The gift of connecting

by randy knaggs (United States of America)

Making a local connection Thailand

As the airplane descended into the clouds towards Chiang Mai, I became anxious. First, with how bumpy our blind approach was and then, as the clouds below me parted, at just how extensive this urban area was. My angst only increased as the taxi driver drove and drove on winding roads through a tightly packed landscape; at first urban and then incrementally more agrarian. Then the GPS said we had arrived, but outside of the windshield was yet another maze of driveways, hedges, fences and cul de sacs. We persevered through the maze until the end of the last and smallest driveway. Entering tentatively, it opened into a small clearing with what looks like a castle tower under construction. We found ourselves unceremoniously deposited at the "Adobe Airbnb" at 10 in the morning. As I stepped out of the air-conditioned cab and was hit with the dense heat, I felt deflated and heard what I thought was the distant sound of aircraft approaching an airport. Our host, Max, materialized out of a banana grove and effusivly swept us into the kitchen to meet his wife Oue and sons Mon and Mai. In short order we found ourselves situated in a wonderful little hand built cabin and then, promptly, sitting across the farm table eating delicious Thai food served up by Oue. By mid-afternoon I had discovered that Max, an ex garment distributor, had given up that rat race job in Bangkok and started this biodynamic farm a little over 8 years ago. It was only three months ago that the family decided to open an Airbnb to share their joy of living so directly on the land with more people. On Facebook, he literally has hundreds following the building of his Adobe Castle, with hopes that it might one day house his family and be a gathering place for local Jazz musicians. One of the few previous guests had left a frisbee and by late afternoon, I was teaching Max and his boys how to play Frisbee golf and feeling very relaxed, happy and grounded. That evening, cool mountain air filled the valley and we fell into deep delicious sleep until about 4 in the morning, when I awoke to the sound of Monks chanting somewhere in the darkness. I silently dressed and slipped bare soled into the night. Outside, a single bright star hung in the south with a crescent moon suspended beneath it. I thread my way between dew soaked garden beds toward the raised provincial roadway. I pad quizzically toward the chanting voices. I shift the direction of my quest repeatedly, but must ultimately resign, as the ephemeral sound changes yet again. I steal my way back under the bed netting to drift asleep pondering if the quest had been real.....or but a dream. The last few days have been deliciously lazy hanging out on the farm, visiting the market, picking fruit and vegetables for the next meal. Seeds have been planted, adobe bricks have been made, ideas and laughter exchanged and time is seemingly slowing down. We find ourselves on the edges of both a large Inland agricultural plain and an outlying village. The air is thick with moisture each day and cool and clear by evening. Dawn comes with a gold soft lighting, and the sun passes away in the same golden hues. During the day, the horizon disappears too soon to discern just what's out of sight. At night, sound carries surreptitiously in from unknown origins. I seem to always hear music in the distance. I have been told unconvincingly that "it is birds calling", "a funeral", "a wedding", "a meeting" or "a celebration." Three days later, I now realize that what I thought were airliners in the distance, are actually dragons slowly making their way across the sky. If you would like to enrich your travel experience with local, person to person, contacts, try these three networks that strive to put your tourist dollar directly into the community. https://www.backstreetacademy.com/ https://www.airbnb.com/ https://www.homestay.com/ Randy is a retired outdoor educator perusing the world at a mindful, Parkinson's pace. Contact: rlknaggs@marlboro.edu https://parkinsonwarrior.com/