Twists and Turns

How exactly I ended up eating falafel in Thailand with 6 Europeans tonight is beyond me. But this has been a day of twists and turns, so I suppose it really wasn't that surprising.

It's also been a day of some consternation, and one event after another that keeps confirming what is settling deeper into my bones on this voyage: that it's not so much the destination as the journey, and that each choice we make along the way leads to unforseen events, and often, to a destiny we could not have imagined.

I started the day by taking a 3 hour van ride from Chang Mai north through the hills of Thailand. The road was super windy (as in twisty, turny), and some of you know my tummy isn't up for some things.

I held up OK though, which is more than I can say for the young hung over Israeli man who also happens to be yabbering with his 2 friends in the very internet cafe I'm sitting in right now. Why this destiny should befall me in a land of internet cafes is beyond me.

In any case, with 3 kilometers to go in a 125 kilometer trip, young post-army Alex announces in Hebrew, "I'm going to throw up. I mean it."

His friend and I look at each other, sort of pause time for a minute, and then accept our collective fate and firmly tell the driver to stop, now. Alex does his deed, and we proceed. More than you needed to know, perhaps, but I want to give you an honest picture of my trip. It's not all fairy tales and pork skewers.

(Look man, I'm reasonably proud of my Israeli roots, but if these kids don't shut the fuck up right now I might just start sighing a little louder.)

We arrive in town and it hits me pretty hard in the gut: this supposedly utopian small Thai town feels like one big tourist mall to me. I feel the fear coming in (wrong choice!), the loneliness, the sense of being lost, unmoored. I can actually feel it in my belly.

I eat some food and drink some ginger tea and decide to go with my gut: rent a mountain bike and head for the hills. So late afternoon, I do just that, crossing the river that runs through town and quickly entering a rural landscape of farms and jungle and mountains. More like the Southeast Asia of my dreams.

I feel myself relax as I pump the pedals and drive past old farmers in their fields, and am passed by Thais on motorbikes. I continue on past small houses on stilts, past old women carrying baskets and a child who smiles as big as a human can.

I'm entering the landscape, and also looking for a place to stay. The place I've booked for the night just doesn't feel right: it's too rundown, too soulless, too close to the bars and internet cafes.

I reach a sign that says, "Forest Monestary." Yes. Yes yes yes. I turn off the road and reach a small clearing with a few shrines. It's totally empty.

I am still for a moment. And I remember that mantra, about the destination and the journey, so who knows where this bike ride will take me, or any of this.

I bike on a few hundred meters more, and then there it is, to my right: a few small bungaloes just beyond a bamboo bridge. I decide to turn, another choice in a series of choices that ultimately leads me to a place I imagined on some level and didn't imagine I'd reach on another.

I pull in and a Thai man my age smiles warmly, invites me to sit, and brings me a small silver bowl filled with drinking water. I graciously accept - it's hot, and I've been biking.

His name is Tee and he is so sweet and kind. He and his partner Talia (Canadian, not Jewish or Israeli despite the name) have run this place for 2 years.

It's idyllic: fields surround 3 thatched bunagloes, and Tee and Talia's hut, and a kitchen, and a tipi Tee just finished. He invites me inside with a humble pride, and we sit. He tells me I'd be welcome to eat with them for a dollar a day, and that he'll teach me how to cook. Later he shows me his horses and says perhaps we can ride them to the waterfalls 5km away.

I know this is the place for me. It feels so calm and peaceful and real, more like the Thailand I am searching for in these parts. I tell him I'll take the room.

Then I ride away further down the road, and find more fields and farmers and villagers, and two more Wats. I feel at peace. And yes, I even find pork skewers!

I ride back into town as the sun sets, and happen up a large nighttime market. The streets are closed and full of people.

I run into Cybill, again, and a group of new friends of hers. I try to connect and I find myself feeling awkward and distant. I think I'm meant more for solitude right now.

I'm about to head to the place I'll be staying tonight, to sleep and pack up. Tomorrow morning Tee will pick me up and bring me to his land. I'm not sure what will happen, but it feels like an auspicious step on this journey.

I'll be sure to keep you posted.

Love,
Roni

PS - Oh yeah, the falafel. For some reason I go along with Cybill and her friends to a restaurant run by two Thai villagers serving Israeli food. I'm like, "No way I'm eating Israeli food here. This is ridiculous." Of course 10 minutes later I'm sharing a falafel plate with the cute Belgian girl. The falafel sucked, but the pita was the best I've had outside Israel.

PPS - Earlier this afternoon, when I felt scared and lost, I invited many of you in to look me in the eyes and smile and give me a hug. It helped so much. Thank you.