A Journey Down the Maekok River, Northern Thailand
Nestled in steamy grass huts perched on the riverside, we awoke to a familiar sound; a rooster, bellowing out his morning tune, and waking all 60 villagers in the process.
In a heartbeat, I could hear an axe chopping down 30 foot tall bamboo trees. The hand sharpened blades cut through the reeds like butter. Little did we know, but those bamboo trees would soon become our lifeline, as we prepared to descend the mighty Maekok River. Men took pieces from the reeds fibrous shafts, and used them to lash the bamboo poles into a 24 foot long flotation device, which would enable us to navigate white water as well. All of our camera equipment was perched precariously on a bamboo tripod, and we did all we could to keep it high and dry.
The villagers had a well defined division of labor; the women would do all of the cooking and cleaning; they also took care of the children. The men built rafts (the only form of transportation on the Maekok) and fortified the houses made of grass and bamboo. With one arm around her child on the waters edge, I saw a woman pulling out tadpoles from a mesh bag- this was considered a delicacy in the Northern Thai Province of Chang Mai.
Just as we entered the river, I felt a warm rush of 90 degree water flowing down from above, released with a loud, bellowing sound. Peering around I thought we had been the victim of a teenage prank, then looked skyward to catch the culprit- a 10 foot tall elephant who was ‘water-boarding’ our crew!
We learned that elephants in the hill tribe region of Thailand are respected and revered; essentially they are part of the family. They are enormous creatures, and highly intelligent. For decades, they were used extensively in the teak forests, to haul away the trees. I was amazed to discover that elephants could live up to 75 years, and would work daily for half a century or more.
Riding an elephant can be a challenging ordeal, and our guides provided a few tricks of the trade. We were wearing shorts, and our exposed legs felt like they were being torn apart by the wiry hair on the elephants back. After a four hour ride, I walked away like a bow legged cowboy, with a trail of blood where my legs had been chaffed, almost beyond recognition!
Climbing back on the bamboo raft, we passed numerous villages. Naked tribal kids with joyous expressions and no tan lines jumped into the 80 degree water, and would cling to the side of our raft, hoping to climb onboard. Each tribe had its own language; often quite different from the neighboring village. Speaking to each other in their native tongue was clearly a way for them to maintain their identity. None of them spoke traditional Thai, and very few knew English; clearly this was well before electricity and the internet appeared in the outlying villages.
Though the tribes were just a few miles apart along the river, the language as well as the dress in each village was definitely unique. Bold, colorful clothing was part of their cultural identity, and elaborate metal headdresses were common. The more metal a woman was wearing, the higher her prestige and position within the village hierarchy. Older women would often be seen smoking pipes or hand made cigars.
After about seven hours of descending white water and fast moving currents, with monkeys flying just over our heads, we were preparing to pull into another village, which would become our final destination on the Maekok River.
It was here that we realized a true sense of camaraderie amongst the hill tribe people. Our bamboo raft had served us well, and we had arrived intact, 16 miles from the Karan village. I asked Dare ‘What would become of our raft?’ He replied, ‘By tomorrow it will become a house!’ Apparently recycling has been a way of life here for thousands of years- everything is shared and nothing goes to waste. What a great way to live!