It’s a 8pm policed curfew in Chiang Rai so I’m home but I’m not sure there could be a nicer or more pleasant place on earth right now. I am sitting on the balcony of my house, which is at the base of a large conical shaped, jungle-covered mountain in a suburb (or village) in Chiang Rai Thailand. The rain is pouring down and it is washing the world clean after a bright skied and hot day in the city (I’m sunburnt).. I hope the rain keeps the militant ‘red shirts’ inside drinking beer and chilling out tonight instead of blowing up ATMS like they have been in the city this week.
Today I continued my explorations of the villages surrounding Chiang Rai. I accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up bush bashing my way on some slippery back roads on the motorbike till I found someone to tell me I was in the wrong village. Some giggly, teenage girls I met had a tiny bit of English and Thai and I had a hand drawn map.
There was a lot of laughter when we all realised how far away I was from where I was meant to be (mainly on their behalf: but I guess they don’t see a foreign girl loaded up with camera gear ride into their village very often, so it was fun for them). They were swimming in a tank when I met them so I followed the drenched girls on their motorsi to the place I was meant to be.
The Akha Church in Ban Doi was running a program for local Akha (tribal group) kids and I took some photos of them singing a cute little song about saying hello in Thai and Akha. Its really interesting how many of the ethnic minority groups don’t speak Thai or have access to learning it. I’m finding it hard enough to live in a country where I don’t speak the language let alone being poor, looking for work and raising children as families do here.
