Star of my own Shaving Commercial

On the second day of my journey, we woke up for breakfast and met earnest questions of whether we had slept well. I chose not to answer. I just ate my toast and quietly mourned the sleep that could have been mine had I not been in a mountain-top village with noisy poultry.

We started off, and after gaining rest from hiking, I felt a great sense of accomplishment at having done what I wouldn't have thought my body was capable of the day before. I reveled in the unique situation I was experiencing, visiting a village such an uncomfortable jaunt away, high in the mountains of Thailand, where so many will never go. I can do this! I can hike a bit today. We were told that, although today's hike would be twice as long as before, it was much easier - mostly down and horizontal, with a little uphill. As we started, we would stop to look at the water reserves or the lychee trees. Some kids were picking lychees and gave us each one. This fruit is not found in America but is quite popular in Asia, especially in India. It has a rough, red exterior but it's thin and easily peeled off. The fruit is white and translucent, and quite sweet. The brown, glossy nut in the middle is poisonous, so you eat the fruit from around it and spit out the nut (why would you want to eat the nut anyway?!). It's like a grape, but not as moist.

To my great dismay, the first part of our trek was all uphill, just as steep and just as hot before. I was ready to quit almost right away and had immediate flash-backs of the painful day before. My muscles reminded me of what they had done, and what they were unwilling to do again so soon. Thankfully, for me, Bailey was struggling today alongside me more often, so I didn't feel so far behind. Then, it really did even out, and to bring our spirits up, our guide's friend "Ping Pong" made us bamboo walking sticks and fern crowns. We learned how to say "I am the princess of the forest" in Thai (wish I could remember now) and marched in high spirits through the woods. We came across a termite mound, about 4 feet tall, where a pile of leaves were held on top by a big rock. We learned from our superstitious guides that hikers believe they will be spared from danger if they add leaves to the pile, so we put two leaves each on top of the already fairly substantial pile.

Bailey and I got to talking and most of the morning went almost without notice as we focused on our footing. At one point, we hiked along a ridge the width of our feet, and we held on to a pipe running along the hill parallel to us. We headed down a very steep hill and ended our morning hike at another village for lunch. While we waited, we taught Thai phrases to two other hikers waiting for food too, so we taught them to say "kiss" (jupe) and "honey" (tirak), which they playfully shouted at us as we ran into one another along the same trail throughout the day. The women and children were sitting below a house that was built up on stilts, pounding away at twigs that they had collected and bagged from the woods. Their hands were dyed red. I asked what they were doing, and I was amazed when I heard that they were busy knocking bug dung off of twigs to sell in the market for a mere 75 cents a kilo. It's used as a sealant because it's sticky.

We changed into our suits and gave our princess ferns to two girls in the town, then headed off for a nearby waterfall. Walking out of the village, I complemented a man on his hat, and immediately he took it off and offered it to me. I insisted that he keep it, amazed at the response to my complement, though I'm not sure why I was surprised. People will offer you the shirt off their backs if they think you would want it.

The waterfall was very beautiful, and I got in. It was cold, which was so nice after the hot hike. It was dark and I couldn't see the bottom, which is one of my weird fears. A little boy from the village swam naked with us - he wasn't more than 4, and enjoyed sliding over the algae-covered boulders and splashing us. We walked a little further to the next waterfall where we ran into other hikers, and where we were asked to 'shower.' After the others left to make camp farther down hill, I got out my shampoo and our shared soap and  cleaned up in the waterfall (clarification - still in my bathing suit). The Aussie shaved his face in the water and complained that the razor wasn't dull enough, and that his wife usually used it a few times before he did to take the 'edge' off. He asked me if I would be so kind as to dull it up for him. I objected pretty strongly, as a razor is a very personal item, and told him how gross it would be to have to use it after I was done, as my legs hadn't been shaved for at least two weeks. But, he was insistent, so I shaved my legs on a rock in the waterfall, feeling quite a bit like a Skintimate model on a commercial shoot. One of our guides gawked at the process, having never witnessed a girl shaving her legs :) He said that Thai women have very little body hair, so many of them never shave at all.

We were very reluctant to leave the quiet waterfall - it was perfection, with a sandy, shallow bottom, and cool but not frigid water. We had a great dinner and sat by our fire, singing loudly the American songs we could (sort of) remember the lyrics to. That night, we slept very soundly as there were no roosters in this part of the jungle, and their squawking was replaced with the sound of water running over the rocks to the valley below.