In the Land of Elephants and Emerald Waters: Chronicles of Thailand (Part 2)

The month of March was actually three months long.

Or, at least, that's how it feels. But time is just a construct, so shh!!

Where do I even begin to share all my experiences and the things I've learned in just this month of traveling? You probably wouldn't even believe me if I told you how much I've grown in even just a week's time.

I'm on this River, this journey of life and travel. I've been in the water for a long time, and I've become more fluid and malleable. I'm learning to let go, not resist the pull, just go with the flow of where the path leads me.

So, where do I even begin? Well, perhaps, we will start with a story about preconceptions.

The Phuket Paradox: My Expectations vs. Reality

I was not anticipating that I'd go to Phuket. In truth, it wasn't on my list of places to visit.

Here's the thing: When you research a trip online, you'll encounter every possible opinion, and the consensus I found was that Phuket was just not for me. Parties, seedy tourism, loud streets -- yep, that's exactly the type of place I like to avoid!

But when your friend of 10 years, whom you haven't seen in half that time, is living in Phuket, you go to Phuket.

Danica was my partner in crime at Disney. We worked in Research together, and my fondest memories were mystery shopping with her around Orlando, belly-laughing in the car together, partaking in the deepest conversations we could muster, and people-watching in parking lots while writing reports from the car.

She picked me up in her own car from the airport, and we picked right back up, as if no time had passed.

Phuket is a fair-sized island, and Danica graciously offered me a room in her house, in a quieter part of the island from which we could still visit the cultural and touristy sites. Staying with her and her son was like staying with family, and the sneak-peek into life on the island was what made me change my mind about Phuket. Her friend, Ms. Edna, came to visit every day, along with her little Welsh bloke of a dog, Marty, who would play incessantly with Danica and Mali's little dog, Magic Shadow. (I'm not unconvinced that Magic Shadow was indeed a human magician who accidentally got herself transformed into a dog and is unable to magic herself back to being human...but that's a story for another day.)

We spent some evenings at the night markets, where there's an abundance of international foods -- Japanese, Uzbek, Italian, and more! There was also an abundance of tourists, and I learned to have an abundance of patience as we were faced with line-cutters. (Practice the zen art of chill, Michelle. Woosah.) We met up with a number of people within Danica's circle of friends throughout the few days I stayed there, and for me, it just closed the deal on how important it is to have a strong support group, a circle of friends you can rely on. Yeah, I know that's Life 101, but when your friend brings you into her life and welcomes you into a group of warm, good people, you enjoy the remedial course.

But call me Clint Eastwood; there's always a balance of the good, the bad, and the ugly. There are people who behave worse than line-cutters.

Take, for example, the family in Wat Chalong, who were rambunctiously talking and laughing in a room of worship, posing amongst the wax monk statues, acting in a way that would be inappropriate in even a Madame Tussaud's, let alone in a Buddhist temple.

Take, for another example, the drive up to the aptly named Big Buddha, a beautiful Buddha statue that sits upon a big ol' hill with a gorgeous lookout over the turquoise waters of Phuket's beaches. Dotting the road are elephant and tiger "sanctuaries", small facilities with chained elephants and drugged tigers, all out for display in a way that breaks my heart and makes me question how a country with a primarily Buddhist population can go against its innate values and normalize animal abuse.

Danica told me a recent story about a millionaire elephant "sanctuary" owner, a Swiss man, who owned a large beach villa in Phuket. It's a story of entitlement and retribution. A Thai woman had sat on public steps near his villa, and assuming that she was trespassing on his property, he kicked her in the back. Consequentially, his visa was revoked, and he'll be facing trial.

I suppose it's the dichotomy of these sorts of places that I find most difficult to contend with. There are these stories of the worst parts of humankind, but then, I also meet some of the best people. You can see horrible things, but just past your line of sight, there's a stunning view, one of the most beautiful you'll ever see.

I find that many people don't want to talk about these things. They don't want to hear about the bad. I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable by putting these things on display, especially just a few paragraphs into a blog post about this incredible travel that I'm so fortunate to do. It's just that I don't believe in pushing away uncomfortable things. We shouldn't turn a blind eye just so we can feel comfortable. If we want things to change, if we want to be better as people, to have a better world, we have to cast light on the shadows. Of course, it's even better to propose solutions for it, but for now, the best thing I can do is bring awareness to it. Let's think about the impact we leave on the world. I'm certainly feeling more aware of my actions and behaviors. I repeatedly check in with myself: what kind of person do I want to be?

Island Imagery: Framing the Places

Markets, temples, and water slides -- oh, my!

Street Stories: Faces of Phuket

An Island Paradise Beyond the Mainland: Koh Yao Noi

There are countless islands around southern Thailand. (Well, maybe they are actually countable...) My Chiang Mai friends, Dawn and Paul, recommended one to me, and so, that was the one that I chose to visit: Koh Yao Noi.

Are you surprised that I didn't want to go to one of the party islands? 🤪 When I learned about this little place, Koh Yao Noi (which I will now endearingly refer to as KYN), I knew it would be perfect for me. It's a quieter island. In fact, most of its population is Muslim (I visited during Ramadan and could hear the prayers echo around the streets a couple times a day), so, although it is possible to buy alcohol on the island, it's not a place that attracts the party tourist. Most of the tourists I met there were there for the peace and quiet. The most common conversation starter amongst us was, "How did you find out about this island?"

Immediately after checking into my hostel, I met my ride-or-die blood brother, Cilian, who invited me to take a walk, as it was nearly sunset, and there was much island to explore. We walked to a pier, a five-minute walk to an ecosystem sustained by the low tide, a vast and muddy landscape where the mud sparkles, but upon closer inspection, you find mudskippers in lieu of diamonds.

KYN is an island that demands a bike (with a motor) to open the map. There's no public transportation, and whereas Grab (think: Uber) exists everywhere around the mainland, it is nonexistent on the island.

I've ridden a motorbike a whopping one time and am not licensed, so my BB, Cilian, and I made a pact to go halfsies on a bike for the couple days we'd be on the island. He was the driver, and I was the navigator. We began our adventures with a trip to Sunset Bar, which we actually skipped in favor of going down to the beach, where we shared an orange melon and watched the sun dip below the horizon as we discussed the puzzles of life, love, and relationships.

The next day, we committed to our ride-or-die philosophy and explored the whole of the island, meeting up with our fellow hostel friends, Max, Eva, Lola, and Ebba (who actually didn't even stay at our hostel, but we'll consider her an honorary guest). Our plans had originally entailed visiting all the popular beach sites (the quietest beaches I've ever seen with the clearest, bluest water), but our other friends had encountered scenes they wanted to share, like the coastal houses on stilts and the "cow road" (in case you think this is anything but a road through a cow farm, you should know: it was a road through a cow farm).

That morning, Cilian and I had ridden out to Hornbill Viewpoint to meet up with Eva and Lola, two German girls who'd met in their travels abroad and who'd become inseparable. Up at the viewpoint, a serene, shaded gazebo, we'd all decided to come back around sunset to cool down with some yoga.

Sounds like it was going to be just the four of us, right?

"Two friends of mine would like to join, if that's alright with you," Eva messaged me.

"We've got another friend joining, too! The more, the merrier!" I responded.

Imagine my surprise when we parked the bike and found our whole hostel at the viewpoint, about 10 to 15 of us, none of us certified yoga teachers. Just a group of tired travelers who wanted to do some yoga.

We completed the tiny, five-minute, steep hike up to the pavilion. It appeared that Cilian and I were to lead the yoga session. I've done a lot of yoga the past few years with the most famous yoga instructor in the world (YouTube), though I was only just getting back into it after a hiatus. Cilian had a secret past as a circuit trainer. Blood brothers ride or die again! We rock-paper-scissored to determine who'd start us off, and, as would be appropriate on a viewpoint named after a bird, we winged it.

We stretched, breathed, enjoyed the silence, felt the sun lift off our shoulders as twilight and darkness settled around the pavilion, all of us arranged in a circle around each other. I started us off with some body-awakening movements and breathing awareness, and Cilian came in for the proverbial kill, with stretches that nestled into our muscles and lungs. I became so relaxed during his part of the session that I was at a loss of what to do next, which is when a new contender, Emily, crept in and led us through a self-love-style meditation to finish off the session.

We blinked our eyes open to stillness and quiet, the sun gone, the sound of waves riding the air. At least a dozen of us all around, joined by this beautiful experience, strangers before we met and now connected by a memory that will live as long as we do.

I'll never forget the people I met on this island and the memories we made. Chasing crabs in low tide, poking things with sticks, exploring the sands like children, making friends with the quiet inside group from the hostel during the yoga session, playing cards until late at night, giving water to thirsty dogs on the beach, trying dragon fruit for the first time, joking about how dragon fruit looks like the heart of a slayed dragon that we conquered and consumed, doing yoga in the morning with the hostel owner. ❤️❤️❤️

Guardians of the Road and Home

On the way from Krabi to Khao Sok National Park, my driver told me a story.

I'd asked him about the little houses or shrines that are in front of most buildings around Thailand.

"That is a spirit house," he explained. "It's for the spirits to protect the family in the house."

"They're like angels?" I asked. "Like a supernatural being?"

"No, they're a spirit of, like, a meditation person, like a monk."

He continued to explain more about the spirits and spirit houses. If you have a spirit house, you are inviting the spirit to protect the people on the land. Just like you'd take care of your own house, you must take care of the spirit house, if you elect to have one, by cleaning it and offering water, flowers, and vegetarian food. You must only have one spirit house, or else the spirit will get mad and wonder why you feel you need two houses.

"If you don't have a spirit house, no problem," my friend said. "You don't have to worry about taking care of it. But if you do have one, you must clean it and respect the spirits. It's like taking care of a dog. If you take care of it, it's happy. If you don't, it's sad and angry."

My friend punctuated his point with a story about his brother, who didn't believe in "this stuff" and was going through a rough patch in life. Someone told him that his problem wasn't bad luck; the problem was his spirit house. So, he destroyed the spirit house on his property and never replaced it. Instead, he planned to use his money to build his son a swimming pool. After destroying the spirit house, he went to work and returned home with a bad headache. That night, he went to bed and in his nightmares, a stranger confronted him, pointing angrily and asking, "Why did you destroy my house? I will destroy your life!"

Disturbed, the brother visited a special person who is able to communicate with the spirits, who told him that the angry spirit would make it so he would not be able to live in his own house until the spirit house was replaced.

Since then, the brother has made a new spirit house, and he cleans and takes care of it regularly.

The other place where people spend much of their day is the car, and there are indeed spirits that watch over people who travel in vehicles, as well. When you ride in a Grab in Thailand, you'll notice the beautiful flowers and amulets the decorate the car's dashboard. My friend explained that these are also offerings to the spirits, but the purpose is not to protect the car but to protect the people inside it. This is a widespread practice in Thailand, regardless of religion. Buddhists and Muslims will have offerings in their car; they'll just look a little different from each other.

There are even lucky directions in which you could point your car when you park, start driving, or when you first drive a car after buying a new one. The lucky directions are north and especially east, since it represents sunrise. "If you start driving in the direction of the sunrise, it means your life will go up and up. But if you start west, your life will fall like the sunset." Before you buy a car, you can go to a monk and request protection and find out what car and cardinal direction will bring the best luck to you.

A lot of practices of good and bad luck are attributed to cars. Thai people use their car license plate numbers when they play the lottery. However, cars can carry bad luck. If you crash your car and try to sell it, it'd be hard to find a buyer, since people would assume your car is bad luck.

In regards to the spirits and practices done to make them happy in return for a lucky life, my friend told me, "People believe this, but it's not belief; it's fact. Respect the spirits, and they will protect you."

Into the Wild: Exploring Khao Sok National Park

Khao Sok is home to the oldest rainforest in the world and to many animals that I've only ever seen in nature books and documentaries.

Highlights from this leg of the trip:

I did two jungle treks in the rainforest, both times with a local named Kiki -- one full-day trek and one nighttime trek. My guide, Kiki, has a talent for finding animals you wouldn't even notice, either by smelling their proximity, noticing their eyes glinting in flashlight beams, or by what I assume could only be psychic connections with the forest. 😜

My favorite Kiki superpower was his ability to communicate with animals by mimicking their calls. He attracted many animals to our area time and time again by doing this, and every time, I was astounded.

Kiki also had an excellent sense of humor. There were large beetles in the forest that, when they flew past you, would generate strong enough sound waves with their wings that you would hear and feel the reverberations tickle your ear. Every time one of these beetles passed us, Kiki would jokingly call out, "Helicopter!" and sometimes catch them with one hand.

He would also point out the poisonous and venomous animals around us, which happen to be basically any animal that has a touch of orange. His classifications for the animals were based on what would happen if it bit you, like nothing happens, hospital, cry all night. He also pointed out some orange fruits that had fallen to the ground. "Can you eat it?" asked one of my group.

"You can eat it," Kiki answered. "But only once."

From the Shadows They Came

Do not mistake comfort for safety.

The cold A/C, the private bungalow, the false promise of security from the mosquito net.

Yes, the mosquito net will protect you,

but only in return for your freedom of movement.

The cost of escape is high.

The bugs, they came;

From the shadows they came.

From the shadows, from the night,

To the only light that night.

One by one, they appeared.

One by one by one by one

By one by one by one by one.

They covered the floor. They covered the walls.

Into my mosquito net I retreated.

They covered the mosquito net.

Bzzzztttttt bzzzzzzttttt,

Their wings beat.

"Turn off the lights," texts my friend,

From 2,500 km away.

"Dim the lights inside, and open a light outside.

"The longer you have your lights on, the more of them will come."

They come

One by one by one

By one by one by one.

The light is their beacon.

The light switch is mine.

I am safe in my mosquito net,

But tomorrow will come,

And I will need to leave.

They must leave.

My eyes seek the light switch,

But a bug has already found it,

Crawling on it,

Taunting me,

Daring me,

But I dare not.

"The long you have your lights on, the more of them will come."

My friend is now in a call, my hero, encouraging me.

I close my eyes,

Breathe in,

Breathe in courage,

Shift forward,

Reach for the mosquito net.

BZZZZTTT.

To the mosquito net it comes.

No no no no no.

One by one by one.

Unfiltered Khao Sok: The Untold Stories of Khao Sok

Don't Be Crabby That I Didn't Include Krabi

I only spent one day there, in Krabi Town. It consisted of walking, eating fantastic pad thai at a night market that only played Taylor Swift music, and getting two massages in the same day because sometimes, you just gotta #TreatYoself.

Anyway, here are the pictures.

Thailand will return.

Well, if we're going to treat each of these blog posts like they're part of the MCU, then we're only at the beginning, baby. I've still got to introduce you to our other main characters: Cambodia, Singapore, and Malaysia.

Finding balance in managing, sorting, editing, organizing, and whatever-other-thingizing photos; writing these posts; telling people that "I'm sorry, but I can't go out because I've got to do some work. ----- No, it's just my personal blog; I'm not actually making money;" having internal debates with myself about "well, maybe, I don't actually need to work on my blog and photos today because YOLO" or "but I made this promise to myself that I'd do this, and I actually really care about it a lot, so maybe one moment of not socializing is worth the FOMO;" working up some semblance of humor while tired; making time to write in my top secret travel journal that even you, yes, you, you who is still reading this far at the end (thanks for that, btw), anyway, the super secret personal journal that you'll never see because even a solo travel photo blogger whateverer still deserves to keep her secrets -- ANYWAY -- ALL of these things take a lot of time, effort, reflection, energy, passion, commitment, and the whole point of this is that I'm figuring things out, but most importantly, that YOU (yes, YOU! Still talking to you!!!) are amazing, and I'm so grateful that you're still reading this crazy long paragraph, and actually, come to think of it, this has been one long run-on sentence of me trying to say this:

Thank you for reading! Your support and encouragement means the world to me and makes all the stuff listed in the above paragraph/sentence totally worth it all. Thank you kah ❤️