Lost in Xishuangbanna.
Marc and I embarked on a 4 day trek through Xishuangbanna. The original intent was to go from Mengshuo (not in Lonely Planet or on the map!!) to Bulangshan, and then on to Menghai, where we'd take a bus back to JingHong where we'd based ourselves. Prior to leaving, we considered bringing iodine pills (which we did bring), a guide (which we decided not to bring because Marc had trekked alone before), and a compass (which we didn't bring because I was being paranoid).
The portion of the trek in which we didn't get lost was wonderful and beautiful. Excepting the aggressive dogs that were never tied up and chased us down the road whenever we approached. The portion of the trek in which we did get lost was equally wonderful and beautiful, but it was hard to appreciate it when I was worried about whether I'd make it out of there alive. Somewhere along the way, between the many forks that the local girl at Mei Mei's Cafe had assured us didn't exist, the path had become overgrown and had ended. We'd crashed through a few patches of brush, which hadn't gotten us any less lost, and only resulted in burrs in my hair, scratches all over Marc's arm, and a lot of getting stuck in bushes. As it was getting dark, we dropped into this terrible steep ravine, which was scary going down, but even worse coming up. It was the first time I've felt like I was in a truly dangerous situation that could be touch and go, and all I could think of was how all the achievements I'd accomplished in my life couldn't help me right now. I knew that if either of us slipped and fell back into the ravine - it'd be bad. Marc asks me now if I feel proud of myself for having gotten through that trek, and I can't say that I do. Largely because I don't feel like I got through due to my competence or my awesome physical abilities, but just out of sheer luck. I don't know how I got out of that ravine, but I do know that there were harrowing moments when my legs were dangling, my feet were scrabbling for a foothold of any sort, it had started raining so the soil was muddy (and it was getting dark), and all I could think about was how hard I've worked to get into med school and that I can't die in a ravine where no one is going to find my body.
We spent the night in an abandoned hut that we stumbled upon soon after we came out of the ravine. Despite all the Blair Witch cabin thoughts that run through my head, that hut literally saved our lives. That night, it stormed, rained, and the temperatures dropped so much that I wished I had brought my down vest. We tried unsuccessfully to start a fire to dry our clothes, and tried to be thankful. Without a doubt - if we hadn't found that hut as the sun was setting, we would've either died of exposure out there, or at the very least lost a few toes and not had enough energy the next day to make it out of the valley. As it is - it was dark, with a leaky roof, lots of bugs, and a little spooky. It was a long night.
We got out of the valley the next day by Marc barrelling through pricker plants and whatever else was in our way, me paying a village girl to take us to the main road, and then hitching on motorcycles the rest of the way to Bulangshan - only the first leg of our trek in total. Marc probably could've made it on his own, but I was so relieved for the motorcycle ride. We had run out of water halfway through the second day and were using our iodine pills. We'd also only had 2 pieces of bread to eat since our food was running out, and my body was not happy with me. Needless to say, we aborted the second leg of our trip, and took a bus from Bulangshan directly back to Jinghong.
It's funny the thoughts that go through your head when you think you might not make it out of somewhere. The first night in a hotel that we spent in Bulangshan when we made it out of the mountains, I woke up in the morning and cried. I thought about how important my family is to me, and my friends, and med school, etc. I thought about how I'm such a paranoid freak about things like hiking, and how it's okay to be paranoid because a compass really would've been helpful when we were lost. We just have too much to lose by being stupid and thinking we could do it all on our own. Now that we're out, Marc's right in noting that we have a good travel story, but I'm not sure if I want to endure that kind of fright again.
If things had gone poorly, like if we'd been killed by angry villagers in the night, or died because we'd touched some poisonous plant (I was indiscriminately grabbing plants to get me out of the ravine) and they'd found our bodies in the hut months later - we would've just been two stupid American kids who thought they could do the trek without a guide. Or it would've been like the movie Open Water where they find our bodies and always wonder what happened. They'd see that we'd started a fire and tried to hunker down for the night. As much as I'd like to go down with some fame, that's fame I can really do without.
So I guess I've learned a few things.
a) my body can't physically perform when only given a few pieces of bread and water. This means that in a caveman situation, I would've been weeded out by natural selection.
b) it's okay to be paranoid, and I consider this a license to be paranoid for the rest of my life.
c) there are a lot of things that are important to me, and having a good travel story isn't one of them.
So, I've changed my plans and have decided to go down the Mekong River in this cargo boat with Marc and Shannon (an American from Colorado that we met in JingHong) to Thailand. This wasn't in my original itinerary, but it sounds more interesting than what I had originally planned. The boat ride is only a day long. We're leaving tomorrow morning, drifting past Laos and Burma, and arriving in Thailand the next morning.
Xishuangbanna - Getting lost
Originally uploaded by susiederkins.
posted by ink at
3:22 AM
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