My base camp is the home of a Thai friend/interpreter who has asked me to come to this hill tribe as the majority have not seen farang before and nobody has stayed there since some missionaries came to buy wood 30 years ago. She's childhood friends with a kind-faced, young man named Surt who teaches about nature and the environment at a school which serves several villages and has just under a hundred students. Her house is also the location of her parent's restaurant with her grandparents in a wooden stilt house behind it. Grandfather is 94 and walking advertisement that smokers in fact do NOT die younger! My other company are the three dogs Tan, Dang and Nuna as well as Joy the very vocal cat not to mention the hundred or so catfish and koi. I do not know what is coming and I'm a little nervous.

A 45-minute drive over terrain that I find hard to believe a 125cc can make but it seems that ambition overcomes adversity with ease here. We ride in the back of a pick-up with children from Borseelaim School (check www.bsl.ac.th) and surrounding villages including an incredibly adorable girl of 6 called Ladda who has been down to the town to see the doctor. The jolting ride climbs through mountainous jungle and we are surrounded on all sides by breathtaking vistas as somehow Ladda manages to fall asleep in her mother's arms. We pass through tribes of Yao, Akha and Karen as my interpreter tells me Borseelaim is only half the height of Inthanon but they don't understand my amusement at the term 'hill' tribe when it's peak is well over 1000m above sea level. As we ascend I grow accustomed to the unwaivering stares and constant prompts for 'Sa wa dee kaps' for all those older than me as a matter of respect interpsersed with the smiles and waves for the children that are rarely returned due to shyness and wonderment.

Entering Borseelaim and the school I am embraced by a tide of faces turning and quickly turning away but stealing glances when they think my eyes have passed them by. I'm led to the wooden house of Pee Surt and the heavily pregnant Pee Tu which also doubles as the school library. The school English teacher is brought to the house and I meet the lovely, softly-spoken Pee Toy (Pee is the term given to a friend). I'm then shown to my dwelling, one of three A-frame huts with a huge balcony. My view is an unending, uninterrupted one of forest-covered mountains that in the morning are shrouded in a mist that does not lift until well after sunrise. Creepers and vines swing in the cool mountain breeze and the constant melody of birdsong comes from the forest canopy. I know already that leaving is going to be more diffcult than I'd anticipated. It's astoundingly beautiful and serene as I struggle to convey my overwhelming appreciation for the invite from my hosts. It becomes apparent as well that I have all I need here - mains socket, light, a toilet and a shower 10 metres from my door. My hut is hastily furnished with thin gym mats, sheets and blankets as it gets cold here at night which is a relief in itself. Temperatures I'm told never drop below 12 centigrade and seldom rise above 30 in the day is music to my ears, not having to put up with the drone and buzz of air con or fans.

The people are just incredibly giving and expect absolutely nothing in return. I eat dinner three times tonight as to decline is considered impolite and I am ushered from house meeting all the teachers.

Morning comes as early as did night before and I am formally introduced to the school. Proudly presented by Pee Jeb, who has good English for a Thai, after the raising of the flag and national anthem played by some of the children on instruments. My 'Good morning' is vociferously returned by the majority of the students as well as a 'How are you?'. Pee Toy leads me to my first lesson as the children clamour on the concrete building balcony eagerly awating my presence. It is informative for me as I realise it will be easier for me to teach older students with higher ability and probably not at this school. Teachers in government schools in very rural areas are extremely low-paid and are not usually there by choice. As a result of the low pay you do not get always get the best or most dedicated teachers. Even though Pee Toy may be doing her utmost to get the children through the syllabus laid down the overwhelming majority are left behind due to a poor tertiary education, her own lack of fluency or their lack of motivation. Being hill tribe children the majority will end up working the family job, usually farming of some kind, instead of progressing with their studies which is a very expensive think to do with such low incomes. The teachers for example are only paid around a hundred and thirty pounds a month which is a stupendous amount more than the tribes people earn.

I am whisked away again to help Pee Surt, Joe, Boy, Chao, Jed, Jeb 1 and Jeb 2 in setting up activities for the following day's Scout camp down in the valley. The high point of the afternoon is definitley watching Surt catch a multitude of small fish with his bare hands including eels and snakeheads. Baden Powell would've been proud! A fire is started, fish are skewered and fresh herbs, bananas and tangerines are picked from the surrounding fields. We sit in a grassy clearing by the small river, Thai whiskey is quickly produced as our table mats of banana leaves are laid out. Pee Joe is the group drinker and joker, he's an orphan and spends most of his time at Borseelaim even on weekends when he could be at home. There's an incredible sadness to him that is invisible for the whiskey-fuelled laughter that makes his eyes disappear completely. Pee Chao has an infectious giggle and smile that would brighten the gloomiest day. It may sound like I'm romanticising but I don't know how much closer to perfection it can be as we start eating.

After lunch we take a walk into a small village of Karen people 300m from the site. Here I meet Angor, a 6-year-old boy from a very poor family even by hill tribe standards. He has 11 brothers and sisters, angor being the eighth. Gregarious and not overcome by the shyness that affects his peers he wants to give me a tour of his village so I raise him up and sit him on my shoulders as he points me from house to house happily jabbering away in his Northern Thai language to my smiling nods and 'Kaps'. He knows I don't understand but is satisfied in his role as tour guide and leads me into the valley fields identifying plants as we go including mint. I pick a few leaves and chew them as we sit amid a field of parsley while we watch a game of football played by the older boys of the village. Over the next few days he appears and disappears at will as he suddenly appears at my side slipping his hand into mine much to the amusement of everyone else.

In the morning I'm told over breakfast that Bour, my interpeter, has had a motorbike accident heading back down the mountain to her home. The result is a chipped kneecap or it's very badly bruised but I am told that there is nothing I can do and I'm needed here. Allowing me to go down therefore would mean the loss of two teachers and a truck for the day.

The day of the Scout camp is regimented as the boys and girls move from task to task treated as equals in each challenge. Regimented that is until tasks are completed, tents erected from freshly chopped bamboo, camp kitchens formed and ceremonies carried out. What follows is the indulgence of the adults in what turns out to be one of a number of reminders that government made laws and guidance do not reach their rigid arm into remote country like this. A PA is set up along with a PC while a cable is run from the village for power, teachers from other schools arrive bringing the gifts of their voices, food and whiskey ready for the abhorrent karaoke. A bit of Carabao with drum-heavy rhythms is played first of all which is more tolerable than the s***e that the speakers will soon be emitting bouncing around the valley floor and jungle-covered hills. I manage to hide my feelings about what turns into one huge knees up for the teachers hitting the bottle from about six. In a couple of hours they will be falling of chairs clobbered by the delicious but highly potent local hooch and blasting away at the karaoke til gone 2a.m. The kids are in full attendance of all this, not allowed to drink but horribly exposed and kept awake from an incredibly embarassing display by the majority of their teachers.

The following day and Surt, who thankfully did not partake wholly in the prevoius night's spectacle offers to take me to see another even poorer tribe further up the mountain. We hurtle up roads so steep that my arms strain just to ride pillion. The bikes the people ride are no more than what we would consider 125 engined mopeds and would have Ewan McGregor in one of his full-on, Boorman-saddening pissy moans. The village has no more than 10 houses and Surt immediately starts chatting with the villagers finding a girl of about 10 years old who fell while running a few days ago. It was a deep graze at the time but something is in the wound which is badly infected. The knee is swollen to twice the size it should be with white spots appearing on the sealed over surface. She can't walk but it's only because Surt has seen her and insisted that he will come back with his truck and take her down to the nearest hospital that her mother relents. Without Surt's insistence she probably would have been left until the leg is beyond rescue. Her father left them years ago and her mother is a bit crazy after abusing opium for an undefined period. There is little deterrent for opium growth, sale and use with the nearest policeman being 80km. Apparently it's the norm though and all I can think is 'Mai pen lai' - nevermind.

The following morning is my last full day of teaching and I'm informed over breakfast that all but two of the teachers are going to other schools to invigilate mid-term exams. Half our students are in exams too with teachers from Mae Hang school but what this means for me is that I will be taking the other half for the day. Splitting the fifty children into five groups I realise that I'm the one that's really being tested today as the older boys already think they can slope off. Not a chance. They're quickly didvided and made leaders of each group and told that they will be helping the younger ones. I take each group out around the village teaching the simple sentence 'This is a...' and introduce a noun such as 'puppy'. It keeps all the different ages in the group interested as even though it's a very simple sentence I'm introducing new vocabulary that virually all do not seem to know. They are asked to write the sentence in English, Thai and to draw a picture when they get back to the classroom to help them remember. Not only does it keep them amused but the adults around the homes too as some parrot what I'm saying e.g. "This is a drum". It's another slow process but I give the kids a more fun game while they are waiting of me to return to the classroom with each group. Draw a picture of Ku(teacher) Steve and make it as silly or insulting as you like, wide eyes, it's all ok I will find it funny but I'm perplexed at some of the pictures from the older girls. It becomes clear to me that they haven't in fact drawn double-ended spears going through my body but this is the equivalent of us drawing a heart with Cupid's arrow through it. This is thankfully demonstrated by Nongluk, a cheeky and chatty older girl, having written 'I love Steve' in her book underneath the picture. I say "I love you too Nongluk but it is Ku Steve" as I turn the blushing moment back on her and those that understand laugh. Nongluk has been the school smartypants for the majority of my visit with a boldness that has daunted some of the others when it comes to talking with me.

Sitting at my hut in the mid afternoon the children are finally less shy to come up to the large balcony and join me to practice. I draw a dozen or so eager to learn more while other kids play on the dirt slopes down below. Kampanad, a small 8-year-old, sitswith what appears to be a strip of bright blue Duck tape over his knee. When I point at it he prompty pulls it off to show me an angry looking graze. The other kids and Kampanad look on in wonderment as I fetch my antispetic wipes, clean it and seal it with a spray plaster. Five minutes later and he's down on the dirt slopes skidding on sheets of plastic on his knees. Welcome to working with kids!

My leaving party with the teachers as I mentally prepare myself for another night of karaoke and Thai whiskey which at this stage I've developed a penchant for. Before I can make it up to the roof terrace I'm stopped by the builders who have been working on new classrooms and living in the two huts next to me as they want me to eat with them first. The food is typically Noth Thai and includes a bowl of raw minced pork in blood and herbs which I manage to avoid until they offer to cook it up for me. I'm given the North name of Gamon by them which I'm told means joker. I realise that there are more men here than there were yesterday and I ask where they will be sleeping. I'm told between the huts under the stars. As cold as I've been some nights I donate a couple of my blankets which are gratefully received.

As I make the short walk across the playground from Surt's house carrying the beer and whiskey contribution I've decided to make I come across two of the boys from the dormitory with a tin plate nailed to a stick with a slab of fresh honeycomb sitting on it, bees still buzzing around it in defiance. Wonders never cease here.

I'd add more to this for you all but I'm clearly getting behind with the blog and I'm not the fastest of typists so keep an eye out for small stories that I'll put under the pictures on Facebook. I'm strapped for time and writing this much is an indulgence.