Songkran Adventure: Thailand's New Year Water Festival - Part 2 of 2
by Doug Anderson Friday
Since I was getting short of money, I decided to make a visit to an ATM the evening's project. I had noticed on a map earlier that Silom, one of the main streets of Bangkok, was apparently within walking distance of my new hotel, so decided to head that-a-way. I knew there would be lots of shops and restaurants and many ATMs there, and so I could stop for a Pepsi somewhere before heading back.
It's still Songkran, the Thai New Year Water Festival. I read in the Bangkok Post that the festival lasts different lengths of time in different parts of Thailand, varying from three days to five. Tonight was the last night of the Songkran celebrations in Bangkok.
Now at this point, someone should have taken me roughly by the shoulders and pushed me up against the wall, and slapped my face a few times to get my attention. "This. Is. The. Last. Night. Of. A. Five. Day. Water. Festival. Get it?"
Um, well no, not really. I mean, I read the words in the newspaper, but what they implied was lost in translation.
I knew there was a chance I might get wet, so I removed my wallet and didn't bother with my backpack. I took a business card with the hotel name and address, and my own business card with my name on it (in case someone found my body), my ATM card, and the little money I had (about $16). I took a look at the map, memorizing the streets in this area, then folded the map, and put it in my backpack, which I intentionally left behind. I find that, if you are going to explore a strange city at night, it's much more sa-nook (fun) without a map, and anyway, being a former Boy Scout, I have an infallible sense of direction.
I made my way out of the hotel, picked up a couple of rocks in case of dogs, and made my way to the main street, a couple of blocks away, where I discarded the rocks. They were unnecessary. The lane I wanted was directly across the street from where I was standing, right next to the Citibank headquarters, according to my map. But there were six lanes of traffic and a canal in between me and it, so I had to walk a couple of blocks to the nearest intersection, where I could take a pedestrian bridge across the road.
As I'm standing facing the narrow lane, deciding if I really want to do this at night, a tall foreigner with a German accent asked me if I spoke English. "Yes," I replied, "I'm from Canada."
"Do you know where one can eat in a restaurant without getting wet?"
Um, well, as far as I know, you can eat in any restaurant without getting wet. We seemed to be on different wavelengths, so he toddled off one way, and I toddled off down the lane.
Turning the corner, I saw a pickup truck ahead, filled with young people with buckets of water, stopped at the side of the road. Oh, oh, what to do, what to do? I stood in a doorway, hidden from view. A young woman came walking out of a side lane, and looked startled at seeing me hiding in a dark doorway. I pointed at the truck up the street and yelled "Songkran!" and she laughed and walked on. I had the thought that if a young woman was unafraid about walking down a dark lane alone at night, I, a former Boy Scout, could certainly make my way past the truck. So I stepped out, and just at that moment, the truck pulled away.
I walked down the lane, which twisted and curved around, and as I passed by an intersection, another truck came around the corner and I got squirted a couple of times. I walked on, and was about to walk past an apartment building when I heard someone laughing. Looking up, I saw four young men with a big bucket and some pots, so I quickly crossed the road and continued on. I made it to a main street without further incident, and continued walking towards Silom.
Or so I thought.
I was looking for Convent Road, which I knew would take me directly to Silom. I came to an intersection, and the sign said this was Convent Road, but it was not going the way I thought it should go. So, unlike most men, I asked for directions. A young woman came along, and I said "Ta-nohn Silom tee nai?" which means "Road Silom where?" which is how you ask a question in Thai. She pointed down the street, matching what the sign said. So my infallible sense of direction was pointing me 90 degrees off from where it should have pointed; it was pointing this-a-way and it should have been pointing that-a-way. Oh well, seems to me I never did get all my Scout merit badges.
I walked down Convent Road towards Silom, and passed through an area of 4 or 5 restaurants side by side. This is one of the great pleasures of Thailand. The sidewalk was crammed with tables, over 100 people, with barely any room to squeeze through. But the smells are incredible... all that Thai food, cooked right there on the street, just fantastic. I looked inside the restaurants, and they were all empty. Everyone was outside enjoying the atmosphere. I love the smells of Thai food.
I got to Silom finally and was amazed at all the people. There were thousands of people, covering the road. Silom has six lanes with a large median in the centre, which has huge pylons holding up the SkyTrain. There was a single lane of traffic, moving very slowly, mostly pickup trucks filled with people armed with water pistols and buckets and pots of water. The sidewalks and other lanes were filled with people doing the same thing. Loud rock music was playing from several directions.
Oh, now I understand. The last night of a five day water festival. Party time.
I was on the south side of Silom. Where I wanted to be was on the north side, which is where most of the restaurants are and where I knew there were a number of ATMs. The SkyTrain station was right above me, and 50 feet to the right of where I was standing, was a long stairway up to the station. The problem was, there were over a hundred people between me and the stairway, and they were all armed.
Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
I slowly made my way through the crowd to the stairway, getting squirted a few times, but not too badly, considering.
I climbed the stairs and made my way down the stairs on the north side.
The crowd was thicker on the north side, and I found myself being pushed along by the people as they moved into a side lane en masse. OK, I had no particular destination in mind, so I just went along with the flow.
The lane was narrow, and there were hundreds of people. Along the sides were lots of young people armed with buckets of water, water pistols, and one guy had a hose, which he squirted on everyone. Within seconds, I was drenched. There was an incredible amount of noise, rock music, people laughing and squealing when they got splashed. I kept my hands on my pockets, protecting my money, as I was pushed and squeezed by people deeper and deeper into the lane.
I was squirted from the side, and the water went into my eyes. I had to put my hands on the side of my face to protect my eyes from all the water.
At one point, I happened to look up and saw, like a freeze frame, a bucketload of water coming at us, a meter above our heads. I ducked, and sure enough, my back was drenched. Then moments later, two more bucketloads hit me from the rear.
Just then, I heard some tall people yelling at each other, saying something like "This is stupid, how will we get out?" I couldn't see through my glasses, as they were steamed up and all wet, but they were obviously foreigners. The tallest one started bulling his way forward toward the main street, causing the people around me to lose their balance and squeeze even closer together. Now this is a dangerous situation; this is how people get crushed and trampled. Fortunately, it eased up as the crowd adjusted and the bulls made their way out of the lane.
The crush of people eased a little, and something very cold splashed my back. I turned around, and a young guy was scooping ice water out of a big cooler filled with Cokes. I yelled "Nam kaeng!" (ice) at him, and he laughed and said yes, and offered to throw a second bowl of ice water at me. I declined, so he changed his angle slightly and threw it at the back of a young girl who promptly squealed.
At one point, a young guy gave me a fierce hug and yelled "Happy New Year!" in my face from six inches away.
The crowd kept moving forward further into the lane, and I went with them. I knew there was a street parallel to Silom, so I thought I would just go to the end of the lane, and take a taxi home from there, and forget about the ATM for tonight. But as I went further, the crowd stopped moving and I discovered that this particular lane was a dead end. I stood there, looking back at 2000 people, wondering if I had the energy to do that again. Suddenly I got squirted again. I was standing next to a bar with an open door, so I quickly ducked in there and stood dripping in their entrance.
The bar was mostly empty, and loud rock music was playing. I squished and squelched over to the bar, and ordered a Coke, which she poured into a glass with ice, and brought it to me where I was standing at the bar.
I reached into my pockets for my money and discovered I had no money. Well, I still had some coins and my ATM card and a blob of pulp that in a previous life had been business cards, but the bills were gone. That guy who was hugging me was probably pinning my arms while his light-fingered friend was lifting my money. I never felt a thing.
I pulled out the coins I still had. The drink was 60 baht ($2) but all I had was 40 baht and a few cents. I pushed it at her, and then yelled "Kamoy!" (thief) and showed her I had no more money. She looked uncertain as to what to do, but then made a motion which clearly meant "Give me more money". I yelled "Kamoy" again, and went through my little pantomime again, then suddenly noticed that the loud rock music I was listening to was Spanish Techno-Rock. And the name of the bar was "Noriega's".
Expect the unexpected.
Here I am, standing dripping wet, listening to Spanish Techno-Rock, in a Spanish bar in Thailand, with no money, unable to pay for a drink. How weird is that?
There was a Spanish-looking guy, with a pony-tail, standing near the doorway. Four or five young guys came in, and he stopped them, and asked them in Thai what they wanted. They said they wanted to use the toilet, and he said okay, but he made them leave their guns on the counter. I'm thinking, this is just like a Western movie. The kids put their water pistols on the counter and made their way to the washroom at the back of the bar. After they left, I figured that was a good idea, maybe I could dry off a little, so I went back too, but there were no paper towels and no hand dryers. Sigh.
When I went back to the bar for my drink, I asked the Spanish-looking guy if he was the owner, Noriega. He said, yes, he was, and he had escaped from jail and had a facelift. He has probably told that joke a thousand times, but I laughed. He told me that his father was from Chile and had married a Thai woman, and that he, Noriega, was born in Thailand and spent all his life here. And he didn't speak Spanish, only Thai and English.
I told him a kamoy had taken my money, and that I didn't have enough to pay for the drink, and he said that was OK, then reached behind the bar for his wallet, and took out a 100 baht note (about $3) to give to me for a taxi home. I thanked him, declined, and told him I was walking distance away. He then showed me the back door, which led to a parking lot, and said that I could avoid the crush out front by going out that way.
So I did that, but the problem was, that lane lead back to Silom, where there were thousands of people. Sigh.
I stood there, watching the action, and planning my next move. I didn't want to get caught up in a crush again. As I was watching, a tall, skinny German-looking lady, maybe 65 years old, appeared in front of me and squealed and laughed. Someone had just squirted her in the back. She made her way across the lane in front of me, and someone squirted her again, and she squealed again, so then two more people squirted her.
There were stairs leading to the SkyTrain station, and right near them, an ATM. Only 200 people between me and them. Sigh.
I stepped out onto the sidewalk on Silom, and very shortly, a young man stepped directly in front of me holding a small plastic bowl half-filled with white goop, the flour slurry. He slopped some on both my cheeks and grinned at me; I reached into his bowl and smeared his face, too, and he said "Happy New Year!". I said "Happy New Year to you too!" and turned slightly and saw a young woman grinning at me. She slopped some goop on my face and I did the same to her, and we exchanged greetings, all of us grinning like maniacs, surrounded by noise and hustle-bustle.
And now I finally get it. The last night of a five day water festival. Happy New Year.
And I'm thinking about the silly ritual we practice in Western society where everyone wears a party hat and stands around drinking beer or wine until close to midnight, and then everyone counts down from 10 to 1, then kisses the person next to them, and then blows a loud horn. The Thai way is much more sa-nook.
To make a long story longer, I made it to the ATM, climbed the stairs to the station platform, bought a 30 cent ticket, rode one stop, and got off near my hotel. I then discovered two convenience stores that I hadn't known about, so I stopped and bought a few supplies. Yet another cultural difference: both stores sold milk by the litre, but neither sold large containers of orange juice, only small drinking boxes. But both stores had 8 or 10 kinds of green tea in litre bottles. I passed.
I walked two blocks to my lane, and stopped to pick up a couple of rocks to throw at the dogs, if necessary. It was necessary. As I approached the end of the lane, two dogs came bounding out, barking furiously. Why do they always have to be guard dogs? Why can't they be guard cats or guard canaries?
At home in the hotel, I was shocked when I looked in the mirror. My hair was plastered to my head, my face and neck were covered in flour, my shirt and shorts were dripping wet, and had many flour blotches. I could see my nipples and chest hair through the T-shirt. I was a walking wet T-shirt contest
Anyway, I'm a "glass is half full kind of guy", not a "glass is half empty guy". Taking stock of the situation, I had a neat adventure, accomplished my goal of getting money from an ATM, went down some roads I hadn't been before, enjoyed some wonderful smells, got plastered (literally), and discovered a couple of convenience stores conveniently located near my hotel. And all it cost me was $16.
Sa-nook.
Happy New Year.
