Chronicles of the Itchy Footprint

Our driver was going on a steady but fast pace; the piercing rays of the Ayutthaya sun prickled my back and I was wearing jeans that made breathing difficult. But still, to complain was not an option. We just had a hearty lunch after spending the entire morning visiting temple ruins. However, we visited Ayutthaya mainly because of the Songkran Festival. This festival used to be the Thai New Year dated every April 13 and is celebrated for four to five days. Its main activity was the throwing of water to people as a symbol of cleansing them from all the negative energy. It was also the time of year in Thailand wherein the people visited temples to pay homage to Buddha and pray for their departed loved ones. My classmates and I expected a short parade, maybe a little street partying and lots of food—just like how we were used to seeing festivals back home.

On our way to another temple, we took a different route and that’s when then mood started to change. Here I was crammed inside a tuk-tuk with my five friends, but all I could feel was a new wave of excitement. I had a strong yet ecstatic inkling that I was going to dive into something. True enough, as our tuk-tuk crossed from this narrow street and into the main highway, pick-up trucks from all sizes and colours lined up on the asphalt horizon.

On the back of these trucks stood dams filled with water to the brim, men and women had their containers in hand while children had water guns. Everyone looked liked they showered with their clothes on while they danced lively on the streets. The laughter, the cheers and the music knew no gender, no age and no race. It was pure celebration; and not even the scorching sun could prevent it. Truth be told, I have never seen anything quite like it. Before I could even think about stepping down from the tuk-tuk—BAM! A middle-aged woman splashes a bucket of ice-cold water on me so strategically that from my sunglasses down to my sneakers, I was soaking wet. After that, a guy my age reaches in and spreads cool white paste on my face with his hands—which I later found out was mentholated talc. And not soon enough, my classmates, my teachers and I were infused in the celebration. I could say that I just experienced Thai culture at its richest.

To completely experience a different culture, I learned that it requires one to execute a sense of giving up. It’s not just about giving into the food or the festivals, but rather an opening up of the soul. A temporary collapse of the walls of what is familiar and allowing the rhythm of the country flow inside of you. And I think that with that brief moment of letting go, you just had the biggest adventure of your life.