Pai-holed and Tranquil

I’ve never really gone to a hippie sanctuary like Pai. New Orleans is more a voodoo town. Boulder is like spin-class Millennial Heaven. Cat Ba and Holbox are more touristic. There are other little villages like it, I’m sure. But Pai is, and always will be, my home.

This little slice of Heaven is part hippie, part backpacker resort, part jungle, and definitely Thailand.

I make it here in the rainy season, making it calmer than normal. Time slows down, speeds up, and becomes disassociated with the rotation of the sun; rather it’s the fickle rains, the events, and whatever adventure you want that matters most. Sometimes it’s scooter trips for coffee or bubble tea. Sometimes it’s for waterfalls or hot springs or jungle treks. Sometimes temples or meditation retreats. Or visa runs. One time it was on the back of a pickup truck as we parade around the town for Thailand’s Mother’s Day.

It had begun like any other day. I pour myself a sad but free cup of coffee and greet the fitful sun shine. I look out to one of two main roads crossing the town past the driveway of the hostel. The dogs bark, ages before the little parade comes into view. We see maybe two dozen marching, dressed celebratory garments. In the vehicle caravan, a live 4 piece band, guitar, bass, drums, tambourine on a truck bed. Two more trucks bring large ceremonial arrangements including a potted tree, decorated with offerings.

I walk to the road to get a better look, waving at the cheerful Thai people. Bee, seated upon the vehicle with the decorated tree, waves back and asks if I would like to join him. I enthusiastically agree and climb aboard.

We chitchat about nothing as the parade winds around the town, collecting offerings from the people, playing music, and generally being merry. I occasionally join with the tambourine. One time I received a donation from a Thai person and try to offer blessing back, like Bee had been doing whenever someone gave bills. I admire the sacrifices tied to the tree, which range from toothbrushes to cheesepuffs to handwritten notes.

We’re joined by a German couple that also agree to the adventure of riding in a flatbed.

Eventually we reach the temple where the offerings are given up to the altar and the Germans and I head back to the hostel, for beers and merriment. That day, one of our friends has comeback from the meditation retreat and we are joyous at their return. I play snappa with some new American guests. We lounge in the pool, enjoying the sunshine.

At night, a handful of Czechs, a different German, a Liverpool native, my fellow Brooklynite, and I have beers and smoke weed around the table. We get dinner in the night market, tea leaf salad and rose bud tea.

I turn in early; we have a visa extension the next day; requiring a two hour motorbike drive to another town for the visa office. It is a gorgeous ride; we look over two mountain ranges and for lunch have the most excellent Koa Soy. We arrive back at Purple Monkey where, for my shift, we play drinking games and go out to the town.

It’s the same bars, same parties, just-about the same people. It’s not much, but it’s home.

These are the days in Pai. Filled with nothing and adventure all at once. The literal day before I have nothing written on my calendar, because I cannot remember a thing that happened except hanging out in the hammocks and talking shit with my friends.

Weeks would fly by, but days would crawl.  We’d make plans and then have them cancelled by rain. We’d pass the time with pool or cards or beers or weed. We’d have the most amazing adventures or the most innocuous days out, nights out.

The community was amazing. The amount of friends I’d make. The amount of people I got to know. How much they really cared about me as a person; Rob, Toby, Manny, Bobo, Rowan, Yo.

Maegan, Jeff, Poi, Ziggy, Tae, Oa, Dangmo, Yaya, Bo, Zing, Neung

Tobi, Jannik, Roy, Alex, Tamar, Dale, Caitlyn, Alicia, Eden, Tom. We’re family now.

Snare and her friends and family.

Pom, Kim, Craigo, Clay, Doogle, George, Ruthie, Eddie, Harry, Harry, Jack, Sara, Shannon, Natalie, Tasha

Talon, Bar, Dusty, Nicolas, Josh, Mae, Astrid, Tori, Hugh, Nick, Mark. Great performers and humans.

Autumn, Wood, Dee, Gee, God, Alpha Dog,

Jordan.

Chad.

Max and Flo and Gayle and Daow, Bee, Sang

Wood, Grulg, Oliver, Remy, of course Kai

The puppies, Noodle, Moose, Pepper. Death Wish. Millie and Guinness. The cats. Kink. Mini.

I’m forgetting people. A lot of people, I expect. But I dearly miss them all. I expect I’ll see them all again, still bumming in the hammocks, smoking, chatting, enjoying the passing moments without a care except love and joy.

Some places change. Some places don’t. Pai has a little magic, that might just keep it the same forever. Or at least until I get back.

Love. True Love.

Winston

Some Random photos from an Art Gallery I wandered about in Bangkok