The following post was written a good three or four days ago, but for some technical reason I wasn't able to post it. But here it is.

I'm really quite busy, these days. Moving in to wonderful appartments, roaming the town, eating international food, buying hip but slightly androgenous clothing, cutting my hair, late-night carousing, et cetera et cetera. The downside of this overwhelming fun is that I'm quickly falling away from all those things I experienced for the past three weeks. So I'll do my best to quickly fill you all in.
First, we went to the Upland Holistic Development Project in Fang, where we stayed for 10 days or so. It was a small institute in the country that focused on developing sustainable agriculture methods for local upland farmers. While there we spent our days doing exercises, such as counting plants, studying soil, and in general exploring the grounds. At night we relaxed in the bunk houses and coped with a creeping sense of immobility and boredom. It was at UHDP that I witnessed the slaughtering of a massive pig, as an illustration of the role pigs play in local culture. The slaughter was quite incredible. As I listened to the death wails for minutes on end until it fell silent and still, and then watched as it get skinned, decapitated and split open, I saw the distinction between animal and meat completely collapse. It's something that we just don't register as Americans so disassociated with the origins of meat (and food in general), and it's something I don't think I could have ever understood without actually experiencing that transformation. I will return to being a vegetarian upon my arrival in the States. On a lighter note, there were many adorable village children running around (children of the families who live and work at UHDP), and they loved to be tossed, spun around, and all sorts of fun that can happen when one person is four times larger than another. Also, while in Fang, we visited three hill tribe villages, which were all great experiences in their own ways. The most story-worthy one was Tisae's village. Uncle Tisae is a one thousand year old man who smokes a pipe, sings and dances, has a spirit tree that is the most beautiful tree I have ever seen, and planted an agroforest because the idea occured to him in a dream. When we visited, he took us on a tour of this agroforest, which occupies the mountains the villge is on. Whereas the ancient man was able to sprint through in knee-high rubber boots, the rest of us, full backpacks included, barely managed to survive. The climb was easy enough. The tough part came on the descent, which took us down a 45 or more degree path, consisting entirely of friction-less mud and spike covered plants. On one of my many falls I happened to grab one of these plants, and ended up with, literally, my whole left hand filled with thorns. I was able to pick nearly all of them out, at least if they were still on the outside. Many managed to go all the way in, and now, as I sit typing this, you can still see them in my palm. It was fun as hell.

Whew.

So then we went to Mae Ta, which is a small town south of Chiang Mai. About forty or fifty years ago, the formerly traditional, subsistence based community became invaded by industrial agriculture. The farmers bought into the false promises and planted chemically intensive monocrops for export. So basically, whereas they used to grow food that could feed them and their families in ways that did not damage the earth and were economically viable, they were then farming only one or two crops (which could not feed a family) and which destroyed the earth with the chemical pesticides and fertilizers and put them in insurmountable debt. And then, about 15 years ago, members of the community started to band together, with a little bit of assistance from an NGO, formed a co-op, and began to make the switch to sustainable, organic farming methods. The family I stayed with owned less than two acres of land, but they grew a many many many types of plants. Because they didn't put in chemically based fertilizers, pesticides, and regularly rotated their crops, the land was healthy and fertile, which was completely different, they said, than it was with monocropping. They ate only food they grew, with the only exception being pork. Whatever they didn't eat, they sold at a villager-run organic market in Chiang Mai every saturday, which provided them with a healthy income. It was just so amazing to see a group of people so empowered, and at the same time doing something so ecologically sustainable. It was living testament to the problems of the conventional system, and the potential and value in sustainable, local agriculture. While in Mae Ta, I also got to harvest rice. This too was amazing, standing with an aching back in the middle of gleaming golden fields, surrounded by brilliant green mountains on all sides, working along side Thai people who I couldn't understand and who like to take breaks every hour to eat fruit and make toys out of the rice stalks. Just too much. I also shared my homestay with a Thai student from Chiang Mai, who was perhaps the most annoying person I've ever met. His name was Jib, and he deserves a post all his own, so I'll save it.

There's plenty more that I did and can't remember or that I did and don't want to write about. But this should give you all an idea of what I did for the past few weeks. It was very very very fun, rewarding and inspiring.

I will be in Chiang Mai through next week, and will leave the following Monday for Mae Hong Song. Congratulations if you've read this far. Go Tigers.