Jumping in Puddles

A few days ago I was in Mae Hong Son (North-western Thailand), and there was a wicked thunderstorm. It was the kind of storm where the rain gets horizontal at times because the wind is so strong, and the rain comes down in such torrents that the ground appears to be dancing.

I was walking back from a hike when it began to lightly rain, and as I got back to the guesthouse and was about to shower the rain started pounding the tin roof so hard it sounded like machine-gun fire raining down from heaven. Having nothing better to do, I decided to put on my bathing suit and head out into it. At first it felt good just to feel the cool water spalshing onto my face and body and within a minute I was soaked through. I spread my arms out, threw my head back and just smiled up at the sky, feeling as free as Andy Dufresne when he finally escapes from the shit-filled sewers of Shawshank. As I stood in the middle of the street I noticed the water pooling on one side of the street as it flowed down the hill. I sauntered over to where the water was running and felt it rush over the tops of my feet up to my ankles. I tentatively took a small hop... and burst out laughing as a child does upon discovering something so joyful that he cannot contain his mirth. I quickly took as big a jump as I could and landed with all my might into the water, splashing water up onto my bathing suit and chest. I laughed as a grandfather does when he watches his grandson do something his own son did years ago that frustrated him as a father, but delights him as a grandfather: one of those deep belly laughs that sounds like someone has lost their common sense. I continued to jump in the puddles for a while, every time unable to conceal my merriment - I must have looked quite the sight to the locals as I stood in the pounding rain in my bathing suit in the middle of the road jumping up and down while laughing hysterically. This only added to the enjoyment, of course.

After this experience I tried to remember when the last time I played in the rain was, and I can recall it - August of 2003, just before going to univeristy. Can you believe that? Six and a half years of rainfall wasted without enjoying it - in fact, probably wishing it away everytime I got caught in it. Next time I'm home in Canada and a good rainfall comes I hope I remember to get out there and jump in the puddles. Give it a try.

How to enjoy yourself, Thai style

I am currently in Chang Mai, Northern Thailand, for Sangkron. Sankgron is the Thai new year (April 13-15th) celebration. Officially it's three days, but unofficially it's more like a week. As it occurs at the hottest time in the Thai year, the Thai people decided to celebrate their new year with a massive water festival. I arrived yesterday morning and quickly bought a water gun (super soaker style) to fight back against the constant onslaught of guns, buckets and myriad other contraptions designed to administer water onto any and all passersby. Pick-up trucks are turned into water assault machines, with huge pails of water and numerous people standing in the back of the trucks showering water onto everyone on the street, while the people on the street fire at one another as well as the people on the trucks. Even people on motorbikes and scooters aren't free from the onslaught - everyone is soaked and loving it.

This was probably my greatest realization of the day - that the Thai people can completely forget their egos and enjoy themselves to the utmost. It doesn't matter if someone gets water in the eye, or an excessive amount of cold water poured down their back - they may shout in surprise - but they turn with a smile on their face and spray you back. I didn't see anyone angry or abusive during the festivities. Foam put directly into ones mouth? No problem! Someone's sunglasses flew off from the stream of water and broke? HAPPY NEW YEAR!! Your gun is empty? Here, take some of my water! Of course, there is some etiquette. For instance, food is generally off limits, and when someone is opening their waterproof pouch (they hand them out for phones, money and cameras) they are (usually) left alone. Aside from that, no one is safe - old women or young children are fair game - and yes, there is something a little sick in spraying an 80 year-old toothless grandmother with a water gun, but you forget that after she throws an ice-cold bucket of water down your back!

What I love most about this event is the harmony that exists within the water warfare. I'm not confident that the city of Toronto could have such an event without a few fights breaking out due to bruised egos and male pride. Of course, a water festival of this magnitude wouldn't happen in Canada because the environmentalists would be up in arms over the egregious waste of water. Thankfully, the Thai people know how to have fun - if only for a few days a year (but I have a feeling it's many more).

The simple things

A few days ago I was on a public bus in Java, Indonesia, for just over five hours. This is a bus that travels between major cities, but has its doors open at all times (literally) for people to wave it down and jump on, or tell the "door man", for lack of a better word, whenever they want to jump off. He makes a shrill whistle (by the third hour I was able to sleep through it), and the driver knows someone wants off, and thus pulls over. FYI - there are two doors, with the door man controlling the back of the bus - most people get on and off via the back door - and the driver controlling the front door. Once the passenger is on or off the bus, the door man shouts the Indonesian equivalent of "go" and the driver continues. There is also a "fare guy" who walks up and down collecting the fare, which is dependent on the distance you want to travel. All the while, people selling goods will jump on and off, and even local musicians jump on with their guitar, play a few songs and collect a few rupiah from the passengers. As a result of this regular stopping and starting, what should be a 3 1/2 hour bus ride turns into just over 5 hours. That's sounds like a complaint, but it's not - I could have taken a shuttle bus that would have been direct, but where's the fun in that? The people who take shuttle buses pay twice the price, and when travelling, I feel there is an inverse correlation between how much money someone spends and how interesting they are. On the local bus you can walk on with your cigarette, live animal, or several small children all for one fare, provided they all sit on your lap. You can't get that on the shuttle buses.

Anyways, as I was on the bus I had to marvel at the order and precision in what could be seen as a constantly chaotic jumbling of passengers - some a few blocks, some several hundred kilometres. I couldn't help but smile as I looked around at the faces, many missing teeth and looking like life's been rough, but all quick to smile as they make eye contact with me. Like in Malaysia, nearly everyone smiles from ear to ear a friendly, genuine smile, whether they are missing teeth or not - more often the former (I feel there could be another correlation there - the more teeth one is missing the more interesting they are... Any thoughts?). It is these types of experiences that I hope to remember long after I've left these countries - they are the moments that cannot be captured by a camera, but tell more about a country than any picture can. Often when I tell people of my travels at home I tell them of the "highlights", ie. climbing Mount Kinabalu, seeing orangutans, etc, but simple things like bus rides can be even more remarkable in the day-to-day life of a traveller.