Adventures in South East Asia

32 ~ Ice

Chiang Mai, Thailand

After a flight and bus ride, I arrived in Chiang Mai at my absolute favourite time: an hour before dusk when the whole city slept. Joy. Unfortunately, that was also true for my hostel owners.

The tuktuk driver, one of the few people around at 4:30 in the morning, offered to drive me to a nearby hotel instead that he knew would be able to get me a room. I contemplated it, but decided I would pay more for that random morning of stay than a couple nights at the one I had already booked. Plus, my place had a quaint and garden-like courtyard, at least it appeared so from behind the locked gate in the glow of the street lamps.

The driver shook his head and drove off. I set my backpack down as a barrier between myself and the fence and used my scarf as a cushion to make the concrete more comfortable. Since I was running on fumes again, I hoped to catch a few minutes of sleep in the hour or two I anticipated it would take the owners to wake up and open the gate. Sleeping on the streets. I could add that to my check list right under kissing on a motorcycle. Travel never failed to offer a wealth of experiences.

Sleeping didn't go so well as I woke up at every slight noise like the Thai man giving me a curious look as he went to fill up a jug with water or another who came by on a bicycle. No one stopped, but they indicated that I certainly did stand out.

A little over an hour later, a man opened the gate and let me inside. My room wouldn't be available until later that morning or afternoon, but he offered me a choice of lounge chairs that he assured me would be more comfortable than the curb. He showed me the showers and luggage storage, both of which I was welcome to use.

I alternated between napping and looking through google maps to figure the city out. At nine, I went walking off to a yoga class I had researched after my vision of Bali had been altered. A Dutch ex-patriot ran the class frequented by mainly tourists and other ex-patriots in a nice open air studio surrounded by plant life. It was a refreshing way to spend an hour; however, my twice sleep deprived body was less cooperative than usual during tougher poses.

Once morning passed and I had a room to call my temporary home, I reconnected with another woman, Carrie, who I taught with in Bangkok. She was still working at the school, but Songkran, the new year's festival was a national holiday, so everyone was off for the week. We met up at one of the old city gates, in the markets.

She and her visiting brother's girlfriend recommended I equip myself with a water gun for Songkran. We set off to 7-11 and soon I had an intense water gun connected to a water tank I wore on my back as a pack. Locked and loaded. The festival didn't officially start for a couple days, but Chiang Mai was already gearing up. Vendors all around had toy guns and buckets on tables for sale.

We hung out at my friend Carrie's guesthouse lobby, which also doubled as a tattoo parlour. While we caught up on the gossip at the school that I had missed over the past month and a half, her brother got his tattoo completed. As an animal lover, she was quite excited to learn I had become a vegetarian. Her influence had played a role in my decision.

She shared how she wasn't excited to go back home to her small minded town in Canada where they had heartbreaking stories like offering rewards for wolf hunts to control the population. She also made her own vegan soaps. She had given us each a few bars at Christmas earlier that year.

More people were in Chiang Mai than I had anticipated. I was pretty excited to hear that Sam and Jessica, my favourite teaching couple, as well as Hanita, another teaching partner I had travelled Malaysia with last October, would both be overlapping my stay here by a couple days. I had thought I was missing everyone but Carrie. How exciting.

While in the lobby, two tourist men had water guns and were squirting back and forth. I was itching to get into the Songkran spirit and was given an excuse when they shot some water our way. I ran to fill up my gun with the hose that the hostel owners had lent them, and by the end of the whole ordeal I looked like a drowned rat. Them, not so much. The buckets would have been a better investment, but it was still undeniably fun.

Later that night, I got to have a mini reunion with our teacher circle. We had all collaborated during the year as we worked with students of a similar age. We went for a little karaoke, where I got talked into performing Bohemian Rhapsody with Jessica after a few drinks. Luckily, her voice was strong and carried over my weak and passive one.

We ventured over to the club district that I had managed to miss on all three of my previous visits to the city. The whole concept was like the strip mall of clubbing. There were bars and clubs for every musical taste from reggae to dubstep to country to jazz. Some were average sized and others as small as coffee or boutique shops.

After getting my dancing fix with the ladies during the first hour, I settled into a seat at the jazz bar with Jessica, Sam and one of their Thai friends. Live music beckoned me closer and I hadn't heard much jazz, certainly not live, since I left Canada. In the weeks leading up to my departure to Thailand, a friend of mine had put on a final concert with his jazz group as part of his honours music program.

I had loved to hear him play since high school. His music had this inspiring and beautiful quality to it and I had no doubts that he would go places with it. Around this time on the other side of the world, a group he played in was nominated for a Canadian music award. Being at the jazz club brought those memories back and I could do nothing but smile and let all the tension out.

The following day, Songkran was beginning to arrive in full swing. By mid-afternoon, I met up with Hanita and her visiting friend and we joined the street water battle. Hanita was smiles and laughs as per usual, drawing people to our group. Her playful personality and beauty certainly helped and I couldn't imagine how she did travelling on her own. I got enough attention just being average. She was always an good addition to a group. She rounded us out in experience since she had lived and grown up four different continents, originally from India, and brought a fresh perspective.

Before we were allowed to get water from the big bin, which featured a large ice cube, freezing water was thrown at us, coating our chests and faces. We wiped it away and laughed. I followed Jessica's advice of keeping my eyes and mouth closed since most water was dirty canal water and eye infections could run rampant.

Water came flying at us from across the street and we quickly filled up with liquid ammunition. We kept battling back and forth. Hanita and I had it out for a particular jerk on the other side who wouldn't show mercy for those on motorbikes with damageable goods or children.

"A songtao!" One of the American guys in a wife beater shirt called out from our side. Our battle paused and we all worked together on this next mission.

He jumped in front of the slow moving vehicle and motioned for us to go around the back. We brought our fully loaded guns and came around to back to the small door opening where a group of eight people sat with worried looks on their faces.

"Happy Songkran!" we yelled and sprayed water into the truck bed.

The passengers screamed a little before throwing water back in our directions and we returned to our battle posts to continue our raging water battle again the foreigners and Thais on the opposite site of the street.

The most shocking part of songkran was to receive a bucketful of ice water to the face. The regular water was simply refreshing, but that chilled water was something else. Ice was sold in monster blocks just for the occasions. Hanita made it her mission to sneak ice down the shirts of a few of the playful Thai and Korean guys on our side, earning her own retaliation ice attacks in return. I could just stand and laugh.

We did follow a few general rules: don't splash women with small children, people with electronics and my own, no one on a motorbike or bicycle as it didn't feel safe. We kept saying we'd leave the fight, but more co-workers joined us and the battle continued to rage on. Joe came by with a water pistol that packed a serious punch. My backpack gun paled in comparison. The next three days would be an absolute blast.