Week 106 · Chiang Mai, Thailand · January 2016
Chiang
Sharon and I originally planned to visit Chiang Mai in 2004 — but then the SARS outbreak happened. The vision of Chiang Mai is a sleepy mountainside village that was the capital of a separate kingdom from Thailand until only about 80 years ago with a karmic feel and access to outdoor activities. Reality is that it is a city of 1 million people and the old city is 80% tourist stops and shopping.
I booked an all-day mountain bike trip in advance which went by the primary temple (Wat Doi Suthep) and some waterfalls on the way down a 5,000-foot mountain. For my other day it was open and I was looking at a zipline roller coaster or kayaking.
Long story but here is the condensed version. Three rides available after they drive you to the top of the mountain — I ended up on intermediate as the beginner had a lot of very inexperienced people and was on heavily travelled roads (and I hate roads) while the advanced had 2,000 feet of climbing which was a non-starter with my current fitness level. My group of 8 was still inexperienced and I decided to be safe and ride at the back so I wouldn't get caught up in a crash with them. The trail was easy single-track or fireroad down a 10% grade — think rough areas of C&O canal going 20–25 mph. I didn't leave enough distance when we rounded a corner and had a steep drop — everyone including the guide crashed and with loose dirt I couldn't stop so I jumped and nearly executed a perfect barrel roll. Nearly is the key term. Knew I broke it immediately.
In the hierarchy of various joint injuries (ankle, knee, shoulder, wrist), much less painful. Fortunately my inexperienced riding group included a paramedic and 2 nurses — even though he was probably more beat up than me, he and the nurses used shin guards as a splint and a ladies scarf as a sling and secured me really good. Then walked uphill 4 miles to the car. Slow ride down the mountain in heavy traffic and to the hospital. Hospital was great and in 3 hours and $350 was in a cast with before and after x-rays and low-level pain killers. That night was very painful and went back the next day for some real pain killers, and after that was OK. Only issue was in the various transactions (some had to be cash) I lost my ATM card, which increased the degree of difficulty for the rest of the trip. ATM machines in Thailand are terrible — lost 3 total there now.
A paramedic and two nurses in a mountain bike group of eight is improbable luck. The improvised splint — shin guards from the bike kit strapped with a women's scarf — is textbook wilderness first aid: immobilize the fracture with whatever rigid material is available and secure it against movement. The 4-mile uphill walk back to the car after a wrist fracture, followed by a slow descent through Bangkok traffic to a Thai hospital, is the kind of story that only sounds absurd in retrospect. Thai private hospitals near tourist areas like Chiang Mai operate at a high standard and are significantly less expensive than Western equivalents — a full emergency consultation with x-rays and casting for $350 is a common experience.
Although I extended my trip 2 days in Chiang Mai, much of the extra time was lost in reorganising and recovery and I was moving much slower. Did lots of walking in the old city and a tour to the mountain temple I missed, as well as a hike up one of the waterfalls.
I also took a tuk-tuk out to a village to see an indigenous tribe — the Karen Long Neck Women. Not something I would have done except for the broken wrist. I didn't research and when I got there it was not a real village but like an exhibit with real people living there — selling various tourist crap. Mixed feelings whether helping them with the admission fee and buying stuff, or hurting them by being part of the demand that keeps them there like that. When I got back, Googled it and a lot of people had the same thoughts — the short answer is that they aren't even from Thailand but refugees from Burma. They are free to go back, but really can't leave and stay in Thailand as they have no skills to survive there. It was unclear how the children were treated — whether they were allowed to get an education and integrate into society or if they were just going to be the next generation of exhibits. The young girls with rings on their necks did not appear to be tight — more like decoration. Eye opening.
The women wearing brass neck rings are from the Kayan Lahwi subgroup of the Karen people, originally from the Kayah State of Myanmar (Burma). They fled to Thailand as refugees during the Burmese civil conflicts starting in the 1980s and 1990s and are concentrated in villages near Chiang Rai and Chiang Mai. The Thai government has restricted their freedom of movement — they cannot obtain Thai citizenship or work permits and are largely confined to designated areas. The neck rings do not actually elongate the neck; they push down the collar bones and ribs. Human rights organisations have criticised the commercialisation of these villages as exploitative, while others argue the tourism income is the community's primary economic resource. The debate about whether visiting helps or harms remains genuinely unresolved.
"Mixed feelings whether helping them by visiting or hurting them by being part of the demand that keeps them there like that."