24 October 2008 - Paduang Village, First Visit

Paduang Village - First Visit

Yesterday, I wrote about attending a Karen wedding on 23 October 2006. The wedding was not the only memorable event that day.

After the wedding, I returned to my hotel to transfer to a 4 wheel drive vehicle. I received word that my missing luggage would arrive on the 2:15 PM flight from Chiang Mai - after 4 days!

Arrival of my luggage was critical - my digital camera battery was running down and my spares were in my luggage. My daily medication for hypothyroidism was also in the luggage.

The purpose of getting into a 4 wheel drive pickup truck was to drive up the mountain in the national park and visit two hill tribe villages. The road was unbelievable. In many places it was washed out. Ruts, gullies, mud slides, and fallen boulders were everywhere. The road or rather what was left of it, was extremely steep. The amazing thing was the number of people that we passed or almost hit. The road is used daily by the villagers. They use motorbikes to go back and forth to their village.

After awhile we gave up and went back down the mountain for lunch. After lunch, I returned to the hotel to await the arrival of my promised luggage. Later in the afternoon I was scheduled to visit the "Long Necked Karen" village. I desperately needed my spare batteries for my digital camera to photograph the Paduang people.

The flight from Chiang Mai had been delayed 15 minutes due to weather - Maehongson is not called the Land of the Three Mists without reason. However that afternoon the mist was a torrential downpour. One thing that you become accustomed to in Thailand is being wet - you are either wet from perspiration or from precipitation. After awhile you realize and accept that it doesn't really matter if you are wet from perspiration or from rain. You are wet. You will be wet. Life will go on.

I have made concessions to the wet reality. I no longer wear jeans - they take too long to dry out - if they ever dry out. I now wear thin cotton slacks. I have mostly given up on wearing cotton long sleeved shirts. I wear polyester tee shirts. The combination is quick drying and much more comfortable. An addition benefit is the clothing is much more compact to pack in a small carryon bag for travel. Duang and I can travel for a week with just a single carry-on bag for the both of us. Of course I carry a separate backpack just for the camera gear.

I got a phone call at the hotel - my bag was on its way from the local airport. It arrived! I rushed to my room, changed digital camera battery, took extra batteries, grabbed extra digital media cards, and grabbed umbrella as well as raincoat. I was on my way to the Long Neck Karen Village.

To get to the village we had to cross at least six fast flowing streams where evidence of recent flooding was obvious. We passed some elephant camps along the way. Elephants used to be used for harvesting logs in the forest. Thailand, in conservation efforts, has eliminated much of its forestry industry. The trained elephants are out of work. The elephants and their individual life long trainers (mawhut) now cater to tourists. At the camps, tourists can learn how to train and handle elephants, see demonstrations of elephant behaviors, and go on treks riding the elephants.

At one point along a stream there were three or four small dirt mounds about the size of a medium sized cooking pot. Suspended from tree branches above the mounds were white gauze like streamers with red lettering. I asked the guide about the site.

He told me a very sad story. Aman, his wife, and their daughter had drowned there on 11 October. The deceased man was a friend of my guide.

The drowned man was a artist, a painter, from the Long Neck Karen Village. He was handicapped without any legs. His wife was also handicapped - I got the impression that she was mentally handicapped. They tried to cross the flooded stream on their motorbike and drowned. They left behind two other daughters in the village - very sad indeed.

Upon arrival at the village, I paid 250 baht ($7.50 USD) to enter. The village is actually a refugee camp. The Long Neck Karen people are a subgroup of the Karen people called the "Paduang". They are refugees from the civil war in Burma. Some of the Karen people have been fighting for the past 15 years against the government of Burma to establish a Karen nation. As a result of the rebellion, the Karen people are persecuted by the Burmese regime. Due to the unique appearance of the Paduang women, copper coils around their neck, they are easy targets for the Burmese troops. As a result many have fled to Thailand.

As we entered the village we passed a small shop where the dead painter's paintings were on display along with a collection box for his surviving children.

Past the shop and across a wooden bridge which spans a stream that flows along the edge of the camp, I saw some long necked women. They are tending booths where you can purchase handicrafts. The women are stunning - absolutely beautiful. They are very friendly and extremely photogenic. I arrived in the late afternoon so there were not that many tourists in the village.

The camp is no worse than the others that I had been to in Thailand. It was obvious that the inhabitants are trying to make a living. I did not see any signs of exploitation at all. Entrance fees help the community. The people are refugees and cannot leave the camp to work in towns or cities.

I stopped at one of the booths and started to take photographs. People in Asia are much more casual about being photographed than in America. I believe that in Asia, they consider it to be a compliment that you would be interested enough in them to take their photograph. In America, I think that we are more territorial and suspicious - perhaps suspicious that someone will make a dollar off of our image.

The Paduang woman had a small guitar type instrument which she played as she sang. It was fantastic. She invited me to sit upon the bench behind the booth. I spent some time there shooting photographs and talking to her. I find out that no one has forced her to wear the rings. She chooses to wear them as part of her culture and tradition. Everything is relaxed and comfortable in the camp. The children are adorable.

I moved along to another stall. This woman is young and gorgeous. Her husband is with her. She plays guitar and has a wonderful voice. She has painted gold leave designs on her cheeks. My guide knows the family. The young husband is proud of his wife for she is the most beautiful woman in the camp. She is also very talented.

I compliment the husband on being so fortunate. I told him that he did not look like he was 29 years old and that it must be because his wife takes such good care of him. They have a son and a daughter. I spent a great deal of time photographing his wife.

As she was playing the guitar and singing, I recognized the tune. It was a tune that I had heard many times before - "Jambalaya" by Hank Williams. I started to sing the song in English. We ended up singing a duet four times - she in her language and me in English. Villagers came by and gave their approval. Tourists stopped and listened - confused by it all.

Her husband went off to the side of their living quarters where he was barbequing some pork. He returned and offered me to eat with them. The wild pork was delicious. Khun La Mae is the headman of the camp. He speaks some English. We spent time speaking politics and the the plight of the Karen people. He invited me to spend the night in the camp. Unfortunately I had already paid for the room in town. I promise to send him copies of my photos, and he had the guide take our picture a couple of times.

I moved on through the village. I played with some children for awhile - throwing a small plastic ball up on the thatched roof of the hut and trying to catch it as it rolls off the roof. The children were a great deal of fun - giggling, chattering, and highly animated - completely uninhibited.

After playing with the children, I wandered about some more and came upon a young mother breast feeding her baby. We made eye contact and she appeared receptive so through pantomime I requested her permission to take photographs. She graciously consented. I got one of the best photographs that I had ever taken - "Madonna of the Refugee Camp"
After 2-1/2 hours, it was getting dark and it was time to leave the camp. I really enjoyed it there.

So ended my first trip to the camp. I returned two more times but those are stories for another day.