Thailand – Our Magical Hill Tribe Visit

By Christy

On Monday, our 3rd day in Thailand, we had the opportunity to visit a Hill Tribe village--about a 90 minute drive up a mountainous road from Chiang Mai. In Thai Hill Tribe villages like this, there is often poverty to the extremes. Families can get so destitute, that they may make the painful decision to sell one (or more) of their children to "predators" who are in the business of trafficking children into slavery or prostitution. Sometimes parents are manipulated and misled--told that their child will receive an education and "job training." Other times parents know what they are selling their child into, but they do it in desperation to feed their family. I feel sick to my stomach, trying to imagine facing such a horrific decision as a parent.
We learned that Mike and Margie, our beloved hosts, have formed a relationship with this village, since there are two kids from the Girls' Home from this village. When we arrived, we piled out of the pick-up truck to discover that even though it is Monday, the children are all out of school for a Chinese New Year holiday. What an unexpected bonus!

We began walking up a dirt road toward the village. As usual, we had no idea what was coming next (we are getting used to that feeling day by day). As we walked further, and bamboo huts on stilts came into view. As we approached the huts, a man in a bright floral wrap and button down shirt, one of the village leaders, came out and greeted Mike.
In moments, a cluster of little girls in brightly decorated silk robes for the New Years celebration, appeared all around us, one taking my right hand and another my left. They surrounded Shayla and did the same, and without words,  they proceeded to walk us up the hill.






 
It was absolutely surreal. We proceeded through the village with our quiet little guides escorting us with care, passing mothers with babies on their bamboo hut porches, and goats and pigs meandering aimlessly by. When we got to the top of the hill, they guided us into a circular arena of red clay dirt, enclosed with bamboo fencing. There was a man playing a wind instrument I had never seen before, he, and other men in brightly colored waist wraps were moving around the circle, taking distinct steps in a slow repetitive rhythm.
Our new little friends in bright robes "deposited" us at the edges of the circle, then joined hands with one another in pairs and fell into the same rhythmic steps.
As we watched, mesmerized, taking in this unexpected scene, Margie explained that this was quite an honor to witness this ritual. No one in the village is allowed in this arena except for special celebrations. We just happened to arrive on this day of celebration, and even more remarkable...they had graciously allowed us to come in. Next, our little guides came back and took us by the hand, and brought us into the circle to join the rhythmic procession.



We went around the circle many times, the instrument humming in our ears, and the girls giggling as we fumbled to follow along. After some time it appeared the dance was complete. Our sweet little friends in bright robes then took us by the hand and led us out of the arena and back onto the dirt path.


We were invited to peer inside a hut and get the opportunity to see how it was arranged inside. The one room home was dimply lit, the only light streaming through the wooden slats. The flooring was made of closely tied strips of bamboo, and it gave under our bare feet. Our little guides took us to a different hut, and sat arround with me and the others cross-legged on the mat on the floor, still holding my hand. It was such a feeling of sweet connection.

It turned out that the hut we were now sitting in belonged to the Leader of the village. Through  a translator who had come with us, he asked if we would like some pig, to which we graciously agreed. As his wife chopped the fresh pig meat and cooked it over a fire in the hut, we were able to enjoy conversation (through Nye’s translation) with the village Leader.

We enjoyed a plate of rice topped with some very tasty fresh cooked pork and more conversation. We thanked them again and again for their kindness, it was yet another gift they gave us. The village Leader led us out of his hut back down to the dirt path, and walked us back to the main dirt road where we had first arrived.


Now at the side of the road were some tables, covered in colorfully beaded bracelets and coin purses and bags. Standing at the table was an older woman in colorful clothes and decades of life experience etched into the lines of her face. We exchanged smiles with her and two other women at the tables,  and admired their colorful creations.
 
Though we don't have room for anything more in our backpacks as we travel, we wanted to buy something to show our gratitude for our incredible visit. We found some items to purchase and exchanged some Thai Baht for their treasures. Before we had to go, we wanted to share our Friendship Bracelets with them. We asked the word for "friend" in their local language, and then helped tie them on.


Then offering them to the teen girls who were hovering in the wings, and the women selling their goods. We all smiled at one another, and expressed gratitude without words.

     
As we walked back to the pick-up, I was shaking my head in disbelief. Had I really experienced this magical morning in this Hill Tribe village, or was it a dream? Had I gone back in time? Will those precious little girls in bright robes who expressed such beautiful friendship without words, ever know what a lasting impression they made on me? Will their families always have enough to eat, so they will never be faced with the agonizing decision of giving up their child? As we started the drive back down the mountain road, I knew this would be one of the most cherished days I would recall in my life. Thank you, God, for that incredible gift.