Thailand Day 2: Floating Market & Elephants

When Bart Simpson passionately cried out, "Where's my elephant?! Where's my elephant?!" outside of KBBL Radio, I related to his frustration. I often stay up late at night, wondering the exact same thing. Where's my elephant?

Turns out it was in Thailand this whole time.

I had initially intended on visiting a conservation area aimed at protecting elephants. Visitors to the site in Chiang Mai would learn how to bathe and feed them, and learn what it takes to care for the gentle giants. Unfortunately, Chiang Mai is a good 14 hour or so train ride north of Bangkok, which is where Mike and I were holed up for the week.

So instead, I found the next best thing: an elephant farm a couple hours out of Bangkok. I had booked the tour well in advance because it was the one thing I was determined to do while in Thailand. I could go home happy that very day, as long as I got to meet and hug an elephant.

I knew Mike wasn't keen to go, so we went our separate ways for the day and did our own thing. I was scheduled to be picked up from the hostel at 7:00 am, but once again, the driver had an impossible time finding the damn place. I finally called the tour operator at 7:45, and they were surprised to find that I hadn't even been picked up yet.

While I waited, I overheard a pair of frustrated girls speaking with their own tour operator on the phone. From what I gathered, the operator was changing plans on them last minute and was now offering less activities for the same price, and apparently it was too late for them to try and book another trip.

Finally, at quarter past eight, my driver finally walked into the lobby looking flustered and really nervous, trying to force a smile. I told him I completely understood his difficulty with finding the place, and he did not hide his relief at all. In fact, I think I immediately became his best friend, because he wouldn't stop smiling. In hindsight, considering how many hours of driving we had ahead of us, I can understand his relief that I didn't curse him out.

As I went to open my door on his car, though, it occurred to me to invite the two girls from the lobby to tag along, since it sounded like their trip was going to be a bust. I ran back to the lobby, and the receptionist told me they had just left, so I ran in their direction, hoping to catch up to them.

Sure enough, I found them not too far from the hostel, and extended my invitation. As long as they got a refund for their trip, they could use the money to pay my tour operator, and not lose a day of exploring. Sadly, they turned down my offer, saying that they were just going to do their tour anyway, because it was better than nothing, and one of the girls was set to leave the next day.

If only they'd listened to me; the following day, I found out from the girl who was sticking around for a bit longer that they never ended up making it to their floating market tour on time and they just got their money back. You try to do something nice for people...

The moral of the story: If you're going to book with a tour operator, make sure to absolutely confirm the full details of your trip.

Anywho, I went back to my new friend, and we were on our way to see some friggin' elephants! Along the way, I snapped the following shots that made me feel like I was in Nicaragua for a brief moment:

If I hadn't taken the photo myself, I'd swear this was Nica.

My driver was pretty freakin' hilarious. Total scum, but still hilarious. He told me about his "big wife" of 20+ years--whom he loves dearly and whom he has a ten-year old daughter with--his little wife (read: mistress), whom he also loves dearly, and of course his girlfriend, whom he sort of loves. The women are 44, 25, and 22 respectively. As a professional driver who drives around all of Thailand picking up tourists, he's rarely home, meaning he's set up several lives for himself across the country.

And for the record, I don't know why he refers to his actual wife as his "big wife," because he showed me a picture of her, and that lady does not look big, nor does she look 44! I won't go on about his personal life, but he repeatedly joked about how lucky I was to be single.

Stay classy, Thailand.

At the very least, he was a pleasant change from the majority of Koreans I come across, who are extremely self-conscious of their English skills. His English was very broken, but he still spoke with a smile and loved to tell stories.

For example, he was also an amateur Muay Thai boxer back in the day. He went to Japan for several tournament in his 20's, though he came back with a profoundly sad track record. Let's just say retiring early was the best career and health move he ever made.

He went over the itinerary with me and I totally forgot that the package included a trip to Damnoen Saduak floating market as well, which just so happened to be the very market I'd be visiting with Mike the next day! I figured it would at least let me experience the market beforehand to give Mike some tips when we went together.

The drive to market took longer than it should have because we were leaving Bangkok on the day that the Thai New Year holiday started. In October, cabinet had approved the decision to extend the holiday for a full five days, from December 28 through to January 1st. So for those back home, imagine the drive to the cottage on May 24 weekend. That's what we were trying to navigate, with great futility, in order to get to the market.

And so, I slept.

When I awoke, we were entering the grounds for the market. I was concerned that perhaps, in his broken English, my driver had tried to convey to me that our plans had been unexpectedly changed due to the late start to our day, and that we wouldn't have time to visit the elephants after all. After four months in Korea, you learn to expect the unexpected. He assured me, though, that the elephants were next.

As we pulled into the parking lot, a man came by and introduced himself. My driver told me to go with him, so I assumed he was going to be my guide. Instead, he asked for the remaining balance of what I owed for the package, put me on a small boat, and walked right off with my money! I was freaking out and turned around to ask the man steering the boat if we were going to wait for him. He smiled and waved his hand in a gesture that either said, "Don't worry, silly foreigner, you're fine" or "You'll never see the money or that man ever again, stupid foreigner."

All I could do was sit back and enjoy the ride. And what a ride it was!

The market itself is more than just a canal with vendors on either side--you can also shop just by walking around on land--but the canal ride is all part of the experience, and that's what I was after. The person steering your boat will look to you to see if you spot something that interests you, and then they'll hook themselves to the side using a long stick they keep handy. The vendors themselves can also hook their claws into you with a similar stick if you motion that you're interested and want to stop to take a peek.

Essentially, your driver (captain?) takes you up one direction on the canal, turns around, leads you down to one end of the market, turns around, heads to the other end, turns around once more, and drops you back off at your starting point. I can definitely see why many people consider Damnoen Saduak a tourist trap--everything is insanely over--priced, and they sell the exact same stuff you'll find everywhere else in Thailand, from the mall to the airport--but I went to Thailand fully prepared to play tourist; I wanted to buy knick knacks!

As far as the prices go, though, you quickly learn from your first purchase or two that you can very easily haggle to half of what they initially ask for and you'll be fine. Hell, they expect you to haggle! Nine times out of ten, the vendor would tell me the price and immediately hand me their calculator to punch in what I was willing to pay. Or they'd tell me the price and immediately ask "How much you want?" before I even opened my mouth.

Amphawa, which is supposed to be the more traditional Thai floating market that caters to locals, seems to sell mainly food and produce--or at least that's what I gathered from the photos I gleamed online; I could be totally off-base on that one.

I've always enjoyed the markets in Nicaragua, but this market was, hands down, the best market experience I've ever had, particularly because of the boat ride. It was madness out on those waters! At one point, there were so many boats going in opposing directions that it seemed like the only way somebody was going to get through was if their boat went over somebody else's! I was stuck long enough that I got into a small conversation with a family in the boat beside me.

And some drivers were old ladies, too! They were paddling hard, while the young whippersnappers had nice little propeller to get them where they were going. The lady in the hat pictured below could probably snap me in two with her biceps.

Once I got back on land, I walked back towards the parking lot, praying I'd find my driver, and sure enough, there he was, enjoying a smoke. We promptly got in the car, and went on our way to what I hoped was an elephant party.

Instead, we picked up some dude outside of a World War II cemetery. Turns out he was my elephant tour guide. He didn't really do anything other than take pictures using my phone, but he was great company; we talked girls, sports, and music.

I'll skip past the boring train tracks that we stopped at for some reason, because, really, they were just train tracks, man. My guide could tell that I was getting tired and hungry as hell, and I'm sure he was just as unimpressed by the site as I was, so we were basically in and out of there. I really appreciated him for that.

Forget the train tracks, just put some food in me! I was getting hangry!

Next stop: FOOOOD!

I couldn't help but let out a laugh during my meal here, sitting in beautiful tropical weather with a nice cold Chang beer, with cheap Christmas decorations sprinkled about and Bing Crosby coming out of the speakers. 

Those who know me know I'm not one to take pictures of my food--I savour it much more with my mouth than with my eyes--but I was giddy with excitement.

Finally, it was time to see some freakin' elephants!

Now here is where I must confess something that I was unwilling to admit to myself earlier on. As I said at the top of this post, elephants were the only thing I had to see while in Thailand. The Elephant Natural Park sanctuary in Chiang Mai is the real deal: They show you how to care for elephants, bathe them, and watch them interact with one another. 

The one thing you can't do at the sanctuary, though, is ride an elephant. In order to train an elephant to let people ride on it, it must first be tamed at a very young age through a barbaric and torturous process that involves separating it from its mother, confining it to a small space, and beating it into submission. 

When I found out that I'd be stuck in Bangkok, I tried looking for another sanctuary, but had no such luck. And so, I settled on the farm in Kanchanaburi. I told myself that this place was different; they treated their elephants decently on this farm. I ignored Mike's persistent cries that such places are barbaric and cruel. I bottled up all of these thoughts and cast them aside. I wanted to see an elephant up close so desperately. 

Since coming back to Ulsan, I've told friends here that the elephants were a definite highlight for me on the trip. But the truth is, while it was memorable, it was for all the wrong reasons. As soon as we started our drive up towards the farm and I saw the first elephant of the day, I became overwhelmed with excitement. But as we rode down towards the water, I couldn't help but sense something was wrong. The guy riding on the elephant with me was shouting commands, as if we were at a circus, and though I never saw him use the stick he held in his hand, I knew he would have no qualms about doing so if he had to. I felt sick to my stomach.

I will always cherish the time I spent with Fanta in the water--especially when she whipped me down into the water like a rag doll--but I will also regret it. I hate myself for doing it, because unlike those who visit such places ignorant of what they're contributing towards, I just turned a blind eye towards it, driven by a childish desire to pet an elephant.

I've promised myself that I'll make it up to Fanta somehow down the road. Perhaps I'll make an overly generous donation to an elephant charity or sanctuary. Perhaps I'll try to deter friends and family from visiting such places by telling them that the long-enduring guilt far outweighs the brief moment of joy. Perhaps I'll name my future fat cat after her.

One thing's for sure, though: I'll never forget her. 

I'm a stoopid dick.

Love you, buddy.