Back to Bangkok

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, 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 me with their water gun? I 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 soon became 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 your face, back, 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 eachother. 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. 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 (it was 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 waterfights 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!