Wet and wild

The Swedish guy I met just a few minutes earlier leaned over to yell into my ear while we stood in the heart of the noisy crowd.

"Look at that girl smoking a cigarette, standing there on the sidewalk. How the hell is she completely dry? We need to get her."

It was a great observation. I hadn't seen a dry body in the two hours I had been celebrating the Thai New Year off Khao Sarn Road in Bangkok. Buckets of water were being tossed into the sky. If you weren't carrying a watergun, you were an anomaly. How this girl managed to stay dry was quite a mystery. I ran up to one of the German guys I had been hanging out with. He had been nailing everyone all night with the most powerful watergun I'd ever seen. I brought the girl standing in front of the Burger King to his attention. An evil smile formed across his face.

"I'm going to get into position to take pictures" I said, running to the middle of the street. "Start counting down from ten."

The shot couldn't have been more perfect. The girl's cigarette lit out. Her dry clothes were now dripping. Everyone who witnessed this broke out into uncontrollable laughter. The girl paused for a few seconds, trying to register what just happened, then ran toward her attacker, who was high-fiving his friends. She yelled something I couldn't hear, then slapped him across the face and hit him in the arm. She then moved back to her original spot and attempted to smoke her cigarette without realizing it was just as drenched as she was. She was not happy. We couldn't stop laughing.

"Man, I'm sorry you got slapped," I said to my German friend. "I didn't think anyone was allowed to get mad for getting sprayed."

"It's okay," he said. "That was totally worth it. Did you see her face? Let me see the pictures." He then answered a call on his cell phone, which was wrapped in a condom to keep it dry. Nothing and no one was safe during this crazy celebration.

***

The day started a bit calmer. I woke in an unfamiliar apartment, trying to collect my thoughts. It usually takes me a few seconds to realize what city or country I'm in when I wake each morning since I'm traveling around the world at the speed of light. I remembered Neung, a sweet Thai girl I had met in Bali a couple weeks prior, had picked me up at the Bangkok airport the night before and offered to have me crash at her place while she slept over at her friend's apartment.

I heard a knock at the door and looked at the clock. It was 10:30. I had slept 10 straight hours with no hint of waking up naturally anytime soon. It was Neung, and her father was waiting downstairs to drive us to the historic sites around the city. These were some of the most generous people I had met in all my travels.

I apologized for not being awake and rushed as best I could to get ready. I sat in the passenger seat next to Neung's father, who spoke little English but smiled often. I thanked him for his patience and for taking the time to show me around. We visited the Grand Palace and Wat Pho, featuring a 150-foot long statue of Buddha lying on his side.

We then got dropped off at Neung's friend's parents' house -- a peaceful place packed with mango trees alongside a set of canals. A group of six of us gathered for a picnic of grilled shrimp and squid. I packed my stomach full, went for a rowboat ride along the canals, and napped under the mango trees.

I thanked everyone for their generosity and for showing me a great time on the Thai New Year - called Songkran - and hitched a ride from Neung's friend to a guesthouse I had booked for two nights right in the heart of the festival. I watched out the window at the little kids and adults dancing in the streets, soaking cars and people on motorcycles. It was good, clean fun. Everyone was laughing.

By the time I completed my five-minute walk from the car to my guesthouse, my face and hair were covered in white powder, and my clothes were dripping onto the floor at the reception desk.

"Happy Songkran," the woman at the desk said with a smile. It was a complete coincidence that the three-day holiday coincided with my three-day stay in Bangkok.

"Yeah, I think I came at the perfect time," I said.

I threw my stuff on the floor of my tiny room, wrapped my camera in a plastic bag, filled up the watergun I had bought in preparation the night before, and walked out into the middle of the world's largest water fight.