We arrived back in Bangkok
at daybreak and all seemed quiet on the southern front. We had no idea what was
in store for us later that day. We had stumbled into yet, another New Year, but
this one was MUCH different than the last. In Thailand, years ago, monks used to
walk around for three days on the New Year, sprinkling water on people as a
sort of cleansing. I guess eventually it caught on to the locals, and then once
tourists got involved, it evolved into a full-blown three day water fight.
Nothing could have prepared us for this. It all started with just a few people
on the street stepping out from behind poles, cars, dogs, and randomly blasting
us with squirt guns, laughing their heads off while we stood there dumbfounded.
Why would a stranger just shoot us with their water gun? We don't even KNOW
them! As the day progressed, we quickly realized it was everyone for themselves.
By mid-morning, those few people on the street multiplied to a few hundred
thousand. The streets were so packed; there was barely any room to move. On top
of that, the squirt guns were soon replaced by giant super soakers half the
size of a human being. For some reason, and I don't know how this ever got
thrown into the mix, bowls of wet chalk also became a weapon of choice and
those who couldn't afford a water gun would scoop up a hand full of chalk and
smear it across our faces, backs, hair, wherever... By noon, it was full out
war. Old men and women, shop keepers, vender's, kids, parents, everyone was
involved. Water and chalk everywhere, I mean EVERYWHERE! Ian, Brent and I were
even turning on each other. We were soaked to the bone, caked with mud, and had
wild looks in our eyes. We were straight out of Lord of the Flies, except
instead of chanting boys, dancing around a bonfire, we were surrounded by
dancing Thai transvestites in mini skirts and tube tops out in the streets. That
was the scariest part of the day. The most shocking part of the whole
experience was when Brent brought up the question of where all the monks were.
We assumed, inside the temple taking refuge. Within seconds of coming to that
conclusion, we look up and over top of the monastery wall a row of monks were
plowing down a group of dancing transvestites, with their own super soakers.
When monks become corrupt, no one is safe.
By day two, we were over the water fights, and tired of being constantly wet,
we resorted to shooting people from our guesthouse window. It was hilarious! By
day three we had to face the fights again, as it was our last day in Bangkok and we had to go
souvenir shopping. Trying to get back to the guesthouse with all our gifts
mid-day on the last day of water fights and the craziest day of all was like
mission impossible. The tuk-tuk driver had to drop us off about 10 blocks from
our guesthouse because we just happened to be staying in the heart of all the
chaos. By ducking around corners and hiding in bushes, we somehow managed to
avoid most of the water and chalk, and arrived back at the guesthouse virtually
unscathed! It was a miracle!
The next day, the paranoia was still dwindling and it took a while to convince
ourselves the water fights were actually over, and that someone wouldn't jump
out of a bush to attack us. We did some last minute shopping, then hopped in
the cab to the airport. After almost getting arrested from dramas over expired
visas, we eventually had to pay A LOT of money just to leave the country. Why
did we have to leave on a bad note? The anger soon wore off, however, and soon
the excitement of heading home kicked in! We were heading home!
