Why I Keep Returning to Bueng Khong Long
People often ask me why I keep going back to Naka Cave.
My first answer is always the same: faith.
Every time I hike up to Naka Cave and Nakee Cave, I go there to pay my respects to the sacred spirits, offer my prayers, and reflect on the goals I have set for my life.
But as the years have gone by, I have realized that faith is no longer the only reason I drive hundreds of kilometers back to Bueng Khong Long again and again.
Because what is waiting for me there is not just the caves.
Bueng Khong Long has brought many wonderful people into my life. I could spend days telling their stories.
But today, I want to tell you about three women.
P’Noi, P’Aum, and Mae Daeng.
I met them a little over a year ago, on the day I decided to hire traditional dancers for my offering ceremony at Nakee Cave instead of performing the dance myself, as I had always done before.
At the time, I thought it was simply a professional arrangement.
I never imagined that meeting them that day would become the beginning of a friendship that would mean so much to me.
They are ordinary villagers who live simple lives. They are not wealthy, nor are they well known. One of them cannot even read.
Yet they possess something that feels increasingly rare in today’s world.
A heart filled with genuine kindness.
From the very beginning, they have always welcomed me with warmth and respect.
They have always called me “Khun Bud.”
It is how they greeted me on the first day we met, and it is how they still greet me today.
Throughout the time we have known each other, they have never called me first. If we need to talk, I am usually the one who reaches out. Whenever I call, they answer immediately or return my call as soon as they can.
I have never taken that as a sign of distance. Instead, I have always felt that it comes from the respect and consideration they have for me.
Over the past year, they have watched my journey unfold. They have seen me return to Bueng Khong Long time after time, witnessed the ceremonies I have taken part in, and shared many moments of my life.
According to their beliefs, I am someone protected by the sacred guardian spirits of their homeland. They believe I am a descendant of the sacred beings they have worshipped for generations.
I have never tried to tell them whether those beliefs are right or wrong.
Because to me, what matters far more is the sincerity behind them.
Whenever we make plans to meet, they always make time for me.
Sometimes they close their small shops.
Sometimes they leave their work behind.
Not because they have to.
But because spending time together is important to them.
I have taken them to beautiful temples in Nakhon Phanom, to Nong Khai, and even across the border into Laos.
Most of those places are only an hour or two from their homes, yet they had never had the opportunity to visit them before.
Watching the joy on their faces during those trips made me realize that the journey meant just as much to them as it did to me.
Whenever I casually mention that I would like to eat something, they always try to find it for me.
Sometimes they walk into the forest to gather bamboo shoots.
Sometimes they go looking for wild mushrooms.
Not because I ask them to.
Not because they expect anything in return.
But because they simply want to share the best they have.
What I admire the most is that they have never competed with one another.
None of them has ever tried to stand out.
None of them has ever tried to be more important than the others.
They care for one another, and they care for me with a kindness that feels effortless.
Many times, I have found myself quietly watching them and smiling.
I used to believe that I returned to Bueng Khong Long to seek blessings from the sacred spirits.
But perhaps…
The greatest blessing was never what I prayed for at the top of the mountain.
Perhaps it has always been the people I met along the way.
Because in the end, what makes a place unforgettable is not the mountains, the caves, or even the beauty of nature.
It is the people.
The people who give every journey a deeper meaning.
The people who make “going back” feel less like returning to a place…
and more like coming home.
