Songkran in Chiang Mai.
It seems the phrase of the moment is ‘Happy New Year’, for I have celebrated it three different times so far this year. The most recent being the Thai New Year celebration, called Songkran. It is a three day festival when traditionally elders and monks are paid respect by dousing them with fragrant water originally used to cleanse the Buddha. The festival has evolved and the younger generation has introduced water fights on the streets, a welcome activity in the height of dry season. The most famous place to celebrate Songkran is Chiang Mai so my friends and I stocked up on water pistols and flowery shirts (as is the custom) and bundled ourselves into a minivan for the red eye journey to the biggest water fight in the world.
We arrived before dawn on the day before the festivities
were due to begin, had a strong coffee and headed to our hostel. Usually in Thailand is unnecessary to prebook
anything but, during Songkran, rooms and transport are scarce so we prebooked a
month in advance, and even at that we were lucky. We decided to be tourists on the first day so
headed upland to Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, the temple at the top of Doi Suthep
Mountain. As Songkran is a Buddhist festival it was
nice to see the locals paying respect to the Buddha by pouring water over the
shoulders of the statues, which is believed to bring good luck and prosperity for
the new year. The temple is one of the
most elaborate I’ve seen so far, with 309 steps to access the pagodas. I later found out via Wikipedia that there is
a tram. Best I just forget I read that, Wikipedia’s
not always accurate anyway, right? The
stairs were lined on both sides with decorative four headed dragons leading the
way to the glistening gold Chedi at the top.
We descended to meet our Sorngthaew driver for our journey back to our
hostel. Little did we know before
setting off that morning that the Songkran celebrations were already in full
flow, pardon the pun, and that Sorngthaews and Tuk Tuks would be prime targets
for buckets of ice cold water. We got
drenched and had a little taster of what was to come in the following days.
After dinner and drinks at a little bar adjacent to the
hostel, we tucked ourselves into bed at the respectable hour of 3am, full of
Thai rum and excitement. The next
morning was blurry so the first bucket of water down my neck was a welcome
hangover cure. The 73 that followed made
me feel even better. We ventured out to
the heart of the hoopla, where there were stages pumping out music, hoses
pumping our foam and water and Thai ladyboys throwing some serious shapes. The name of the game is fun. At no other time and no other place is it so
socially acceptable to walk up to someone, hover a bucket of water over them
and soak them to the skin. So, like
naughty school children, we partook with delight. Within minutes of going outside we were
drenched right through. Walking through
the streets we got buckets lobbed in our faces, quite fiercely, by other
foreigners. I preferred the Thai
approach of gently pouring it over ones shoulders and whispering, “sawat dee pi
mai ka” (happy new year). Some of the
backpackers took it a bit too far hurling it in people’s faces, like a watery slap. The Thai people were very inclusive and
welcomed us with a trickle of water and a splodge of wet talc, which is smeared
on the face as a blessing. 
On the second day we decided to set up camp at a bar, where
we could seek refuge inside until we were ready to go to water wars with the
group of Scandinavian boys we encountered there. Plus, we had a ready supply of beer and
music. Outside, our victims were Tuk
Tuks, Sorngthaews and any pretty girls the boys decided to soak through with
their massive bucket. Although the
streets were awash, it was business as usual on the roads with traffic in full
flow. I resisted any urge to fling water
on motorcyclists, although they were not immune to the chaos. Nobody was safe, apart from little old ladies
who managed to hobble around remaining completely dry. On the final day we really went for it and stayed out as late as possible wandering the streets for playmates. As it was the last day everyone took it up a notch and I think I was the wettest I had ever been, if that is possible. People danced on the streets and lobbed buckets of water from pick up trucks. It was the biggest, and wettest, street party I’ve ever attended…and I was there for the Queens Jubilee, not even the British rain could soak me through as much as several buckets of water fresh from the moat in Chiang Mai.
On the following day the streets were tranquil and dry. Although I had the most fun since arriving in Thailand, I was relieved to see an end to the soggy pandemonium as I had scheduled a Tuk Tuk ride to the bus station for my return journey to Nakhon Sawan. I arrived at the station dry and tired, and made my way back to my own bed. For the last time this year (I think), sawat dee pi mai ka!
Images: Cassidi Hunkler & Jennifer Kimmerling.
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