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Chiang Mai Calling: A Photo Essay

Chiang Mai Calling: A Photo Essay

By Marc Nair, 11 Jan 2024


Chiang Mai is a window within a window, a slow-framed spill of morning light; tableaus of faith that dance in tandem with songthaew and songbird. 

A city that expands inwards and outwards, long since bursting the bounded beliefs of its old city walls. 

A city that heaves with potential around stupas of its ancients. Walls are blistered with the posters of new faces, bisected by umbrellas that unfurl against the heat of day. At night, LED lights reveal strange shapes, natural and man-made. The dragons seem to come to life, roaming the streets and night markets.

A city that keeps itself with little secrets, washed through a fogged window and the dreams of motorcycles with their revolutions. 

The hills are a stone’s throw from Chiang Mai, and yet, the buzz of a city is never really distant. People say that Chiang Mai is a far more chilled-out city versus Bangkok. It must be the preponderance of weed shops. Or perhaps it’s the mountain air that carries a tint of escape; of cloud-tipped forests and quiet paths to waterfalls.

Three hours northeast of Chiang Mai, Pai is a sleepy dream. Soft hours, slow roads, gentle sunsets. 

Perhaps this trip is best summed up in these two images of tents: on the right, a single tent is perched invitingly with a view of the mountains over Pai. The other is a far more complex scene. 

A stupa, just north of the Old City in Chiang Mai, proves to be a picturesque, if unwitting backdrop for a man, likely homeless, having a bath by a communal well, clothes and tent strewn like an open-plan studio. A trolley, holding his possessions, waits patiently. There’s something poignant and pulverising about this juxtaposition between ancient dreams of ascension to the spiritual and the reality of urban rootlessness.