In the Land of Elephants and Emerald Waters: Chronicles of Thailand (Part 1)

Thailand: The Land of Smiles, where the people are as warm as the temperature, even in the winter.

The best way for me to paint a picture of this wonderful country that's won over my heart is by telling you some stories.

The journey begins in the north, in Chiang Mai, one of the ancient capitals of Thailand. It's a place that's rumored to have more temples than 7-Elevens, where the Old City feels like a living, breathing temple that honors life, the streets pulsating with people and scooters moving between day and night markets, temples, restaurants, bars, and yes, even 7-Elevens. Monks walk the streets in their bright orange robes. Tuk-tuks filled with tourists weave the roads. The smell of street food greets you as regularly as the roaring engines of scooters, but in a much quieter voice than you'd find in not-so-far Hanoi.

After walking around Old City for a few hours and eating my weight in delightful Thai food, I sat on a bench near the crumbling old wall to rest my feet. A Thai woman sat beside me and asked why I was sitting. I answered, and she pointed out that she wasn't wearing shoes. She needed to buy new ones on her way to the bar she owns, just across the street. And that was it for our conversation. We smiled, said bye, and parted ways.

Burnout Cleaning Hacks

In Chiang Mai, I met up with a friend I've known for more than a year who I've never met in real life. We met through Moreland University, where we were in the same online cohort in a teaching certificate program. We both worked our butts off that year, and our conversations have largely revolved around best practices of teaching, or completing assignments, or how much better the tropical pool-and-tree housing in Thailand is than the studio-apartment-living in Korea.

But this time, we finally got to meet in person, along with her husband, Paul, who has been a teacher for long enough to be able to dole out great advice.

There's a topic that comes up often in the teaching community, and perhaps you're no stranger to it yourself, regardless of your work experience or background: burnout.

It's a normal part of life, and it's just as lovely as death and taxes. It's very inclusive; it doesn't discriminate against anyone. And even though its warning bells can be as flashy as railroad level crossing signals, it can approach as silently as an oncoming train.

I'm in the throes of burnout recovery myself, and yes, I'm ready to say this with my head held high. It's a difficult thing, and I believe wholeheartedly in doing difficult things with intention, reflection, and growth.

I'll spare you the details of the long conversation Dawn, Paul, and I had, and I'll leave you with the tasty little takeaways of how to recover from burnout:

Consider what caused the burnout. What caused the flashing lights, and what finally signaled the oncoming train? How can you spot those warnings better next time? How can you take better care of your mental health if those warnings come about again in the future?

Remember that your job and your identity are two separate things. Even if your work is important to you, even if it connects deeply to your values or life goals, find other ways to put yourself first and to detach from the office (or classroom, kitchen, lifeguard booth, or wherever).

In recovery mode, start with just one thing you want to do. Establishing a routine is important and a powerful way to get back on your feet, but don't go all in or else you may end up burning out again. Just choose one little routine or goal (in my case, it's finding joy in my photography), and find the joy in that.

Great question, highway graffiti.

Thai Food: The Difference Between Good and Great

Thai food is so good, and it's so cheap. You can find an entire meal on the street for about a dollar, give or take. It'll be delicious and filling (though your appetite may have been slayed by the heat and humidity, even in March).

Dawn and Paul took me to a restaurant they deemed has some of the best Thai food in Chiang Mai. Those are strong words; I know. But they were not wrong.

Paul is a huge foodie, and he explained very simply the difference between good and great food. It's so simple, and a non-foodie like me may never have realized it: It's the quality of the ingredients.

It makes all the difference, and it doesn't even affect the price as much as you'd think.

It makes me consider what small things I could do to bring the quality from good to great in small parts of my own life (or even in my own kitchen).

Five Minutes with a Meditation Master

Thailand may be the Land of Smiles, but it's not an oversaturated market of smiles; they will still take you a long way.

After saying bye to my two friends, I wandered down the street near my hostel and ended up at a stunning silver temple, Wat Sri Suphan. It was a Saturday night, and visitors were flowing in from the "Walking Street" (a street flooded with food, beverage, and merch vendors), drifting around the big silver temple to pray or spectate.

An emcee was inviting people to watch the student drummers near the entrance and to return after sunset for a prayer ceremony. Walking around the premises with my camera, I caught his eye, smiled, and gave a small bow.

Soon after, he came and greeted me, introducing himself: Master Sawa. Master Sawa had worked as a hospitality manager for 35 years, but 9 years ago, he embarked on a new journey as a meditation teacher, working nearly every day at this big, beautiful temple. He invited me to a room facing the main temple building, where we meditated together for a few minutes, eyes closed, palms resting on our knees, open, asking to receive good energy, and cleansing out bad feelings like anger. We asked for peace, to exist in the space between happiness and suffering. We breathed in good energy and banished the bad in big movements of our hands wiping dramatically from our thighs to our knees to the air in front of where we were seated.

Afterward, Master Sawa chanted aloud for me, sharing gratitude for us crossing paths, for the smiles, for the good energy we felt in our meeting.

It feels amazing to bask in big feelings, but we can sometimes fall as high as we rise. Being in the middle between happiness and suffering is difficult for me, and it sometimes goes contrary to the ideas I grew up believing, but it's a steady, stable place for finding my footing. And there is a nice, long-lasting peace there.

Does Sanctuary Exist?

Thailand has challenged me and stretched my views in many directions. I believe I'm a better person for it. But just as in any place, there's the good, the bad, and the very ugly.

Elephant sanctuaries are a dime a dozen, and they look amazing in the photos. Couples, solo travelers, families petting elephants and smiling big toothy smiles, kissing elephants while bathing them, feeding the elephants as one would feed a pet, riding elephants in straw buckets tightly strapped to their backs.

Animal ethics has been my core value throughout my entire life, ever since the day I ran screaming from the table at Red Lobster as I realized that fish comes from fish, chicken comes from chicken, and lobster does indeed come from lobster. (But what about beef? There's no animal named beef...)

I believe in due diligence in researching to whom one gives their money, but if you know me well, you know I have idealist tendencies. And due diligence in elephant sanctuary research can be incredibly difficult in a place that does not legally regulate animal rights.

As a recovering idealist, I'll admit that not everyone cares about the animal ethics. Some people just want to see the elephants.

And, well, I also want to see the elephants.

Months ago, I'd learned that not all elephant sanctuaries are actually sanctuaries. In fact, some sanctuaries are the exact opposite.

But at the same time, I learned of some ethical organizations through which you can visit elephants that are well cared for. This led me to visiting Elephant Nature Park (ENP) in Chiang Mai. "That's the most ethical elephant sanctuary," I've been told, even by people trying to sell me tours to places that allow you to bathe elephants. ("Elephants don't need humans to bathe them; they can do it themselves.")

ENP cost more than other elephant sanctuaries would charge, but I happily paid because I knew it was going to an excellent cause. The elephants have large areas to roam, do not have to interact with humans if they don't want to, and are well fed and cared for, with regular vet visits and positive conditioning to improve their quality of life, mood, and to even treat the sort of elephant PTSD that many have as a result of being abused and coerced to "dance" in shows, being ridden by people, being chained by the foot in other "sanctuaries" or entertainment facilities, and even elephants that are injured from stepping on landmines.

ENP rehabs more than just elephants. They have hundreds of dogs and cats, most of them rescued from the floods in Thailand years back. There are cows and water buffalo that were rescued from slaughterhouses, and at ENP, they are much better fed and healthier.

The animals walk freely. Even dogs that are "troubled" and could be aggressive wear red bandanas to indicate to people that you should keep your distance from them, though you are welcome to give belly rubs to the other good boys and girls on the property.

Many of the elephants were very curious and friendly, approaching us to smell us for food (especially treats like watermelon). They are very well fed, barrels of hay and watermelon treats being doled out to them like clockwork. But they weren't shy to give puppy-dog eyes and sad snouts when they found out we weren't going to give them food.

Elephants, cows, and water buffalo mingled amongst each other at the park. I laughed as the cows were scolded by the caretakers for eating some of the elephants' food while they had their own food just a few meters away. It reminded me a lot of children seeing how long they could get away with breaking a rule before getting in trouble. And like children, as soon as they got caught, the cows moseyed their way back to their own food area, knowing exactly where they were supposed to be.

The star of ENP for our tour group was the baby elephant, a "little" boy being watched by his "nanny" elephant while his mom chilled nearby. When the watermelons were delivered, they happily went to their feeding area to chow down. A watermelon rolled underneath the baby's foot, and he accidentally popped it with a single step.

Later, our tour guide told us to watch our phones around one of the naughtier elephants. Not long ago, the elephant had stolen a phone from a guest who was taking pictures, thinking it was food. She put it in her mouth, and realizing it was indeed not a tasty snack, she dropped it on the floor and promptly stepped on it.

RIP phone

We were encouraged to keep our distance from the elephants, especially the baby. However, the amazing thing was seeing the relationship between the caretakers and the animals. All over ENP, there are hammocks and wooden huts where the workers (mostly Burmese or Thai) relaxed between delivering food to the animals and cleaning up after them.

As you guessed, the elephants are rescued from abusive situations in "sanctuaries" or entertainment facilities, like circuses. One cheeky elephant escaped to ENP from her previous owner -- TWICE! She crossed the fence and stayed.

Most of the elephants already have injuries when they are rescued. Their sensitive eyes may be blinded by the bright lights of the circus, or they may be blind from the abuse they received; their backs may be weak from giving so many rides to people; they may have any number of injuries from the bullhooks used to control them; and they are no longer able to perform. ENP buys the elephants from their previous owners. But with that money, the elephant owners just buy new elephants, capturing them from the wild.

"Can the elephants ever be returned to the wild?" I asked our tour guide.

"They could survive in the wild, but they're likely to be captured again," she answered.

Michelle, can we go back to the good and less of the bad and ugly, PLEASE?

Oh, yeah. OK.

Let me tell you about the good people. Like the people who worked at my hostel, Hidden Garden Hostel, in Chiang Mai. They greeted everyone every day with a smile. They were ready to go out of their way to give you any advice, to book tours for you, to point out the best places to eat, to practice the various languages they've learned from guests at their hostel, to talk about K-pop and K-dramas, or even to kill time and have long conversations with you like you're old friends.

They were the best.

It was from these friends at my old hostel that I learned about the termites, who swarm lights like something out of a horror movie, but who also lose their wings. Thai people say that these termites signal that rain is coming. And you can also eat them with sauce. (No, I'm not going to try it. But if you would like to, be my guest.)

The Local Intercity Bus

A kitten on an empty seat.

Young soldiers.

An older woman with big, puffy plastic bags filled with snacks.

A young woman sits in the empty seat and puts the kitten on her lap.

It meows above the bus engine.

Children play with the kitten.

The bus stops again and again.

The older woman rings the bell to stop at markets.

She delivers the puffy plastic bags to the vendors and collects her money.

A soldier occasionally passes a plastic bag to help.

We continue on our way and repeat again.

Honesty and Opium

One of the best museums I've ever visited in terms of storytelling, transparency, logos, and pathos, is the Golden Triangle Park Hall of Opium. Before visiting the museum, I couldn't say that I was familiar with the Opium Wars or the history of opium, but after spending a couple hours in the museum, I feel I have a solid grasp on opium history, the pros and cons, the politics and wars around it, and what options modern governments and organizations have to combat drug use.

The museum first places you in a long, dim tunnel, where you are surrounded by carved rocks, that sometimes gives you a sense of pareidolia in which you think you can see faces and bodies. But often, you notice the vivid outlines of people, many of them in suffering or agony. I understand that this may not be a great selling point to many of you reading this, but the fact is that this museum has an excellent talent for honesty.

The tunnel opens into a windowed room filled with (fake) opium poppy. From there, the chronological exhibits guide you through learning about:

Ancient history's evidence of opium use in various societies around the world
The pros and cons of opium use (brilliantly explained in a hallway in which the left side displays the medicinal and more innocent uses of opium, whereas the right side paints a picture of addiction and crime)
How opium came to Asia (and how the history of opium and tea [even the Boston Tea Party] are connected)
The Opium Wars (with a dose of understanding of why people would hate the British and Westerners)
The opium health crisis
Opium paraphernalia, how it was smoked, how it was made, where it was smoked, and the business practices behind it
Thailand's history of legal-to-illegal opium laws and policies
The International Opium Commission of 1909 (Do you know what it took to cease the trade of opium?)
Modern-day drug laws in various countries worldwide
The crazy ways in which people try to smuggle drugs at the airport (including a computer game you can play in which you try to find all the drugs being smuggled in a virtual airport)
Various types of drugs and how they affect the body
How governments and organizations combat drug use (like drug reduction, rehab, detox, legalization, etc.)
Case studies of people and addiction

The whole museum culminates into a room filled with quotes to help reflect upon the thoughts and feelings you garnered throughout the exhibits.

The museum is a little more than an hour away from Chiang Rai, but if you find yourself in the Golden Triangle area one day, and you yourself are someone who is interested in history, I'd absolutely recommend going up to visit it.

Parseltongue as an Additional Language

In a cultural center in Chiang Mai, I learned that there are Buddhist temples around Thailand devoted to each of the Zodiac animals, and visiting yours is supposed to be quite auspicious.

Well, I'll take all the luck I can get!

The snake's temple is Wat Chet Yot, and lucky for me, it was located just a 12-minute drive from my hostel.

I'd planned to return to Chiang Mai for one more day after my trip to Chiang Rai, and decided that was the day I would go visit.

During my travels, especially staying in hostels, I'd been around many 20-something-year-olds, though I'd also met some others in their 30s, usually a little younger or older than me.

But in the 24 hours before I went to the temple, I met two other 34-year-olds, my fellow snake brethren and...sistren...?

Anyway, very much like the Avengers did, we assembled. (Almost exactly the same thing, really, except we don't have ssssssssuperpowerssssss.)

If you were also born in the Year of the Snake, perhaps you're like us and always yearned to have a different Zodiac animal (like a dragon, which is basically a wingless snake, as my Snake Brother Sam pointed out). But upon entering the temple property and finding ourselves face-to-face with a bunch of cobras, we instantly made peace with how awesome cobras are and accepted our slithery serendipity.

Previously, my friend, Paul, had shared that your auspicious future comes out of "making merit" at your designated temple, and from my research, it seems that making merit is usually the act of worship at a temple. Taking lots of selfies with our snake buddies is probably not a traditional act of worship, so we donated money to the temple, gathered incense sticks, candles, and bouquets of flowers, and asked a local for instructions on how to pray properly.

I like to think I've had good luck since this visit. I've definitely had the good fortune of meeting these wonderful new friends.

Why I Completely Changed My Plans

I absolutely loved northern Thailand -- the people, the culture, the scenery, everything. However, the timing of my visit collided perfectly with the dreaded so-called "burning season."

The beginning of the year in Thailand is dry season, and it's also the time in which farmers conduct the agricultural practices of slash and burn farming and mushroom thrashing in parts of Thailand, as well as in neighboring countries, Myanmar and Laos. Many of these fires inevitably spread and become forest fires. In addition to the pollution from the smoke, fine particulate matter known as PM2.5 is released into the air. This particle type is finer than a strand of hair, and it's best combated by wearing a KF94/N95 mask or staying inside. Or by doing what many northern Thailand locals do and leaving the north entirely, in order to protect your health, as PM2.5 can cause serious damage.

Chiang Mai is hit hard by burning season, as the city is centered in a sort of basin, surrounded by mountains and shielded from wind. The only way for the pollution to settle or blow away is for rain to finally come. Once it does, the air quality improves dramatically, and you can finally see the gorgeous views the region has to offer!

Generally, people in Asia are no stranger to pollution, so wearing a mask outside comes more naturally. It's fair game fashion, though it's not totally comfortable. (Beauty is pain, eh?) Being exposed to pollution for such a long term catches up to you eventually, even if you choose to ignore the immediate symptoms (sore throat, congestion, dirty eyes, etc.).

In Shanghai and Ningbo, I was shocked to see that most Chinese people don't wear masks, though I understand people can only download Chinese apps, which are rigged to show a lower AQI level than Western apps display. However, I was perhaps more shocked to see how few people were wearing masks in northern Thailand, even when the smoke was easy to taste and feel on your tongue. (I think people get used to it...?)

Many travelers were aware of the smoke and knew OF burning season, though I can't say that they'd done proper research into what it actually is, or what it entails, or how it affects your body. Of course, it's easy to dismiss it when you'll only be spending a few weeks in a smokey region, especially when you'll be returning to a country with cleaner air.

However, it was disheartening the number of times that the pollution came up in conversation and someone said, "But what are you going to do?" with a dismissive hand or tone.

There's an actual answer to that question, but I don't think they'd want to hear it.

I try to empathize with everyone and to understand others' perspectives, and I can see why backpackers (especially young ones) would keep calm and carry on, even when they know they are doing something (passively) dangerous. Perhaps I might have done the same at some point of my life, or when I was living in a place with fresh air.

However, I take health seriously, and I've personally experienced the effects of air pollution (the yellow dust in Korea, and even the post-hurricane burning in Florida). I especially sympathize for people living in the path of these pollutants in Asia. As the hostel staff in Chiang Mai pointed out, they are powerless to the pollution, and they have to live with it and whatever consequences it has.

Some more studies are being done on air pollution in SE Asia, and there have been talks at the government level to reduce the levels. But you know how governments are known for being speedy.

There was, thankfully, a bit of rain while I was in Chiang Mai, which helped clear the air a LOT! However, in order to protect my own health, I decided to change the course of my travels: fly south and work my way back north in April, when rainy season should begin.

Final Thoughts

This concludes Part 1 of this travelogue series. Thailand is an absolutely gorgeous place with warmhearted people, delicious food, and the best life has to offer. I hope I have been able to properly communicate how much I love it here and what a wonderful time I'm having.

A tough reality of life is that reality comes with life, regardless of where you are. I see travelers who sugarcoat all their travels, and even though I am a very positive and optimistic person in this unquestionably beautiful world, I don't want to sugarcoat things. Traveling is so fun and amazing, and I'm so fortunate to have this opportunity, but it is also difficult. There are challenges, constant troubleshooting, and difficult moments that try you and test your fortitude, endurance, and beliefs. I feel acutely aware of the wonderful things to which I'm exposed, as well as to the horrors. I don't want to close my eyes to it, just as much as I don't want to let it ruin my vacation. I'm still learning to find balance. Perhaps this is a personal conflict I've been trying to make peace with since COVID "hit."

But rest assured that I have many more beautiful stories and photos to share with you in Part 2. I hope you will find the beauty in them, too.

One of my new snake friends, Dani, told me a story one night about a friend she met on her trip. A guy had been flirting with her friend, and he asked her, "What are you doing tonight?"

She wasn't interested in the guy, as he'd come off as rude. She told him she'd be waking up early tomorrow, since she had a lot of activities planned.

He listened and paused before giving his response. "Tomorrow's not today."

Well, that's true. And now, whenever I feel a bit overwhelmed or worried about whatever number of things cross my mind, I just tell myself that.

Tomorrow's not today.

Here's one more photo dump of pics that fit the theme but not the stories ;)

Thank you so much for coming along these travels with me. Let me know what you think in the comments! I'm open to any and all feedback, and I'd love to also know what thoughts and feelings come up for you, too!

Until next time!

Michelle