From my blogging this week you would not guess I was in Thailand.

One reason: my visit has been a peculiar one. I spent much of my time in the north, in a little town called Pai. Close friends run a Burmese refugee project there, and I visited for a few days while Jeannie did refugee work elsewhere on the border.

I pictured a quiet mountain village with at most a handful of backpackers. What I did not expect: a fantasy land where Western hippies and Thai couples on romantic holidays co-mingle in overwhelming numbers.

It was not always so. My friends fondly recall quieter days not so long ago. But a Thai romantic comedy set in Pai (think You’ve Got Mail) recently turned the town into a destination for cheeseball getaways.

When I was able to get away from the hubbub, which was most of the time, I loved Pai. Here is a picture of my beloved makeshift office:

The rest of the time, however, I can think of no better picture to sum up the circus than this:

Dreadlocks at the top of the list: always a bad sign.

By the way, that script next to the English? Not Thai but Hebrew. For the hordes of 22-year old Israelis on the romp after their military service. “Hordes of youth the year following military service,” in case you were wondering, is not typically a nation’s finest hour.

A story, probably apocryphal, circulates Pai. Despite being one of the most ethnically mixed towns in the country, it is one of the most peaceful. Supposedly the government did a study to figure out why. One of the conclusions? A shared antipathy towards filthy Western backpackers.

To read all about Pai, including related rants, see Chris Pirazzi’s site here.

I have much nicer things to say about Mae Sot, where I spent the last few days, but I must catch a plane to Ethiopia. Direct flights from Bangkok! Love it.