Climbing Down the Mountain...

One thing Anthony and I noticed as we walked through the village was the plethora of chickens. Everywhere, chickens roamed freely. No wonder bird flu is spreading so easily in this region, half of the kids went barefoot, presumably walking around with bird shit all over their feet.

There's never been a moment in my life where I've seriously contemplated killing an animal. Humans, maybe, but never animals. I really enjoy eating them, but I've never been one for slaughter and I'm more than content that other people kill the chickens that we press into dinosaur shapes and sell frozen in the stores. But, when my sleep was disturbed in the wee hours of the morning by the constant chirping, clucking, and cackling of the hundreds of chickens that constituted a significant part of the diet of the local villagers, I seriously considered leaving our little bedroom, walking outside, and chucking as many of those idiotic birds into the darkness of the jungle (where they would hopefully be devoured by hungry predators) as I could. I think, as a species, that chickens should have gone extinct eons ago. They're dumb, slow, they can't fly, and they make enough noise to attract every hungry predator within earshot. If humans hadn't discovered how delicious they were I seriously doubt that chickens would exist today.

After dragging myself off the floor/bed, I ate some toast and we began our trek. The skies had opened for the entire night and let loose torrents of hard rain, so the entire trail was slick and trekking was rough. Most everyone slipped at least once. Finally, after a hard, sweaty walk down the mud-soaked trail, we reached a waterfall. I was one of the last ones to arrive, having stayed with Rainey, a Peruvian who was struggling to keep up and falling frequently on the muddy path. At one point during our private trek, he fell and slid down a hill. As I was telling him in the best Spanish that I could muster that he needed a shower, I proceeded to fall myself.

Even with my late arrival, I was the first one to brave the waterfall. My God, was it awesome to stand in the falls. Gallons and gallons of water cascaded down over the cliffs into my back. It kind of hurt, but at the same time, it felt magnificent. The water was cold, no doubt, but the water helped me recover some of the energy lost from the hard trek and the lack of sleep. It was sad that the water wasn't deep enough to swim in, but I still enjoyed getting pummeled by the power of water and gravity.

Almost immediately after we left the falls, I decided to fall. My right leg slipped and a rock kindly caught my knee and broke my fall. My left knee cap begrudgingly took the entire weight of the fall and immediately swelled up and turned strange colors in response. Then I had to trek for about 2KM out of the jungle. Fortunately I had befriended Rainey because he stayed with me the entire trek, helping me get through rough spots. I was incredibly happy when we reached the white water rafting camp and even happier when Rony said I didn't need to go and could ride back in the truck he was taking. Once everyone got down river, we ate lunch and headed back to Chang Mai. Amazingly, I rode in the back of a truck and didn't puke.

Once I got back to the city, I followed everyone's advice and went to a pharmacy and got some painkillers. I was incredibly happy to have something that would take the pain out my hobbling and probably help me sleep well. I took a couple of the pills as the instructions said and finished reading The Things They Carried. After an hour with no improvement, I took a third pill, as the instructions said I could and, within 15 minutes, I felt very comfortable. Anthony and I chatted a bit, but soon the pillow beckoned me. I closed my eyes, not realizing that this would be the last time I felt pleasant for nearly 24 hours.