Leaving Chiang Mai

Trip Start Dec 29, 2007

Trip End Mar 10, 2008

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Where I stayed

Awana Guest House

(Chiang Mai hotels)

Flag of Thailand Chiang Mai, Thailand
Monday, February 18, 2008

My last few days in Luang Prabang were simply outstanding in spite of the weather, which was dreary, overcast, and bone-chilling for this time of year. Since I had done most of my trekking earlier in the week, I was able to dedicate myself fully to the pursuits of bargain shopping, eating French pastries, and drinking Lao coffee. Prior to arriving in Luang Prabang, I had lost about twenty pounds since I started my trip seven weeks ago, but I'm pretty sure that I regained five of those in fresh croissants during my one week in Laos. C'est la vie.

On Saturday morning, I woke up at 5:30 a.m. so I could watch the monks on their morning alms round through Luang Prabang. It was an awesome sight, with hundreds of saffron-clad bodhisattva making their way in silence down the main drag. Unfortunately, it was also a major tourist attraction, with hordes of foreigners taking pictures at distances that seemed inappropriately close (isn't this why they made zoom lenses, I thought?)

Luang Prabang Main Drag

. I didn't take a single shot, deciding I didn't want to add to the feeding frenzy.

I caught an early afternoon flight and landed in Chiang Mai an hour later. The weather was sweltering as usual, and I quickly checked into the Awana Guest House and changed into shorts and a t-shirt. This is the fourth separate occasion I've stayed at Awana in less than two months, and it has become my home away from home. Ron and his staff always have my regular room set aside, allow me to store my luggage while I'm away, and are friendly to a fault. That's Awana House at 7 Ratchadamnoen Road, Lane 1, next to Thapae Gate in Chiang Mai!!

This was to be my last few days in Chiang Mai, so I took advantage of my time here, gobbling down several bowls of kao sawy and mango with sticky rice, getting a haircut for $4, enjoying numerous foot massages, and having an early dinner with my friends, Matt and Maddie, who were just married last week in Ko Samui. I took one last trip to Wat Suan Dok to have some amulets blessed and made a quick jaunt to the train station to purchase my ticket for the sleeper train to Bangkok.

I also decided to explore the northern edge of the city, which was the one area of Chiang Mai where I hadn't spent much time. You can find some of the more upscale tourist hotels here, as well as a handful of American-based specialty stores and shops. Within a few minutes, I found myself walking into the Centre, which is one of two modern shopping malls in the city. It was everything that the traditional Thai markets are not - a characterless, vast, climate-controlled space with Muzak piped in through the ceiling, and escalators and elevators taking you to chain stores selling grossly-overpriced goods and services

Garden Buddha in LP

. There was a Dunkin' Donuts, a Dairy Queen, a Sizzler's Steakhouse, and of course, a Starbucks. The sales counters were manned by surly teenagers who would clearly rather be anywhere else but here. The whole scene was ugly, crass, and inauthentic.

And, of course, I felt strangely at home.

Back in the states, I avoid shopping malls like the plague, and one the joys of living in a large, American city is that you can usually go about your daily life without having to set foot in one. But I grew up across the street from one in Columbia, Maryland, a town that was founded by the inventor of the modern shopping center. Malls are part of my genetic makeup, and I imagine that the love-hate relationship I have for them is similar to most Americans.

I walked into the Centre's flagship department store, Wacoal. Outside of the fact that the shoppers were mostly Asian, you could have easily imagined you were at a Macy's in suburban Baltimore. Women browsed through the selection of new-season purses and designer dresses, while their husbands and boyfriends shuffled their feet and waited impatiently. I walked past the lingerie section, where a handful of brave men were trying in vain to look cool holding shopping bags. I've never seen such a huge array of women's undergarments in a single place - the section took up almost the entire floor.

While I didn't linger long (I only tried on a few things), I noticed that Wacoal catered almost exclusively to the "A" cup demographic, which makes sense given the combination of the small, natural bounty granted to most Asian women and the fact that the silicone revolution has thankfully not yet arrived in Thailand

My Guesthouse in LP

. As many of you know, I am grateful for breasts in any and all sizes, so it made no real difference to me. However, I would suggest to my more well-endowed female readers that if you're planning a trip to Asia in the near future, you may want to bring an ample supply of your own bras, as you will likely find the in-store stock somewhat limited.

I exited Wacoal, walked past several fashionable women's shoe outlets - again, with a disproportionate array of shiny shoes for tiny feet - and made for the door after spending a few minutes curiously observing some sort of children's "American Idol"-esque competition on a makeshift stage. As I left the Centre, a feeling of sadness gripped my heart. With the import of shopping malls, I thought, it's just a matter of time before the Thai are as overweight, debt-ridden, and perpetually unsatisfied as Americans. God bless the U.S.A.

I jumped in a songthaew (red truck) and headed straight for the Sunday Walking Market, a glorious two-mile stretch of road closed off to traffic once a week and filled with local vendors selling artwork, jewelry, and other handicrafts, as well as some of the most delicious and mouth-watering food I've had since arriving in Thailand. I bought a few souvenirs, ordered one last bowl of mango and sticky rice (for sixty cents), and met a group of gorgeous young women visiting from Atlanta (side note to my brother, Jason: they live pretty much right next door to you in Midtown, so I'm working on getting some digits for you). Bali, who grew up not so far from Columbia in the D.C. suburbs, said that they were only in Chiang Mai for a couple of days and asked me what they should see while they were in town.

I did not suggest a trip to the mall.