The Farmer in the Dell

Leaving Tham Lod, we were distracted by a sign. A simple sign reading "temple" with an arrow pointing to the right. Let's check it out, we thought, maybe watch the sunset from a majestic mountaintop wat. Sergio, Karina, Rosie, and I walked down the dirt road awhile in search of this imagined paradise. Meandering through dips, curves, and forks in the road we crossed a dam and discovered a gazebo in the middle of nowhere. Karina left our mark in black ink on the ceiling. 

We never found the temple. But what we did come across was far more remarkable.

A man approached Karina while the rest of us relaxed in our gazebo. She had crossed back over the dam into a field, determined to find this elusive temple. The man gestured for her to follow him. Karina communicated this to our group by yelling across the river. We followed.

The man led us to a small village across the field, four or five huts arranged loosely between papaya trees. He welcomed us into his hut, a simple, three-wall structure with a wide open entrance and deck. We removed our shoes and sat in a semicircle on the deck, a bowl of bananas between us. He encouraged us to eat, so we ate. The man disappeared into another hut for awhile, leaving us to enjoy our tiny bananas and chat amongst ourselves.

We decided he was a farmer and this was one of those hill tribes we'd all heard about. For many tourists in Thailand, the hill tribes are just another attraction: relatively expensive tours can be arranged in which one goes trekking for several days and visits "authentic" hill tribes. Such tours are a source of controversy in Thailand because of concerns that these people are being exploited. Many of the hill tribe people are Burmese refugees, not Thai citizens. Therefore their rights are limited and it's unlikely that they see much, if any, of the money brought in by tourism. An extreme example of this is the fabricated Karen longneck villages, described by some as "human zoos". Ethical tourism is a vast topic beyond the scope of this blog post, so if you want more info start with CNN's coverage of the issue here: CNN article.

Our farmer friend returned, this time with a woman - who we assumed to be his wife - and some fresh-cut papaya. They also brought out peanut flavored candies (similar in taste to Butterfinger) and some hot tea. We gratefully accepted, wishing we had something to offer in return. We sat around munching for awhile, attempting to communicate in broken Thai-English and watching the sun disappear behind the hills. Suddenly a monk appeared, presumably from the lost temple, and offered a blessing to our gracious hosts. In turn they gifted him a large papaya from a nearby tree. He was gone as swiftly and silently as he'd arrived.

At sundown the farmer man stood up. He went inside his hut and emerged with a large drum, nearly as long as he was tall. He began pounding away on it, playing music for us as the light faded. The woman joined in with a gong; we all stood up and clapped along. Karina and Rosie took turns on the drum while Sergio and I snapped photos. Despite communication barriers, we were reminded that music is a universal language understood by all. 

We thanked our hosts profusely at the end of the night before heading off into the dark jungle. We hadn't anticipated a walk back in the dark and were unprepared with only a couple tiny lights between us. It took some trial and error to find our way through the darkness, past a pack of barking dogs and back to Cave Lodge. We arrived at precisely 8 o'clock, when the kitchen was scheduled to close. We were very hungry. The staff took pity on us. We reminisced about our incredible day over a big tasty meal with beer and kombucha. I passed out not long after, exhausted.

What we shared was a truly authentic hill tribe experience. No tour, no money, no exploitation. The man invited us into his home and gave freely, expecting nothing in return. We gave what we could - laughter and thank-you's. And it was enough.

I recently contacted John Spies, owner of Cave Lodge and long-time resident of the Tham Lod area. He has spent years photographing hill tribes in the region and is considered the local expert on caves. I wanted to know more about our hosts and sent him a couple photos of the farmer.

John told me that the man is "a local Thai Shan from Tham Lod village". The Shan are a Southeast Asian ethnic group, primarily from Burma. So our friend may have been a Burmese refugee - and we may never know. It is interesting to note that we were less than ten miles from the Burmese border during our visit to Tham Lod.

These are the experiences I ventured to Thailand for. Connecting with people the world over; shared experiences as a common language. This is why I travel.