WHAT THE NECK?

 

The initial shock and discomfort is such that despite being aware of it, having seen pictures and even documentaries, the first encounter is an unnerving experience. I kept feeling my neck and ensuring that not only was I breathing normally but that I could gulp down saliva without any pain and of course, talk.  If that sounds dramatic, it was indeed to some extent. We were at the Long Neck Karen Village in extreme North Chiang Mai, close to the Burma (still find it difficult to say Myanmar!) border and the first sight of a beautiful young mother with her neck circled by enormous brass rings, with an adorable baby on her lap, was something like being hurtled into Alice in Wonderland domain where things were not what they appeared to be. It was unnerving truly even though the mind, and the ticker up within the head said loud and clear that it was a touristy village perfectly laid out to entice gullible tourists like us. All I could think and that too with dread, even as the young mother posed for the camera, was does a similar fate await the young baby girl on her lap? Suddenly all I wanted to do was envelop my daughter in my arms even though she was far away.

Getting inside the Karen Village started on a wrong note. The guy manning the entry said it was 500 Baht per head. We were the only tourists there and peeking in all we could see was a narrow lane flanked tightly by small shops selling every souvenir. Too much, we said. For the upkeep of the village, he said. Still too much, we replied. He waved us away; we did an about turn and walked off. The alternative was either the Tiger Kingdom or the Elephant Poopoo Park. It didn't require any voting, the Poopoo attraction held sway. When we stepped out of the elephant park (more of that later) after a delightful morning, guess whom we ran into outside the gate - the sullen man from the Karen Village. Like an foggy Zamindar from pre-independant India, he said he was ready to give us a discount and it would be 300 Baht per head. We took it, some among us with much cajoling.

From the moment we stepped inside the bamboo barricade we knew the Karen Village was a touristy trap with shops every which way you look, elaborately dressed  Karen women and girls holding centre stage in the well-orchestrated tableau, some weaving on looms, some posing pretty as a picture and most of them trying to peddle some ware or the other from hand loom fabrics to silver trinkets. There was not a single man around and it was an all women show! 

But soon we found ourselves caught up in the novelty of it all, especially when an elderly woman, strangely minus the strangulating brass neck wear and teeth totally blackened by nonstop chewing of raw betel nut, betel leaf and lime making her seem all black gums, prattled on with us with her face splitting smile never wavering. I loved her, first because of her infectious bonhomie and second, because she made me desperately want to chew the betel- nut-leaf-lime combo! It made me both nostalgic - where I come from the same combo is called kwai and in our childhood nothing gave us more kick, literally and otherwise,to gobble some behind our parent's back, feel the warm tingling take over your body, especially the ears and head and then fight over whose teeth were stained the most red- and I so achingly wanted to wing myself back to those times!

It took some time to get over the initial reaction of shock, awe and innate discomfort before I could actually get myself to take a deeper look around and find out more about the community. It was then I saw the huge scroll explaining about the tribe. In brief, the long necked women belonged to a sub Karen tribe, the Paduang, a sub sect that apparently suffered much persecution and still does. Thailand, we were told, also does not recognise them as citizens. What the lengthy description makes no mention of is how the women came to wear the heavy brass rings around their necks. In fact, there were few whose neck had elongated to such extent that one immediately thought of giraffes! 

There were still others who seemed to have escaped the brass rings but not the tonnes of beads circling their necks and elaborate head wear bound to give anyone, what else but a stiff neck.

That wasn't all. When she passed us by, at first we admired her inherent elegance and the big colourful ear piece she sported with beads dangling down. Hang on! What had happened to her earlobe? Because of the enormous ear piece she had wearing since a little girl, her lobes had expanded and hung down rather grotesquely. Yes, that wasn't all, she also had brass rings tightly circling her leg just below the knee and a second lot just above her ankles. After frantic efforts at communication with our hands and crazy gestures it seemed to have dawned on her on whether the leg rings were used for young girls too because she took us to a little girl diligently working at her loom and with similar brass leg rings.  Being a girl in the Paduang community seemed a tortuous business - to us that is because they all seemed to be happily getting on with their lives.

Earning a living I suppose makes one avail whatever resources are around, peddle the uniqueness of the community and anything else possible. As afternoon passed and we decided to leave,  I took a last look around. A little girl, another one with the brass rings around her neck seemed somewhat petulant but as I asked her to look at the camera I felt almost guilty as if exploiting her situation. The little girl must have been tired or maybe she had enough of posing for the camera; she looked like what girls her age everywhere would look if they had been all dressed up and asked to lure in the tourist, a look that said please leave me alone. 

As we approached the exit, I turn around to take a last look. Somehow the Karen Village looked desolate, a tiny hamlet, staged as it may be, lost, forgotten and left to their own plight. It is not something I would my village to be.

Call it ironic or whatever but the experience at the Elephant Poopoopaper Park was another experience altogether- delightful, amusing and quite educative. Chiang Mai is one place where elephants seemed to be almost revered and everywhere in the city cute statues of the animal stand out. The Poopoopaper Park is where we realised that nothing of the Jumbo animal goes waste, not even its waste! At the entrance, standing next to a thatched structure is an all gold baby elephant statue that inevitably makes all us approach it and pat it lovingly.

Our guide is the petite Kim.The park is a sprawling undulating spread, green every which one looks with little water bodies. Kim takes us through the entire process of how the elephant waste is collected and then turned into beautifully textured and coloured papers. In between we admire the lush birds of paradise plant, endless number of trees and for the first time, at least for me, we gush over the peanut patch. If we were not told, we would have thought that it was some local greenery ( some kind of saag). What are huge balls of elephant dung morph into not just paper but stunning paper products from exquisite bookmarks to  greeting cards to little animal figurines. The cafe attached to it is an open relaxing zone with some amazing smoothies. In an instant Kim transform from the elephant poo expert to  an adept chef! Adding to the charm of the cafe was a dog constructed out of discarded gumboots complete with a water bowl in front of it. Yes that reminded me of the one at home and home and.......

Kim at the Elephant Poopoopaper Park

 

 

Peanut Patch

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wag a tail!