The Golden Triangle is the border
between Laos, Myanmar (Burma), and Thailand. A location of incredible beauty,
it is also has a long history as one the premiere heroin growing and smuggling
regions in the world. The Thai government has taken a number of measures to
combat drug crimes including heavy punishment and ethically questionable
ferocity towards anyone connected to the drug trade. But perhaps one of the
most successful efforts in cleaning up the Golden Triangle has been by, for
lack of a better term, gentrifying the area. They’ve constructed the Opium
Hall, a museum that documents the history of opium. It’s got animatronics,
hokey voice-overs, and a great deal of propaganda against heroin. As museums
go, it’s… so-so. As a way to drawn in foreigners and encourage the private
sector to make the triple frontier safe, the Opium Hall is brilliant. The
actual site of the Golden Triangle has also become infested with Farangs
(foreigners, usually Caucasian). You can buy tee-shirts, souvenirs, and there’s
a fake Buddhist temple you can take photos and pose with (behavior that would
be entirely unacceptable in a legitimate temple).
Even the infestation of whities
cannot detract from the immense natural beauty of the region. Veerat (who works
for my host father and was my sole companion while my host father and Lung
Sombat where in China) and I stopped at the Golden Triangle for lunch. We were
on our way to Mei Sai, which is where my grandparents on my host mother’s side
live. There are also a number of mountains around Mei Sai, I really can’t do
them justice in this blog. I would recommend taking a look at my flickr where I
hope to have photos from this past weekend up within the next couple od days.
One of the places we stopped was a Bhuddist temple located on the mountain. It
was finishing up construction, but it was still a testament to human
achievement that we have the capacity to climb the mountains and build on them,
but can create a space that encourages further appreciation of nature. That
last sentence might have been a bit abstract, but it sums up my feelings at the
time.
Our last stop before meeting my
grandparents was the Mei Sai market. It was the stereotypically seedy image of
Asia, where you can buy exotic fruits and imitation designer handbags, and the
whole place stinks of gasoline from the motorcycles that run up and down the
alleyways. Seeing this intensely urban image so close to the mountains of Burma
was jarring, but is a perfect example of the depth that I’ve seen in Thailand
so far.
My grandparents run a garden store
not far from the market, which is where Veerat and I met them. We had a gaping
language barrier, as they spoke no English, and Veerat knows only a little
more. Despite this, they were extremely kind to me and the dinner we had later
that night was quite fun, even though I understood perhaps 4% of the
conversation. Rotary talks about adapting to social customs, and how exchange
students begin their year by unconsciously violating all kinds of social norms.
Some of these violations I’ve been able to notice (Thai’s don’t shake hands, if
you try to, they will hesitate before offering you their arm, which is doing
its best imitation of a dead fish), but I think the dinner was filled with
plenty of violations I didn’t notice. Veerat, despite his limited English, was
really skilled at letting me know what to do, when I had enough situational
awareness to notice his gestures. Example; if an elderly person opened a door
to greet you, as was the case next morning when Veerat and I headed to my
grandparents shop in the morning you would rise to greet them if you were in
America. In Thailand, because age is so respected and height is a status symbol
I don’t fully understand, you would stay sitting so that the older person would
be taller than you. Despite what I’m sure was dozens of such missteps; my
grandparents were extremely kind with me. The next morning Veerat and I were
given a tour of his cement factory. They make these pods that look kind of like
traffic cones, but are given a metal lining on each side and become kettles
that villagers use.
After goodbyes had been said to my grandparents,
Veerat and I began the trek back to Chaing Khong, where dark forces sought to
bring our trip to an early end...
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