Chiang Mai Trance States

Mid-morning through our third day on the boat, we arrived at the Thai border in Chiang Khong. During the chaos of the border crossing, we lost Mac. Anyway he was headed in a different direction, but it would've been nice to say goodbye. All good, that's just how Mad Mac rolls.

A short bus ride brought us into Chiang Mai proper. There were we were greeted with the familiar sights of Thailand: tuktuks, pad thai, muay thai gyms and massage parlors. But I was surprised by how peaceful the city was, a far cry from rowdy Bangkok. The pace of life was slower by about three quarters, and the faces were composed and compassionate. No danger lurked in the air, instead there was an atmosphere of measured activity, reminding Anx of the quieter parts of Japan. 

A good place to spend one's retirement, and thus a fitting environment for the time being.

Long Necks and Noses

After all the relaxing and reflecting on the slowboat, we were ready for some activity. So the next day we went on a massive outing, beginning with a traditional Karen "Long Necked" village, where the women wore coils of brass rings around their necks, stretching them in a most unusual way. The standard of beauty dictated that the more coils a woman could fit around her neck, the more beautiful she was. 

As we walked through the village, the brass coils were everywhere, and the questions flooded my mind. Did the women wear these rings willingly, or was it forced upon them? Did it help them find a husband, or increase their importance in the village? Did it cause any health issues? Could they be taken off? 

It seemed such a painful process to undertake. But I reminded myself to reserve judgment, as an outsider without understanding. Meanwhile, young or old, the women didn't seem much bothered by it. When we approached the village school, little girls were already wearing the brass.

The village was largely open to tourists and rather commercial. The people were friendly, and had no problems posing for pictures or trying to sell their crafts. Aside from my natural curiosity, there was a disturbing feeling that they were being exploited. I later found out that the Karen people as a whole have been persecuted in nearby Myanmar for years, fighting oppression and fleeing to Thailand as refugees. Thai authorities keep them in tourist villages like this one, reportedly refusing to resettle them.

However, others mentioned that there are hundreds of such hill tribe villages, with only a small minority of them agreeing to open themselves up to tourism. They do so willingly, since it gives them a way to make a living in a country where they're not recognized as citizens, and otherwise have no access to education and employment. When the tourists leave, they return to their normal way of life.

I offered to buy Anx some brass coils, but she just rolled her eyes.

Moving on, we arrived at a clearing in the jungle to ride elephants. My prior experience with elephant riding was an unenjoyable one: the elephants had looked desolate and miserable, repeatedly beat by their handlers while trudging around in a neverending loop of toil. I was not looking forward to another example of animal cruelty.

It was therefore a pleasant surprise to see the handlers here treating the elephants like buddies. Anx and I hopped into a seat on top of a female elephant named Bobo. Though Bobo was saddled and chained, she was also young and smiling, seemingly enjoying the ride through the jungle as much as we did. She walked at her own pace, making frequent stops along the way to grab branches with her trunk to snack on. I had the feeling she  pretty much did whatever she wanted.

Halfway through the ride, Bobo's handler jumped off and invited me to take his spot, sitting astride her neck. This was way better than riding in the seat. Bobo's thick leathery hide was mottled and wrinkled, sprouting coarse hairs and rough to the touch. I didn't mind in the least. As we lumbered along, I hugged Bobo's head, reached down to pat her trunk and kissed the crown of her head. She responded by fanning her ears to make a breeze, cooling us both down. In that moment, Bobo was my favorite creature in the world.

We stopped at a stream to allow the parade of elephants to drink from it. Bobo bent down to dip her trunk in the water, when another elephant playfully sprayed water around. They were like children.

Jungle Falls

It was mid-afternoon when we started our jungle trek, crisscrossing a shallow stream as we followed it back to its source. On either side, a bamboo forest grew in arches, bending over the stream to catch the sunlight and giving us shade. Keeping a good pace, we stopped for a break at a clearing where some local folk made their homes in thatched huts.

The path continued over makeshift bridges and steep, sliding slopes. The sound of rushing water announced our destination before we saw it: a three-story waterfall forming a rock pool below. It wasn't quite as impressive as Kuang Si falls, but still magnificent in its own right. And this time I was prepared. While the others hesitated, I quickly stripped down to swimming trunks and clambered to the edge of the rock pool. All other sounds were drowned out; it was just me and the waterfall now. 

I dipped a foot into the freezing water and found a grip on the bottom, slowly wading forward. It wasn't far to the rock face, where the water roared as it crashed around me. I leaned into the transparent curtain, and was plunged into a shocking coldness. It beat down heavily, an intense massage and a test of willpower. Forced to close my eyes, there was nothing else but the coldness slapping against my head, shoulders and back. I tensed my muscles to posture up against the weight of the water, and held myself there until I got used to it. 

Emerging triumphant, I was thoroughly refreshed and energized. 

Mac & Swagger     

Anx and I were just beginning to explore the night markets, when lo and behold, who do we bump into but Mad Mac. No wonder there wasn't a goodbye before; we were destined to see him and his crazy antics once more. He'd spent the last two days who knows where, having just arrived in Chiang Mai when he ran into us. We proceeded to walk the night markets, having dinner and drinks in the process. Mac was obsessed with tiger balm, and bought a lifetime's supply. To him it was the greatest thing ever. 

After making us drink some bright-green shots from a street bar lady, Mac disappeared to regroup at his hostel. Anx and I waited for him at a night lounge, dancing up a storm in the process. 

When we decided to call it a night, our parting impression of Mac was him drinking Thai white whiskey, sitting on the curb outside a convenience store. He was with a newfound friend who called himself Mick Swagger. A loud and rambunctious character who was good with the street dogs but definitely drunk, or crazy. Or both.

Silver Temple

Chiang Mai is a city of temples. Throughout its history, each successive king sought to leave his legacy by building Buddhist monastery-temples (or wats) during his reign, resulting in there being over 200 wats in and around the city proper.  Anx and I originally planned to do a meditation retreat here in Wat Doi Suthep, on top of the mountain overlooking the city. An extended period of silence appealed to both of us, eager to quiet our minds from the noise and nonstop action of Hong Kong. Sadly, we didn't have the time for a full ten-day retreat.

We did however set aside an entire day to visit some of the notable temples of the city. Anx befriended a tuktuk boss lady who assigned us one of her drivers to take us around for the day.

Once we stepped on the first temple grounds, we saw Wat Sri Suphan, the Silver Temple, off to the right. But it was the temple in front of us that captured my attention. A gold and silver Buddha sat on either side of its entrance. As I stood admiring it, a group of pigeons took flight. Instinctively, I took out my camera and snapped a picture. What I  captured was a pure white pigeon, like a dove, frozen in mid-flight in the middle of the two Buddha statues. I looked up to find the flock of pigeons on the roof of the temple, but the white one had disappeared. 

It was immediately obvious which building was the Silver Temple, as the entire surface of the building was encased in silver, intricately detailed into murals. As is common in Thailand, there were horn-like protrusions along the ridges of the roof, making the temple look like a fierce mythical creature. Twin statues guarded the ten steps leading to the entrance, with tails like serpents, flowing into the figures of men. Inside, the walls and ceiling were covered in gold. Flash photography was useless here, because the picture came out as one big gold reflection. 

We explored the beautiful temple grounds. Next to a ceramic pond with a floating purple lotus was a sign indicating that a monk would be available for chats in English. We made a note to come back at the appointed time.

The next Wat was not as memorable for its architecture, as for the smiling old monk with warm eyes who turned his attention to us. When I approached him, a wave of calm spread over me, as if an unseen aura surrounded the man. Somehow his very presence was reassuring. He could see we were travelers, and tied bracelets of white string around Anx's wrist and mine, invoking the blessing of Buddha to watch over us on our journeys. I'm not a Buddhist, but the act did not contradict my beliefs. The road ahead was long, and I was thankful for the blessing. 

After some more temple touring, we returned to the grounds of the Silver Temple, where I meditated at the base of a large banyan tree. Half an hour later, I came out of trance and looked up to see an upturned crescent moon smiling at me. It was the first time I'd ever seen a moon shaped this way, and I smiled back.

Under this crescent moon had our conversation with the monk. He was from a poor family in Cambodia, and through the course of his life ended up here in Thailand, able to speak four languages. Anx and I had been discussing Buddhist concepts on our journey, and had many questions for him. He was happy to explain, clearly relishing the opportunity to practice his English, making it a fruitful exchange. Before long, the hour was over. Much had been clarified, but there was so much more to learn.

Hypnosis

Anx heard about Chiang Mai being a spiritual place, and came here looking for spirituality, whether meditation, yoga or otherwise. Before meeting me in Luang Prabang, she stayed a night in Chiang Mai and saw an advertisement for a hypnotist. She exchanged emails with the guy to feel it out. He himself had felt drawn to hypnosis as a child, and then again much later, after establishing a career in Silicon Valley. He left the Valley and came to Thailand in pursuit of a calling. Besides hypnosis, he also had other spiritual practices such as Reiki and tarot reading. It sounded legit so she made an appointment, seeing it as another way of finding out more about herself. 

I was skeptical, since the only hypnotism I'd ever witnessed was where the hypnotist made people do stupid things for an audience's amusement. But apparently that's stage hypnosis, which is something entirely different. I offered to go with Anx, but this was something she had to do on her own.

When she came back, she described the experience as a profound one. There was no swinging watch or fancy tricks involved...these were all features of show hypnotism, far removed from the hypnotherapy that he practiced. Instead, he had her relax, focus on her breathing and slowly enter into a calm, trance-like state. She remained lucid throughout, aware of what was going on and retaining control. He guided her through  certain visualizations, scenes of water and mountain, picturesque and peaceful. At his suggestion, she came face to face with her inner child, embracing the little girl and sending her images of love. 

The inner child, along with her teenage self, were the parts of her psyche she'd been protecting all her adult life. Anx had been focusing on her problems of the last few months: winning her boyfriend back, finding direction in her career, her perceived status in society. The hypnotherapist guided her to penetrate the veils and layers built up over the years, to directly access the inner core of her being, the places in her mind that even she had forgotten about. 

Perhaps the pursuits of life—beauty, education, career, boyfriend, luxury and status—were all driven by an unconscious need to feel loved. The barriers being removed led her to see that perhaps deep down, she did not feel loved. Maybe she didn't love herself,  fully and unconditionally. Perhaps there was a deep-rooted belief that she would only be worthy if she was associated to these external labels. Constant striving and activity, chasing rewards to fill the void.

What an epiphany! Lucid as she was during this trancelike realization, tears started streaming down uncontrollably, as she faced this unloved girl in front of her. Anx was beginning to understand herself from the centre of her being, and could therefore start facing the root of her problems. The road ahead was long and uncertain, but it was definitely a critical first step.

The results of a single 90-minute session were astonishing, and won me over from my prior skepticism. I didn't feel the need to do it myself, but I was now open to the idea of hypnotherapy and its potential for spiritual healing.

We Ready For the Road...

And so it was that Anx and I parted ways in Chiang Mai: she on a plane back to Hong Kong, me on a train to Bangkok, en route to Myanmar. It had been quite the journey for us both. Whatever we were looking for, we found some of it. There were ever more questions, but also renewed hope. 

I considered it a privilege to see Anx's marked transformation. I could feel a transformation happening in myself as well. Slowly, I was learning to trust in my intuition. I was beginning to see that the omens were all around me. They guided the way, and told me I was on the right path.

  

Emerald Buddha