Songkran: Thai New Year

Once a year during the hottest month of Thailand, the entire country comes to life in a nation-wide water festival. Streets everywhere are packed with children and adults bearing water guns, buckets of ice, and colorful chalk. Songkran, the Thai New Year, isn't celebrated like most other New Years, and between April 13 and April 15, the country welcomes another cycle of the Buddhist Era calendar through spending time with family, visiting temples, and participating in massive water fights.

I was in Ao Nang, Krabi during Songkran this year, living and training at Honour Muay Thai Gym. The days leading up to Songkran were filled with excited anticipation, with more and more water guns piling up on the mats. Some of the coaches would lurk behind corners, surprising anyone who passed by with a cold stream of water, leading to occasional post-training water fights. On the morning of the 13th, the coaches pulled into the gym with a pickup truck, everyone grabbed their water gun, and we piled into the back of the truck to head into town.

The moment we turned onto the main street, the water warfare began. To say it was intense would be an understatement; the roads were packed with trucks, cars, motorcycles, and pedestrians, and everyone was armed. It felt like we were driving through rainstorms and waterfalls as we were drenched by people on the side of the streets chasing us down with hoses and buckets. We were quick to fire back, cheering extra loudly each time we drenched a big group. Whenever a similar pickup truck drew near, a full-fledged water fight would ensue, with everyone pumping away at their water guns and hurling bucket after bucket of ice water. Cheers and laughter filled the streets as everyone unleashed their inner five year old self. No one was safe; unlucky tourists who chose to arrive that day with all their suitcases were not spared.

Once we reached the busiest strip of Ao Nang, we continued on foot, water guns in hand. Tents selling food, water guns, and chalk lined the street, and more and more people were carrying cups and bowls of colored chalk mixed with a bit of water, spreading generous amounts on all the faces passing by. As we paraded through the crowded streets, my face was covered in color, washed off with water, and then quickly covered in color again. This cycle of color and water continued while I got into intense water fights with 5 year olds, replenished my water supply from kiddie pools along the street, and occasionally hid in a corner to scarf down some food before it got caught in crossfire. Music played over loudspeakers, colorful water streamed through the pavement, and the streets were alive and electric as everyone celebrated the start of a new year.

I spent two full days in Ao Nang experiencing Songkran and brought back severe tan lines and residual chalk in my hair as proof that I did. It's such a bizarre experience, strangers shooting each other with water guns, dumping buckets of water on unsuspecting passersby, and rubbing paint on each other's faces. No one pays a thought to whether you're a close friend or a complete stranger (and to be honest, it's hard to tell when you're covered in ten different layers of chalk)– the same warm smiles, genuine laughter, and buckets of water and chalk are generously shared regardless. In Ao Nang, the scene is a diverse mix of people from different countries, and the locals welcome the excited tourists into their national holiday with open arms. It's a beautiful way to welcome the new year; the water symbolically cleanses and purifies, and the chalk is akin to a blessing, which originated from Buddhist traditions. School is out on summer vacation, and work is paused for a few days. There is a sense of simple, carefree joy in the air– and it really is hard to take things too seriously when you're running through the streets firing a water gun.

It's now the year 2567 in Thailand, and the start of a new calendar year also marks the start of a new school year. I've been enjoying two months of summer vacation alongside the other Fulbright ETAs; I spent some time working on a farm in Chanthaburi, took care of a pack of dogs in Khura Buri, and finally got the chance to experience the Andaman Sea in Krabi.

I'll be returning to Khammuang in another two weeks to resume teaching. I don't feel the same novel excitement that I felt before starting my very first day of teaching; I now concretely know the challenges I will be facing: the chaotic classrooms, the student disinterest, and the sheer exhaustion of standing in front of 40 students. Given the last two months of leisurely travel, I know it will be difficult to snap back into the routine of school. With all this in mind, I think I'm starting this new semester with a quiet excitement. I know that I will face old and new challenges in the classroom, but I also know that there will be so much to celebrate and enjoy, both in and out of the classroom. There are also so many things I've learned while teaching last semester, and I'm excited to hit the ground running and implement all the changes I want to see. Most of all, I'm excited to see my community in Khammuang again– my host teacher, my co-teachers, all my neighbors, the Pencack students, and my old students– and I'm excited to meet the 300 or so new faces that will be my students for the next three months.