The amazing short tamarind tree

So the major tourist attraction for the area is the short tamarind tree. Monk, mother, sister, granny and I set off early in the morning – I’d been woken up early again as we had to get an early start. I have to admit that as tourist attractions go it didn’t quite have the oomph of the blue lagoon and caves in Vang Vieng, or 2000 islands in the south but they were all keen to get there.

We caught a songthaew for around half an hour, Then walked for another half hour. We got to a house where the whole village gathered to stare at me. No one spoke. No one. Not one person would say anything at all to me. They just stared. After a while we resumed our journey to the short tamarind tree. We walked through paddy fields – now just dry stumps, as the hot season was well underway, along the ridges between each section, the earth cracked and dry. I would guess it hadn’t rained for months. We passed buffalo. Not the black variety I had seen elsewhere – these were pink – somehow they looked naked. Elephants were ridden past us heading for the logging fields further along. A few turkeys on a wander looking for grasshoppers and frogs glanced briefly at us then continued on their way.

I was so tired. The lack of sleep was really affecting me now. I just wanted to sleep. The heat was relentless as we walked through the open fields. My head was feeling heavier and heavier. They wanted me to speed up – I wanted to take in everything and talk to people I passed. Eventually we arrived – the short tamarind tree. Except that it wasn’t short. Looked a little like an oak tree. It was lovely. Old and knarled. A fabulous climbing tree but not, in any way, short.

Odd.

Then it started raining. The dry cracks filled with water then mud as the heavy water soaked deep below the surface. We sat in the shelter of the not short tamarind tree. Then the thunder and lightening started so they said we had to go to one of the little bamboo shelters that dot the fields. We squelched through the mud, ran and slipped and reached the shelter. I wanted to sleep there – I was so tired and it looked like it would rain for a long time. The noise of the heavy rain hitting the bamboo matting of the shelter was soothing. I felt I was being sung to sleep. Then the sister started banging a nail in with her shoe. I lay there so sleepy but unable to rest. Then suddenly I was told we had to continue. It was still raining. I couldn’t understand the rush, but..... We started walking. After around 45 minutes we passed a noodle stand. A little bamboo shed with a roof that stopped about three feet off the floor. We went in but as I ducked down to get under the roof my head scraped a nail that hung down. Blood poured from my head. Everything pixelated. I sat down heavily. Touching the wound. I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t think. I just wanted to sleep. I was so tired. Tears started pouring down my face. I couldn’t stop. I sat under that bamboo roof in the rain, surrounded by the monk’s family and I bawled. I couldn’t stop.

We got back to the house and I slept.

I slept for about 15 minutes until once again little girls sat over me giggling. I gave up. It was a tiring visit.