The Thai new year begins in mid April, with a big water festival called Songkran. It is celebrated all around the country, in big cities, the airport, villages, roadside restaurants, etc.
We arrived in Bangkok just in the thick of it. I knew there was something going on, yet still felt surprised when a guy dumped a bit of his freezing cold water bottle on me as I passed him outside the airport. “It starts.” Bubs and I figured out a way into the city. We left via minivan bus flying over 100 km/hr with the sun beginning to set over the smog-coated city. Stepping off the bus, we were confronted by lots of people drenched head to toe. Men and women, children, teenagers, dogs, everyone was wet and dirty. Most were splashed with some sort of white clay (all part of the fun!) There were clear plastic bags of water hanging off many benches that lined the main intersection. Here come Bubs and I, hot and tired, sweating and dirty, with packs huge and heavy… perfect target… somehow we skirted the water and ducked into a cab.. protection!
On the cab ride to the hostel we drove through Songkran craziness. Kids with hoses were totally dousing motorbike, taxis, tuk-tuks, and passerbys. Reggaeton pumped out shop windows, Thai people danced on tables to the tunes while running around and dumping water on each other. We got settled, put our cameras in ziplok bags, and headed out into the fun.
The streets were LINED with people. Everyone had either a water gun, water bottle, hose, or plastic bowl with wet clay that smelled like tea tree oil. They smiled as we passed, eyebrows raised, and with a short nod of appreciation from us, they dumped water on us or shot us with their water guns as we ran off or dumped the ends of our warm water bottles back on them. All this water fun was quite relieving, it was HOT. You know how I’m always cold, well I dried off in literally 30 minutes. Not cold.
As we continued on our way to Khao San Rd. (land of the whiteys) we saw a huge crowd forming in the middle of the road. There was a show going on a few blocks ahead, where the kids were so plentiful they stopped all oncoming traffic. If you have ever been to an emo show, you would understand the expressions, dances, and clutching high-pitched singing that was taking place. Girls bopped, boys two stepped a bit, but most of the crowd was under 20. Thai pop, or maybe Thai emo? Either way it was super cool to hear that same genre on the total opposite side of the universe. Bubs and I hung out for a bit with the underagers, realized how old we are now, and headed out to the “bar” scene.
Khao San Rd. is lined with backpacker stuff. Shops, hostels, cafes, food vendors, travel agents, and the same thai fisherman pants (that are sold near our hostel for 100 b and cost 450 b here.) The streets were no longer full, they were MOBBED. It was like Warped Tour, only way wetter and happier. Ladyboys passed us by, smearing white clay on our faces with smiles that couldn’t be broken. Children splashed in the muddy rivers pouring down the sides of the streets. Tourists armed with waterguns and bathing suits ran around like crazy people, playing some sort of rambo game I was not at all interested in. A big plate of Pad Thai on the street was 30 b, and DELICIOUS! Dogs were everywhere, and they were so happy too.
As you continued down into whiteyville, you see more and more travelers, more and more dreadlocks, more and more tattoos, piercings, ‘alternative’ folk sitting in cafes with big expensive cameras, documenting the action. Further down, we came to more of the ‘bar’ spot where everyone is drinking or drunk and girls danced on tables in provocative ways. Not our scene, so we bailed. Curfew time, the police set up a blockade not allowing more people into the area.
The best part about this festival wasn’t the water or the drinking or craziness. For me, it was at the end of the night. Some young boys, maybe 15 or 16 grabbed a bit of the garbage that was strewn about, some buckets and empty bottles, and started a rhythm. Bottles clashing, sticks slamming on buckets, bits of here and there, with the most mesmorizing rhythm. Then they were dancing and singing, covered in mud and water and dirt, all around the street. It was an expression of true freedom.
We kept meeting people in our days following Songkran who said, “If that would have happened in America/Canada/England/Wherever… there would be so much fighting, drunken debauchery, etc.” They were right! Yet here, in Thailand, this ’scary scary’ place across the universe… people of all different types can coexist, celebrate, party hard, without getting out of hand.
Why?! Why can’t we do this? Why the meaningless bar fights and drama? Why the oversensitivity? Why the lack of LOVE?! Everyones layers just merge together when partying in America. All the insecurities and pent up frustrations are taken outside where they belong, never dealt with, only reacted to. I’m so guilty of this too, which is the most frustrating part.
I’m trying, though. Walk the talk with me. Our generation needs some changes.
L O V E
Questions, questions. Prior to leaving I had many. One Mr. Lee verbalized on my arm:
