Day 144 – Chiang Mai – 12:13 PM

Early last week I sat down to iron out my remaining weeks in Thailand.  My plan was to depart Chiang Mai, travel to Phuket and ferry to Ko Phi Phi.  I met with a nearby travel agent and he cautioned me the bus ride from Chiang Mai to Phuket is nearly twenty-one hours and includes a long stop over in Bangkok.  He recommended I bus from Chiang Mai to Bangkok and fly the final leg, Bangkok to Phuket.  Rather than suffering through another overnight bus ride, I decided to depart Chiang Mai the same way I arrived, by train. The agent informed me that train tickets in Chiang Mai must be purchased in person at the railway station.

I walked to the sidewalk and hailed a tuk tuk.  For $2.84 USD, Pom, the driver, graciously drove me three miles to the station.  I walked inside and strolled to the ticket window.  After much debate over the available seats, I reserved an air-conditioned bunk in this evenings night train.  As Pom shuttled me back to the Old City, I was glad to have accomplished that task. We arrived at SK House 1 and chatted for a few minutes. Pom asked if I wished to see any local attractions the following morning.  I heard positive reviews of the Tiger Kingdom, Long Neck village and the snake show.  I ran these by Pom and he offered to provide transport to and from each for just under $12 USD.  He seemed honest and friendly; I smiled, stuck out my hand and agreed to his fare.  We parted ways agreeing to meet outside SK House 1 the next day at 10am.

I woke up the following morning around 8 am. I descended the staircase outside my room and strolled through the small courtyard and into the attached restaurant. A few fellow residents sat nearby contemplating the day’s activities over a cup of coffee.  I slid into a vacant seat and ordered “the American breakfast”.  Minutes later a plate with two fried eggs, bacon and slices of toast appeared before me.  I made quick work of my meal and returned to Room 222.  I changed into a pair of shorts and t-shirt, grabbed my hat and camera and stepped into a pair of flip-flops.  I returned to the restaurant and waited for Pom’s arrival at 10am.  Minutes later I heard the distinctive rumble of a tuk tuk and sure enough Pom pulled to a stop outside SK House 1.  I grabbed my camera off the table and approached.  He welcomed me with a smile and handshake and I jumped in the back of the cab.  Pom saddled the driver’s seat and turned around in my direction.  He asked which attraction I wished to see first.  I shrugged my shoulders; I was unsure.  He recommended the Tiger Kingdom, as we were early enough to escape the tourist crowds that arrive in the afternoon.

Pom pulled away from the curb and traversed narrow roads until he crossed through the brick wall surrounding the Old City.  He turned left and then took a right onto the main thoroughfare that intersects Chiang Mai.  We passed restaurants and cafe’s catering to the breakfast crowds, locals unlocking the doors to their street-side shops and vans shuttling fresh arrivals from the train and bus depots.  We drove for nearly twenty minutes and Pom pointed things out along the way.  Off to our left, he indicated the barracks that house the Thai army.  A short while later we passed a Thai Prison.  We continued on as the warm, mid-morning wind blew against my face.

Eventually we passed a large billboard adorned with the words “Tiger Kingdom” and a large arrow pointed to the right.  We turned and pulled into a nearby parking lot.  Pom was correct, only a couple cars and tuk tuks sat parked in the shade. He pointed out the ticket window and told me to take my time inside; he would wait for me.  I climbed four stairs to a small window.  The employee asked which size tiger I would like to pet: small, medium or large.  I chose the large.  For $17 USD, I was afforded ten minutes interacting with the tigers.  He tore off a ticket after I signed a waiver and pointed me in the direction of the cats.

I walked along a narrow pathway and stepped through a large, wooden gate.  There ahead of me stood large pens occupied by three or four tigers.  Each pen were adorned with signs indicating the size of the cats held within along with a number of warnings.  I walked to the “large” tiger pen and an employee approached.  He took a quick look at my ticket and asked if I was ready.  I nodded and he slid up a doorway built into the pen.  I stepped through and my nerves increased; there no longer existed a single barrier between these cats and myself.

The employee escorted me to the first tiger, a two-year old male, sitting lazily against the fence on the far side of the enclosure.  He reminded me to stay behind the animal and avoid touching their front paws.  I pulled up my camera and snapped a series of photographs in quick succession. Luckily, the tiger completed a wide-opened-mouth yawn during this volley of photos.  Its large, fang-like teeth reminded me once again that I was within arms reach of a animal known to maul his prey.  I put my camera down and began gently petting the tigers back.  Its head rested atop its front paws; never once did it turn to peer at me.  My gaze shifted to his hind paws and I was shocked at how large they were. Each was easily over one foot long and between five and six inches wide.  As I continued stroking his back, the tiger turned over and assumed the position that animals take when they want their stomach scratched.  I obliged and moved my hand to his stomach.

A few minutes later, an employee guided me to a second tiger. Unlike the first, this cat sat on a wooden table in the middle of the enclosure.  I was instructed to stand at the rear of the tiger; do not step in front.  I started petting its back and maintained a considerable distance from its head and nearby teeth.  The employees encouraged me to take videos and selfies.  I happily followed instructions.  A few minutes and selfies later, they indicated my time was up.  I thanked the employees and retreated to the safety of the walkway.

I strolled around the grounds snapping photos here and there.  I passed by the individual cages that house the tigers when the park is closed.  The cages appeared clean and large enough for the cats to roam.  I walked towards another cage and a full-sized lion rested inside.  Its large head and full mane surrounded a small face with two eyes that gazed in my direction.  I could not help but feel bad for this lion.  I knew deep down it wanted to run free with his fellow lions.  It was truly fascinating to be so close to such large creatures.  However, the motives of any enterprise that profits from animals in captivity are always questioned. They rightly should be.  That lion and those tigers would undoubtedly fair much better if left in the wild to survive how they were intended.  This point became even more evident later that day.

Following the Tiger Kingdom, Pom drove me to a Kayan Lahwi village. The Kayan Lahwi’s are a small subset of the larger Red Karen people who originally inhabited Myanmar. Many Kayan tribes fled to nearby Thailand after a series of conflicts with the local military in their home country. The female Kayans are widely known for a particular practice.  Each female, starting at the age of five, places a number of metal coils around their neck.  As they age, the number of coils increases.  Over time, the weight from the coils pushes down on the clavicle, thus making it appear their necks are elongated.  I was shocked to see young girls beginning this practice with three or four coils compared to their elders who have over a dozen.  Many theories have been put forth regarding the rings.  Two popular arguments take very opposing views. The first states the rings were originally worn to make the women appear less attractive, thus less likely to be captured by slave traders. The opposite, and more popular explanation, claims the rings were worn as a sign of beauty and wealth. The Kayan Lahwi women believed the rings would attract a suitable husband. I slowly walked through the village, smiling to the locals and perusing the items they were selling.

Our third stop was the snake show, fifteen minutes from our two previous stops.  It should come as a shock to no one that I have a devout fear of snakes.  No matter how big or small, poisonous or not, in my mind they can all take my life with a single bite.  As such, I was quite nervous as I entered the snake exhibit.  I began walking around the vacant park peering in cages that housed various serpent species.

Eventually a young employee approached and introduced himself in perfect English.  We chatted and walked from cage to cage.  He explained various things about the snakes on hand and answered my many questions.  At the python enclosure, he retrieved a key and unlocked the cage door.  Moments later the python was in his hands and he walked towards me.  He instructed me to put my hands out; I obliged.  He placed the python in my hands and it began to work its way up my arm.  We sat on a nearby log and my blood pressure eventually dropped to a normal level.

The python was returned to its cage and we continued on to the cobras and king cobras.  My guide explained that the king cobra, unlike the other species of cobra, is the longest venomous snake in the world. We arrived at a set of four small cages. Each cage consisted of one bail of hay, one tire tube and one snake. I was informed that cobras are nocturnal, thus why each one hid in its respective tire.  The employee noticed my failed attempts at a photograph and told me to wait one second.  He retrieved a nearby stick and key.  The key was used to unlock the cage and he employed the stick to jostle awake a king cobra.  A large head rose from inside the tire and it looked angry.  After a bit more prodding, the head slithered from the tire followed by nearly thirteen feet of dark, black snake.  A bite from a snake that size can leave you dead in one hour without anti venom.  I was struck by its size.  I cannot imagine running into a King Cobra that size, or any size, in its natural environment.

Eventually more visitors arrived and the show was set to begin.  I thanked the employee for his insight and walked to the nearby seating area.  A large circular ring sat between a set of L-shaped bleachers.  I sat in the first row.  For the next thirty minutes, employees performed all sorts of heroic, and in my mind death-defying stunts with cobras and king cobras.  The cobras each had their head raised and hood flared wide.  The employees put their index fingers on the snake’s nose. No bites. They leaned in and kissed each snake on the nose. No bites.  To see these three individuals closely interact with deadly animals was breath-taking.  They were confident without being arrogant.  Daring without being reckless or stupid.  The close of the show brought a round of applause from the small crowd.

I returned to Pom and his tuk tuk waiting in the parking lot.  He asked me if I wanted to make the short journey to the monkey show not to far away.  I had intended on skipping the monkey exhibit, but being so close, I decided otherwise.  We pulled up to the admission gate a short while later and I jumped out.  After paying the entrance fee I walked inside and saw a large area off to my left.  I approached and saw four monkeys sitting on the ground or nearby rocks.  Each monkey had a metal ring around its neck.  Attached to the ring was a chain that stretched to a stake in the ground.  The chains were obviously used to keep the animal from running wild throughout the park.

An employee approached and told me to find a seat in the small amphitheater as the show was about to commence.  For the next twenty minutes or so, monkeys were paraded to the center of the floor and completed various tasks to the fulfillment of the crowd.  Some shot basketballs while others completed pushups and sit-ups.  One monkey rode around in circles on a tricycle as another demonstrated their intelligence by untying my hands from a series of square knots.  Each monkey was adorned with a coil around its neck attached to a chain.  The chain remained in the control of a park employee.

As I sat there watching these stunts, I could not help but think of these monkeys and their daily lives.  Each day is the same routine. Every twenty minutes they perform the same stunts in front of camera-toting tourists.  Would these primates live a more fulfilling life jumping from limb to limb in the wild jungles of Northern Thailand? Perhaps.