After Chiang Mai, it was time to brave the legendary 1864 curves to Mae Hong Son, close to the Burmese border. Although the distance between the two cities is only 200km, the bus took over 6 hours. Mae Hong Son is a sleepy little town on the edge of a small lake, nestled in a valley. The dry season is the time for burning the fallen leaves, apparently to prevent larger firest spreading incontrollably. These small, controlled fires nevertheless produce a haze, the landscape looks eerie and dreamy, but unfortunately not green and luscious. Mae Hong Son is the best place to visit tribes on the Burmese border, including the famous Long-Neck tribes.
Now, the decision on whether or not to visit these tribes is one open to debate. I personally wanted to see these women, so I made my research. Contrary to popular belief, the women do not feel pain. The village charges an entry fee which is collected by the Karenni National Progressive Party, a party fighting for the independence of their territory from Myanmar (Burma) rule, which in turn pays the women a monthly salary. I thought it was a fair agreement. The Long-Neck tribes call themselves Kayan, although the terms Karen or Padaung are also used. The custom of wearing neck rings stretches back centuries; various reasons are given. Some say it's to enchance beauty by emphasising a slender neck, or perhaps the exact opposite, the rings are worn to make women less attractive to neighbouring tribes, thus reducing their chance to be captured as slaves. Another explaination can be traced back to the legend of the origin of Kayan people. According to the legend, women are descendents of a female dragon; hence, neck rings are worn to resemble their ancestor. To read the legend, go to http://huaypukeng.com/legend.htm.
Whatever the original reason, neck rings are worn nowadays for cultural identity, and to generate income by attracting tourists. However, I must admit that the village did not have a 'human zoo' feeling. It was indeed touristy, with women weaving scarves and bags to sell, but it did not feel as we were intruding. Unfortunately our guide spoke little English, and the villagers could only say 'want to buy?'. I guess it's the heritage of khaki-clad package tourists, which come, take a picture and buy a bag at an inflated price. I visited because I wanted to know more about their life, but I had to resort to read up by myself. Sorry, a little rant is now in order. Many people think the behaviour of taking photos is gross and disrespectful. In many cases, it is not. My husband travels the world portraying people, animals and landscapes with the aim of creating something beautiful, and educating others on what is 'out there'. Please tell me what is gross or disrespectful about this. An inage of a Kayan woman can be used to illustrate the wonderful legend of the Mother Dragon, or to raise awareness on the brutality of military regime in Myanmar, reason why these tribes have fleed to Thailand.
Fast-forward a couple of days and we're in Pai, at Bueng Pai Farm. After 8 months of travelling, this place comes as a little slice of paradise between the hills and the paddy fields. Imagine a small lake surrounded by bamboo-thatched bungalows. Imagine a little restaurant serving delicious food with home-grown vegetables. Imagine silence, the possibility of fishing from the deck of your own bungalow, contemplating the peace and stillness of the moment you're living. We are here now, and we do not want to leave... the beauty of travelling, finding a nice little place where everything is just right. Not being tied by the '3 days, 2 night' thing, or an impending flight back to Europe. So we might stay an extra day, to wake up for a day of fishing, relax and total idleness.
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