Pai-radise
Pai, Thailand
Pai, Mae Hong Son Province. The people are going about their everyday lives – at the markets selling, buying…yelling at Brit farang for tapping a bucket. It is filled with live frogs, crammed to the hilt, while their former family members lie nearby, three to a skewer. The flies land on them every split second, only to be brushed away by a bored looking lady wielding a plastic bag attached to a stick. Nearby are piles of bright red meat, stacked in some semblance of order. Steaks, stomach lining and organs abound. Meat with skin looking suspiciously furry; it is all buffalo meat, freshly slaughtered. One customer feels out her steaks for the scales and wipes her bloodied hands on a rag lying on the table. Two stalls down is a woman chilling whole chicken carcasses with ice.
It is an exhausting heat, April in northern Thailand. I spot my favourite delicacies at the market. Banana leaf parcels containing coconut sticky rice with banana and jam. Yum! And only 2 Baht (less than a cent)! Vege spring rolls, huge, sell for 5 Baht each, while the endless stalls of freshly cut fruit and iced shake makers dot the street. Piles of herbs stack up as do baskets of huge galangal, much bigger than its Chinese ginger counterpart. Lisu crafts are for sale in many spots along the sidewalk. Bright hats, bags, pencil cases, change purses…the ladies minding them are in their traditional hill tribe dress, all colours of the rainbow.
All this is happening while I sidestep the hordes of motorbikes, who, in turn, are dodging the people. With the exception of the markets, Pai is a sleepy little town, but one that virtually every traveller who comes here stays longer than they expect. Is it my bamboo bungalow four metres from the river, with its cicada and gecko chorus that strikes a chord with me? Or would it be the vast array of cool cafes with divine passion-shakes and pineapple lassi that are perfect for the hot afternoons? The fact that being in the mountains, this is one of the few places it is possible to be cool enough to sleep? Or my perfect yoga spot directly outside my bungalow door?
Walking around the streets in the early morning is different story from the night market. Few motorbikes break the peace, but a couple are still moving around. Roosters consistently praise the recent pink sunrise, lost to the east in the hazy air. A monk walks serenely down the narrow street. A lady is waiting for him at her gate with donations. I watch her as she kneels, prays and is indicated up by the man in the orange robes. She puts her shoes back on and returns inside to begin another day.
As I sit and contemplate life in the temple on the hill, I can hear a jumbled mish mash of sounds. Behind the ticking of the clock and the roar of a motorbike or three, is a symphony of roosters, hens, birds and dogs. Inside the temple, the Buddhas sit unperturbed. And as I breathe in and appreciate the gracefulness of the wat, the world is waking. I walk past the wat’s Manchester United posters and hear the shrill melody of an unanswered cell phone. A sleepy monk shuffles out and looks like he’d rather be back in bed, except he has to walk the dog. Down on the road below, a van’s loudspeaker is advertising something in babbled horse race style Thai commentary. I leave to descend the many steps on my way to another day of thumb ache at my Thai massage course. Feeling truly blessed, I have started another day in Pai-radise.
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