And so Songkran has arrived. Probably the most festive time in Thailand. Traditionally it is the Thai New year, as we enter the year 2555, in accordance with the Buddhist calendar. The festivities are scheduled around April 13-16 every year. Traditionally many people make their way to their family towns and homes. As a result many businesses are closed and many native Phuket people fill that vacuum with their arrival back to be with family and friends. Songkran is probably best known as the water festival. In Malaysia, they celebrate similarly and refer to it as the Thai Water Festival.
There are many reference sites on the internet explaining the origins of the festival, but essentially it began as a celebration of the passing of the sun into the sign of Aries. Traditionally it was a time of respectfully worship of the elders, with the rinsing of hands with perfumed water. With time, this has now, in major centers turned into more of a carnival atmosphere. While many Thai's do go to the temple and make merit on the first day and participate in traditional practices related, after merit, it seems it is time to burst open the water. This normally takes the form, nowadays, in the purchase of the largest possible water cannon, and involves soaking everyone in sight. One unfortunate aspect of this is that the non-Thai's like and participate in the water soaking aspect, sometimes to the highest point of being an idiot, menace and nuisance, they do not seem to understand the significance of the secular aspects.
Having participated last year in our first Songkran festival, in Phuket town, we decided that as I had to work patrol in Patong later in the night, we had might as well go to Patong to see what happens there. I can say that having done so, it is probably the last time that Patong will feature in our destination site for Songkran. It was something I do not regret having seen, but having seen it once, is more than enough. But more on that later.
So off we headed, dressed in water friendly shorts, flip flops and singlets. Our wallets, cell phones and camera secured in zip-lock bags. To get to Patong requires a drive through a number of smaller communities for a distance of about 30 kilometers. Not more than one kilometer from home we had the first splashing by water pistols. I have become fairly adapt at scanning the horizon of water spraying areas, and pulling my helmet visor down to to not get my glasses soaked and impair my vision. I think I have about a 80% accuracy in being prepared for the splashing. As we got closer to the community of Kata, the intensity of the water bombing increased. Now we had to maneuver small winding streets lined with bars and restaurants. The pedestrians were walking on the roadways, people running alongside and spraying you, and of course being stuck behind cars and trucks, some of whom are driving slowly to douse the pedestrians, when you come to a complete stop, it is apparently an invitation for having a bowl or bucket of water poured over you. The one thing about poured water is that the temperature is never consistent. You can almost guarantee that if it is from a bar front, the water will have been chilled in that 45 gallon drum with a nice large block of ice. As I managed to weave my way through the traffic, I found a break and was feeling fairly smug that I was no longer stuck behind the vehicles and could weave and dodge water as necessary. About the time I began to wonder why this particular area had so much water on the roadway, but no visible water throwing people, a man with a 1/2" hose standing on the roof of a two story building, let loose in a down-pouring of tepid water. The rest of the 25 kilometers was travelle din similar fashion. The good thing is that in the heat of 36 degrees celcius, on the open streteches of roadway, you tended to dry out enough to get all warm again, before getting poured upon.
Eventually we made our way to Patong. The beach road is normally a slow moving roadway on a good day. And tonight it would prove to be gruelingly congested. By now what had been primarily a majority of Thai people spraying us, we now entered the "wow, I can get shit face drunk and spray people, tourists". Emboldened I am sure by the degree of inebriation (some bars had opened as early as 8Am to begin the days celebrations) the scene became more and more chaotic as we got closer to the main celebration area at Bangla Road. I had gotten separated from Clive, and stopped at one point to try and wait up for him. This was my first "dusting". Dusting is a practice where the person has a supply of Prickly Heat, Baby, or Scented talcum, Powder which they shake into their wet hands and smear on your neck or face. In my case sort of my beard and over my lips. I can say that in the most dire need of something to put in my mouth, I can safely say that Prickly Heat Powder with it's menthol base will not be on my list of things to try. Take if from me, you probably don't want to either. From between the stopped vehicles appeared a very innocent looking young Thai man. He said "Happy New Year papa, sorry", as he christened me with what would be the first of many dusting I would get before the night was out. I should also say that the dusting was not limited to people. I saw many instances of close bank currency exchange booths plastered with large hand-prints. My most intriguing scene however had to be the beautiful, midnight black, BMW sedan, with black tinted windows, someone had parked in the area, and would discover later it had transformed into a black car with many, many, many hand-prints in powder paste stamped on it. In truthful description, it would be better described as a white hand print BMW with the occasional black trace outlines.
You may be wondering why there are no photos to go with the story. The truth is that I did take my camera, all wrapped up, but in order to shoot anything, would have involved taking it out of the bags. I had seen already that people with cameras and cell phones out, tended to become sudden targets. I did not mind if I got wet, but my camera...well that is another thing.
And all of this and it was still only 6PM. We managed to meet up with our friends and wandered along the beach road, and back, eventually looking up the famous Bangla Road. There is no way to describe it except for mayhem under water. As far as you could see were people, water pistols and cannons, buckets, tubs and barrels of water, and standing water puddles on the roadway. At this point I noticed that the police were keeping an observer role outside of the actual Bangla road. I than also noticed that they had their holstered 9mm handguns in zip-lock bags and their portable radios, also similarly wrapped or bagged. And so, we had come to experience Patong, and off we headed up the middle of this truly festive party. In my mind, I was thinking, "this is great, I go on duty patrol here at 9PM!". As you will know from previous posts, any of my experiences while on patrol are confidential and I cannot share them, but safe to say I had a long wet shift!!
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