islands in the middle of the water seemed so foreign. It reminded me of something in The Land Before Time or maybe The Never Ending Story, you get the point, it was mystical.
Finally after an hour or so we saw a little sign that said Tham Phra That. We turned down the skinny dirt lane and ended up at the tiny visitors center. The boy working there told us that it closed ten minutes ago. Ten freaking minutes. I felt like we had struck out. I had my heart set on seeing everything the cave had to offer. When I thought of the crystals and the fault line and fluttering bats that would surely scare me as much as excite me, I thought again of expectations and how important it is to keep them low or in the case of Erawan have none at all. Again we saddled up and rode off into the sunset, just kidding, we rode off in the opposite direction looking for something to save the day. According to the guidebook there was supposed to be an “enormous and extremely scenic Si Nakharin Reservoir.” I’ll cut to the chase here to spare myself the pain, it started to rain, we almost crashed and we never got to the reservoir. The directions weren’t clear, the mileage was off, or it didn’t exist, either way the umpire called strike three. We were out. Out of luck, out of gas and out of daylight so we headed back to Kanchanaburi.
Believe it or not we were in pretty good moods throughout the day. I think we were both stewing inside and we didn’t realize it until we talked over two big beers that night. Two big beers and a bag full of ice that was sitting on my now ballooned hand. Saleem started calling it a muffin hand. He said it was puffy like a muffin. You couldn’t even see my knuckles. The ice didn’t help, but the guy who owned the bar directed me towards a pharmacy where they gave me an antibiotic and cream for only $2. Health care is the bomb in Thailand. On the way back from the pharmacy I decided it was time to remedy my day. Even though I was in the throws of the P90x workout I decided there was room for chocolate ice cream in my nutrition plan. It worked. It made me smile even though I had had a flop of a day and a balloon of a hand. On the way back from the pharmacy we even ran into a group of street vendors that chatted us up for a while. They offered us liquor after we told them we taught in Chonburi. We learned to “cheers” in Thai and had a few good laughs. It’s times like those when you realize it’s all about company. If I could have replaced all the tourists with Thais at Erawan I would have had a completely different experience. The few interactions I had with Thai natives throughout the day were simple yet meaningful because they carried with them the lasting effects of happiness.
