{"id":23,"date":"2006-10-14T01:50:22","date_gmt":"2006-10-14T05:50:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/s179972961.onlinehome.us\/?p=23"},"modified":"2006-10-25T11:06:54","modified_gmt":"2006-10-25T15:06:54","slug":"saturday","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blog.nickorn.com\/?p=23","title":{"rendered":"Saturday"},"content":{"rendered":"

It has only been a few days, but I am a complete convert to the life of bicycling, and this only made things worse when Mao decided to cease cooperating.\u00a0 In the midst of a typically strenuous bout of peddling that follows the changing of a light, all at once I noticed something amiss.\u00a0 I looked down at my left foot, thinking that perhaps my sandal had broken, but instead was faced with the shocking vision of a barely dangling pedal.\u00a0\u00a0I quickly got over to the shoulder and, upon surveying the damage, noticed to my luck, that I had come to rest in front of a hardware store.\u00a0 Following a less-than-smooth exchange of grunts and gesticulations, it became clear that I would have to purchase a wrench if I wanted to use it.\u00a0 A fellow shopper, who was inexplicably purchasing both PVC joints and long square pieces of balsa wood, motioned for me to follow him as he got on his moped.\u00a0 Now normally I would have no problem keeping up with a moped, especially one slowly expecting me to follow it, however, after the second turn of the pedal resulted in it skittering across the pavement, this turned into quite a feat.\u00a0 Bikes truly are ingenious inventions: a realization that I came to quickly while discovering the impossibility that is one-peddled biking. <\/font><\/p>\n

My opportune tour guide pointed me to a motorbike repair shop and was on his way.\u00a0 After a quick survey of a number of shops, the mechanic who was helping me, returned with a collection of pedals.\u00a0 He attached the correct one in no time, while three of his coworkers poked, prodded, hammered, drilled and chiseled<\/em> a motorcycle into a mere frame as if monkeys discovering tools for the first time\u0097my heart went out to its owner, if he only knew the treatment his bike was receiving.\u00a0\u00a0 A few minutes, and a mere 80 baht (about US$2.25) later, I resolved to truly test Mao\u0092s health\u0097and my own, for that matter\u0097by going on my longest ride yet.\u00a0 I picked a main road and took it straight out of the city.\u00a0 I was amazed by how quickly the city gave way to countryside and within a few miles I felt as though I could not be farther from Chiang Mai.\u00a0 After pausing at a few particularly scenic spots<\/a> spots, I saw signs for a wat, and, with some maneuvering, was able to reverse my direction, on what had now become a three-lane highway.\u00a0 <\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/p>\n

I followed a Sawng Taew in through the gates, and instantly noticed a marked difference from the other wats I had visited so far: there were no tourists.\u00a0 While I did encounter one South Asian family taking a group picture in front a particular scenic view, they proceeded to leave just afterwards.\u00a0 Without the constraints of an ever-encroaching city, the grounds of this wat just sprawled<\/em>.\u00a0 While this wat certainly had the wat, chedi<\/a> and monks<\/a>\u00a0that all of the others did, I found myself more drawn to the timelessness<\/a>\u00a0of the place: winding paths leading behind kitchens and through bungalows, the long prayer flags<\/a>\u00a0blowing in the wind, and the breathtaking beauty<\/a>\u00a0of the ever-present jungle.\u00a0 <\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/p>\n

On returning home I ran into my optimistic friend (See Wednesday), who when I said that I had no plans for the upcoming night, insisted that I let him take me around the city.\u00a0 My new friend, whose name it turns out is Urt, is a tour guide, and thus, upon hearing about all of the tourist attractions that I had no been to, came to understand that I was hoping to see the city in a slightly different way from the \u0093old, slow moving farang<\/em>\u0094 that he was used to bringing around.\u00a0 That being understood, he stopped insisting I see the snake show, and told me he knew just the place I had to go, and was almost insulted that I hadn\u0092t been there yet.\u00a0 <\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font>He took me up the hill behind the university, where there was a turn-off with a shrine to Kru Bar Srivichai, a Buddhist monk who died 100 years ago.\u00a0 He explained that when one is new to Chiang Mai, one must come pay respect to this saint, and ask him for a productive time here; as a result, all of the students come here at the start of every semester or\u00a0 the night before exams.\u00a0 He said that I should pay my respects, and ask for my goals here to be met, and, figuring there was no harm doing so, I went along with it.\u00a0 There was a number of women with stands set up, who, upon seeing us arrive, all started yelling and waving their hands trying to have us purchase our offerings from their particular stand\u0097Buddhism at its purest I suppose.\u00a0 <\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font>When presented with ten baht (about a quarter), I was presented with the following items:\u00a0\u00a0<\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/font><\/p>\n