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| After our first day of WATER! |
We chose to go to Chiang Mai to celebrate due to the
rumored hype we had heard from the small town in the north. Sitting through 12 hours of traffic, eight of
my classmates and I braved the bus ride up to the north to witness the largest
water fight in the world.
Chiang Mai is a unique city – in that there is one
part – the old city, that is contained by a moat (yes – WATER) with which the
surrounding city has overgrown. Every
year during Songkran, the moat is overflowed with water, and everyone comes out
to play for the holiday.
And when I mean everyone, I mean EVERYONE - from
toddlers to grandparents, every family member comes out to get a splash of the
action. As we anxiously awoke to our
early morning alarms at 8am on our first day off in months, we squealed as we
put on our waterproof shorts and swim suits – anticipating a sprinkling. Our first priority was to buy water guns, and
we had already staked out the place to buy some on the street just next to our
hostel. As we walked outside we began
gleefully talking about what to expect, how wet do you think we would get, how
crazy it was all going to be…within ten feet of our apartment, as we were
babbling away – a hose went off. Within
seconds and steps from our apartment, we were head to toe soaked. We all looked at
each other, smiled and shrieked, “This is awesome.” Running down the street to get to our water
guns was like running through a pit of hungry alligators – everyone was
desperate to get you. And the worst part
was it didn’t matter that we were completely drenched and couldn’t absorb one
more bit of water – bucket after bucket kept coming. As we picked out our neon water guns and
filled up the canisters, we assessed the battle zone.
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| The chaos in Chiang Mai |
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| The weaponry |
The old people were by far the worst – they showed
no mercy. After spending nearly 6 hours
out in the hot sun playing with the water, we went back to our hostel,
showered, took naps, and got ready to go out for dinner. As we peeked out of the corner of our hostel,
our small alley street looked clear. We
tip-toed down the street, getting more and more confident that the water fights
had stopped – it was nearly 7pm after all.
As we made it around the last corner, that same hose got us again. We all screamed. And with that, we announced our arrival onto
the main road, where countless water guns and pails welcomed us on our way to
dinner. Suba and I questioned why we
bothered changing and vowed next time to come more prepared – with water guns
of our own. This fighting, splashing,
soaking and screaming went on…for three straight days.
Songkran was a great reminder for me, about the
importance of family, and the enjoyment of light-hearted FUN. It has been quite a while since I had a water
fight, and never have I had one of that magnitude. You found yourself smiling with total
strangers, being ambushed by four year olds (incredible ambush if I might add),
and being soaked by grandparents.  |
| Riding in the back of a pick up truck during Songkran... |
On our last day of the festival, we even got our dream
– our hostel manager was going out in his truck with his family and invited us
to come along. As we piled into the car
with his dad, mom, sisters, nieces and nephews, we began to pump ourselves up
for the fight. As each pail hit our car –
we squealed, screamed and shouted. And
as I sat in that truck, smiling and shivering next to one of his four-year old
girls on the way home, I realized that fun transpires all translation, and
Thailand sure knew how to have FUN.
