Things I like about Chiang Mai (Chiang Mai Part Two)

1. Khao Soy

From the first spoonful, I knew I was in love.  A thick, gloriously rich curry broth, it filled my mind with memories of laksa.  As I plunged into this bowl at the bus station -- my first Chiang Mai meal -- I was completely focused.  Tuktuk and songtao drivers honked and called to me, but I was on another plane.  Of course, I had big stomach troubles for about 36 hours after, but it was worth it.  Dinner tonight is at Just Khao Soy, the chic place to get it.  Fingers crossed!

2. Wat Doi Suthep
There's nothing to upset a stomach like the windy 17km road up the mountainside to Doi Suthep, but nothing to calm it again like the peaceful view, sitting atop the mount at the temple, listening to monks (and tourists) ringing bells, sipping my coffee, writing in my journal. 

I met this novice monk, "A," on the 309 steps to the temple.  He and his two monk friends cornered me to practice their English. Nervously reading from his notes, A would ask "How do you find the reather here in Thailand?"

"The reather?"

"The reather. Oh, the... the weather?"

"It's great!"

"And are you married?"

One of the other monks videotaped the whole thing, shaking with excitement.

3. The Chiang Mai Zoo
I'm sure this zoo rates low on the morality and cleanliness scales.  But on the awesomeness scale, it gets 120%!  It's huge -- it took four hours to walk at a decent pace!  It has pandas!  And they let me feed the animals!!!  Best of all, though, on this scorching weekday, it was completely empty.  I mean completely.  There were points where I would walk for ten or fifteen minutes and not see another person. 

I happened upon a mahout playing the mandolin for an elephant, who was gleefully dancing without an audience.  (Yes, the elephant was dancing!)  I stood and watched, and the mahout tossed a handful of bananas into the animal's mouth. 

He then offered me some bananas, which I nervously took, then threw into the elephant's face.  Whoops.  I tried again, and got his head.  On my third toss, I almost got them in, but still hit the poor elephant (lightly, I assure you.)  As I said: moral scale?  Low.  Awesome scale?  Really high.

I fared far better with the giraffe.  I woman sold me a bunch of bananas for 20B, and let me wander off to feed this guy -- from my hand -- all alone.  Again, nobody else was around. 

An electric bus would occasionally drive by, stuffed with tourists taping from their seats, but it was rare.  One couple, on a date, stood beside me as I fed a growling cheetah raw meat on a stick.  Two couples sat with me as I watched the lions wrestle.  And a dozen eager parents photographed their kids, with Cheung Cheung the panda lazily munching bamboo stalks in the background. 

Overwhelmed with joy, disbelief, and glee for these four hours, I couldn't resist buying an ice cream, to complete the sense of the childhood dream come true.  I don't even like ice cream.  It was that fun.

Finally, I walked into the scheduled 3pm penguin feeding.  Instead of the huge crowd of gawking screaming schoolkids that I should have expected, there was me, and the feeder.  And twenty penguins slurping down fish.  And that's it.  I laughed.  I laughed loud.  I ran up and down the feeding tank, videotaping everything, needing to keep the absurdity of it all.  (And for the record, Leeann, none of these penguins seemed deranged.)

Things I like the least about Chiang Mai?

1) The Chiang Mai Arts & Cultural Center, which lulls you into sonambulism with the awful displays, each of which is progressively more boring, before thrusting you unexpectedly into a darkened full-immersion waxwork display that's meant to give you a feeling of market life in CM of olde.  Instead of an incredible Madame Tusseauds experience, the rotting faces and evil grins made it a nightmare from the plague.  I held my breath as I tiptoed through nervously, sure that museum employees were about to leap out at me.

2) The Insect Museum. 

The owner/founder/curator/resident artist calls it the quirkiest museum in all of Chiang Mai, and charges, as admission, twice what my guesthouse costs on a nightly basis.  And it's terrible.  A billion mosquitoes stuck on boards, some mounted spectacles (to represent our inability to see), and some Santa Fe-style paintings.  I know my quirk.  And I know my bad.  And this was somewhere on the "lousy" side of both.