chiang mai

there were violent protests going on in the streets of bangkok, when we arrived. undoubtedly, we both would have been brutally trampled under the feet of the ten thousand-plus-person throng, if it weren't for the casual, smiling guidance of a few interested locals, who pointed us in the right direction. we ended up meeting jack, a thai government employee who grew up in texas, loves americans, and apparently speaks six different languages, all of which kept trying to sneak into his conversation with us. he helped us come up with a reasonable itinerary for our first week in thailand. "first thing: get out of bangkok." his service was free, because he works for the national tourism authority. we figured, since he was an authority on tourism, we should probably take his advice. we ended up chattering our way up to chiang mai on a hissing, jarring relic of railroad history, where we could see the tracks racing by through the hole in the bottom of the toilet (not many people walk along the tracks, we figured), and where the roomy baggage compartment, surprisingly, turned out to be my bedroom for the night. we are now bunking in a cozy, if warm, bedroom in the heart (perhaps the throat) of the old city of chiang mai. our days consist of walking, turning down tuk-tuk drivers, memorizing as many small thai phrases as we can, resisting high-pressure textile salesmen from kashmir (they're very lovable), slurping down local cuisinary mysteries, and trying to hear the voice of God in this place. it is a beginning. we are definitely foreigners.