Songkran in Bangkok

When we last talked, I was staying in Tailek's house, and mentioned something about a water fight. Now I have pictures to prove it.
This is Tailek (with Bee). He's not super happy about people rubbing clay on his face, but he's at that age where the horrible tribulations of daily life reduce you to tears for a minute, but then you find something new and wonderful to play with. Like a fork. (No one would let him play with those for long. He's got a rough life.) Tailek really liked that hose. This was a problem, because the water barrel kept running low, and we needed to throw water on people. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
For myself and many others, the festival began on Tuesday night on Khao San Road. Normally, this is a touristy street, full of bars, Western food, and backpackers. On this particular night, however, several anxious young Thais gathered to start Songkran. Most of the farangs (foreigners) joined in, although a few were only arriving, and (judging by their lack of waterproofing) hadn't gotten the memo that everything was subject to inundation. My fellow couchsurfers and I armed ourselves with water guns and entered the fray.
The cavalry.
Your typical Thai troop.
I love this guy.
Having a camera WILL NOT keep people from shooting you. A waterproof camera is necessary.
I don't know where this girl was getting her water, but she refilled roughly 80x faster than we did. As we were there, helplessly out of water, she demolished us.

For the next three days, I used a ziplock bag to hold my phone and money. We were staying in a Thai neighborhood, so the festivities were in full swing from the morning to dusk. Everyone got involved, from the youngest kids to the grandparents. We threw water, which symbolizes cleaning and renewal. Many also spread clay on people's faces, which I'm told wards off evil spirits. Some choose to take it up a level, adding ice to the water and tiger balm to the clay. The motos, tuk-tuks, and pickup trucks often circle the block. And even at 10 pm, when the streets are mostly quiet, someone may walk up behind you with a bowl of water to dump down your back.
We set up in front of Tailek's house with a barrel, a hose, buckets, and water guns. In fact, over half the houses on the street were set up with a barrel, a hose, buckets, and water guns. You couldn't make it to the corner dry. A few places set up snacks, beverages, and stereos. And it stayed like that for three days. And forget driving down Khao San Road. Even if it hadn't been closed to cars, there were so many people shooting (iced) water that driving would have been impossible.
For my money, a pickup's the best way to see Songkran.
Adorable. Don't you want to just sling a few liters at them?
This is why you couldn't pay me to ride a moto during Songkran.
Heavy battle.
Pulling out all the stops.
Water from multiple directions.
Matias, Céline, and Petr, with the older couple from across the street. They also danced together, and I later saw Céline teaching the woman how to use her water gun.
Tuk-tuk wheelie. Yeah, it's THAT kind of party.
Petr and his Thai friend, cutting a rug.
Bangkok's finest, hard at work near Khao San Road.
The nights were filled with amazing food. Bee is a great cook, and she's learning how to bake. Ovens aren't popular in most of Asia, so things like homemade banana bread and cookies are a new and wonderful challenge to Bee. Eating them is not too painful either. As seen above, she can cook almost anything. Our Turkish friend Meltem also cooked an amazing meal one night. My day there, Bee decided she wanted a massage. So she called up some friends, and a little after midnight, they turned the living room into a massage parlor. Two hours, 300 baht. That's ten US dollars. Go ahead. Be jealous.
Unfortunately, every New Year celebration must come to an end. I should know, I've seen three come and go already this year. On Saturday it became safe to walk outside with electronics, and on Sunday I caught the early train to the border. The train was less than two dollars, and the truck to the border crossing was less than a dollar. Then, to get from the border to Phnom Penh, I took my first shared taxi to Battambang. I shared the front seat with someone half the way, but still managed to sleep through most of it. The cost? $10 (300 baht). Then I caught the night bus to PP for $11. The moral of the story? It's easier to leave a country after a major festival than to enter one. Also, overland travel in southeast Asia is inherently challenging.
I'll leave you with a short video, to give you an idea about what it's like to take a moto or tuk-tuk during Songkran. Enjoy!