Songkran: praise Buddha and pass the water bottle

Songkran, in very short, is Thai new year--by the way: welcome to the year 2557--and historically was a mix of Buddhism and one strain or another of ancestor reverence. I say “historically” because as far as I can tell it’s about as connected to religious beliefs as Christmas is to Christianity in America. Sure, some people take it very seriously, and many people put in an extra appearance at church/temple, but when you’re opening presents and drinking boozy eggnog, Jesus is the furthest thing from your mind; just like Buddha and your great-great-great-someone aren’t front and center as you get blasted in the face with a supersoaker and blindly return fire with your helplessly under-powered squirt gun. 

If you’ve never heard of Songkran you might be thinking huh? right around now. That’s because Songkran, in addition to being Thai new year,  is a three day, nationwide water fight. I sure as hell didn’t know that. This plays out in ways epic and quaint. On the small scale kids lurk in front yards ready to squirt you with water pistols or dudes sit around with garden hoses and buckets ready to absolutely drench you. On the grand scale large areas are cordoned off for various forms of massive water parties. It’s these grandscale water fights that got my attention. 

One of the things I’ve relished explaining to people in Southeast Asia is America’s litigiousness. The concept is utterly alien to them and watching them grapple with the reality of suing over things like uneven sidewalks or a pants damaged in dry cleaning is priceless. You’d think I’m explaining that Americans are actually a different species that evolved from dolphins. A Thai friend of ours, Belle, has even taken to making this a running joke. If one of us stumbles or brushes up against low-hanging wires she’ll chirp, “Lawsuit!” and then cackle. 

As an American and dolphin descendant, it was well-nigh impossible not to think lawsuit! every few minutes while walking around a couple massive Songkran festivals. At last count there were 248 deaths and 2,643 injured related to Songkran, so I’m not being flippant here (80% traffic related, I should add, making pretty American-like). Tons of water + uneven, slick surfaces + electrical cables + booze + densely packed crowds + revelry = well... here’s where felicific calculus gets mired in impossible tradeoffs and American litigiousness makes my fellow Americans look a bit too much like a late model Howard Hughes. 

Unfortunately Spectra’s phone decided to forget our Songkran escapades so we don’t have any personal pictures leaving me at Google’s mercy, but this gives you a sense of the human density I’m talking about: 

Brought to you by decree of Buddha and your ancestors!

What you can’t see in the picture is everyone is standing in an inch or two of water and that’s only a third of the masses in this one location. The next major festival location, Siam Square, was only a few blocks away. 

True to my nature, I was skeptical of all of this, and while I was willing to check it out to get a sense of the experience, I was planning on going strictly as an observer. Of course I’d get wet and people could throw water on me or blast away with supersoakers, but this was their thing and I was merely a tourist passing through happily getting caught in the crossfire. But a funny thing happened on my way to meeting my lawyer: Spectra handed me her supersoaker and the whole experience changed. It was a classic “DRINK ME” moment and suddenly I was through the looking-glass (yes, I know that’s a Disney-esque mashup of Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, but “through the tiny door” doesn’t have the same cultural cache). 

As I’ve mentioned on many occasions, I can be a bit thick and, in Mua’s word, “overserious” (she’s known me for, like, two weeks so either it’s obvious or she’s observant or both). It’s true, I admit it, I accept this -- even as I continue to ponder what it means -- and in this case my thick-overseriousness prevented me from properly considering the water throwing/shooting dynamic. Only after I was soaked did it occur to me that the dynamic is optimal when your target can shoot back… for both parties! 

Don’t get me wrong, Spectra and I got plenty wet without weapons of our own. But when you can shoot back there’s a reciprocity, a fleeting kinship forged in laughter and simultaneously shielding yourself while trying to fire back. This behavior is sublime and ridiculous. You know it, your target/assailant knows it, and you both love it. This is a thing of beauty. 

I imagine I looked something like this when the truth dawned on me: 

Sawyer makes a discovery.

Does a massive water fight with tens or hundreds of thousands people that a brings a city of 15 million people to standstill sound fun? How about a water fight that brings a nation of 67 million people to three day hault? Even if you answer yes, of course, duh I can now confirm, Neanderthal Scientist-style, that you don’t know the half of it. It’s not fun; it’s deliriously surreal. I find it bewildering that Songkran isn’t considered one of the Seven Cultural Wonders of the World (this list, in the “cultural event” sense that I’m using here, may not exist… at least that’s what about 30 seconds of internet searching has indicated). 

Spectra and I marveled at the merciful and profound un-American-ness of it all. Let’s set aside the idea of crippling our largest cities for a few days. It’s such a simple concept -- massive water fight! -- but good luck getting the necessary permits and insurance to shut down multiple, multi-block sections of a city to set up stages and speakers and concerts. It’s all free and there are no controls on the sizes of the crowds. As a friend of mine once said, “Nevah gonna happen GI.” Yes, it’s a bit mad, perhaps even considerably mad, but it’s also borderline transcendental. 

In America it’s definitely “a thing” to want to attend a Japanese tea ceremony, celebrate Carnivale in Brazil, or run with the bulls in Spain, but I’ve never heard anyone long to make it to Thailand for Songkran some day. Either I spend an inordinate amount of time with cultural ingrates or this is yet another example of America’s bizarre global ignorance. After attending Songkran all I can say is it should be one of the Seven Cultural Wonders of the World and -- depending on your inclinations, interest in personal safety and physical state -- at the top.

Spectra and I wandered home exhausted, soaked, with dumb grins on our faces and surrounded by exhausted, soaked Thai people with dumb grins on their faces. Many a knowing glance and nod were exchanged. It all left me speechless, which wasn’t a problem because I let the unerring accuracy of my Avengers (surely officially licensed) supersoaker do my talking for me. But you, dear reader, I can’t spray in the face, chest, back or legs (location varied with a variety of appropriateness factors) so you’ll have to be content with the words of a great, nameless American who unwittingly nailed what you’ll feel like after Songkran: 

I can't say I seen London, and I never been to France, and I ain't never seen no queen in her damn undies, as the fella says. But I'll tell you what, after...[Songkran]...I guess I seen somethin' ever' bit as stupefyin' as ya'd see in any a those other places, and [occasionally] in English [here and there] too, so I can die with a smile on my face without feelin' like the good Lord [Buddha] gypped me.