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During a short road trip to Thailand, I discovered a unique side to the country’s colourful culture when I stumbled upon a festival that made me feel right at home.
Every year on Holi, kids would regale in water fights on the street in front of my house. They would smear each other with every colour under the sun and before long, the neighbours couldn't tell their kids apart from the loud lot of youngsters covered with multiple colours.
I was rarely present at these watery festivities. My disdain for colours ensured I stayed cocooned in my home, munching on delicacies that my mother would churn out in her kitchen all morning. But a trip with friends a few years ago took me to another water fight thousands of miles away in Thailand.
This is how it all began. We set out from the bustling capital city of Bangkok to the sacred town of Chiang Mai. Because I enjoy driving, we decided it was best to make it a road trip. We covered roughly 700 km and spent two days in each of the major cities. And our trip coincided with the festival of Songkran.
To the uninitiated, consider Songkran a parallel to Holi in India, sans the colours. I had imagined it to be a festival with Thai kids screaming and splashing around, with water cannons strapped on their backs. But I could not have been more wrong. Songkran is for everyone. And I mean everyone.
Songkran in Thai means to ‘change place’. It marks the passage of the sun from one zodiac into another. In April, the sun leaves Aries and enters Taurus in the period called the Maha Songkran, and on that day starts the Thai New Year. In Thailand, Songkran is a three-day national holiday that takes place between the 13th to 15th of April. However, in some places, the celebrations go on for a week.
The origin story of the festival included water from a different perspective. Locals would collect the water that had been poured over the Buddha statues in various wats (temples) for cleaning. This water would later be used to bless the members of a family. When exactly this simple religious act turned into a country-wide water fight is anybody’s guess, but Songkran festivities envelop every part of the country. And I couldn’t escape the festive fervour or the water — despite my many efforts.
As soon as we left the confines of our hotel, we encountered the mayhem that characterises New Year celebrations in the streets. We travelled to Bangkok’s eponymous Khao San Road, also known as the backpacker district. It is the undisputed centre of modern-day Songkran celebrations.
We saw hundreds of people, young and old, holding cannon-sized water guns and hoses while diligently guarding their water buckets like hawks. I must have made it 100 metres before being drenched from head to toe by a young local boy, who quickly gave me a cheeky smile before screaming Sawasdee pi mai — translating to ‘Happy New Year’.
The next few hours were a blur. From clay to talcum powder, our faces wore a white cast as people smeared each other in an animated display of mirth. Locals and visitors jostled to douse each other with water. April is one of the hottest months in Thailand. Soon, we made our way to Siam Street, drenched from head to toe in the water (and perspiration), for a quick bite of freshly cooked and super fragrant pad thai.
We ended the day with generous servings of the quintessential mango sticky rice, as the revellers slowly retreated to their homes, only to return for round two the following day. But by then, we had already made our way to Chiang Mai.
In ordinary times, I would have been livid. But instead of feeling annoyed, I found myself laughing and grinning from ear to ear. There's something infectious about the sheer joy of Songkran — everyone, it seems, is in on the fun. So we did what was only necessary — we made our way to one of the hawkers on the corner of the street. We bought our own water guns and colourful buckets and armed ourselves for the largest water fight.
Chiang Mai, a city in Northern Thailand, is the polar opposite of Bangkok’s hectic personality. Its Lanna culture, seeped in age-old traditions, competes with modern influences, straddling both quite effortlessly. In the streets of the Old City, we forego our plans to visit Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, the most iconic temple in the region. Another lesson in water duels on the streets felt far too important.
Emulating the experienced locals, we rented tuk-tuks to take us around Nimman Road. Soon enough, we became willing targets for youngsters who stood at the edge of the streets, drenching unassuming travellers in water. We got off our tuk-tuk and exacted revenge in equal measure with the water guns on our backs as a band of revellers took the streets with speakers blasting popular numbers.
Unlike in Bangkok, in Chiang Mai, we witnessed a parade with men and women dressed in colourful clothing and traditional Thai costumes. They also carried flowers and statues of the Buddha. While we couldn't partake in these rituals, a local told us about another popular tradition in the northern province. People carry buckets of dirt to the temples to replace the earth that was carried away by their feet over the last year. How lovely!
The revelry in Chiang Mai had the same camaraderie as in Bangkok. In the evening, we joined a band of partygoers and set off on foot for a cold beer and traditional Thai meal. Here in northern Thailand, the most popular dish is khao soi, a hearty bowl of rich curry, topped off with fried egg noodles. The fragrance of the dish was tempting enough, and we hungrily devoured all of it. We downed a few beers as we exchanged stories about the equally exciting festival of colours back home.
The stars filled the clear skies and we made our way to the hotel. I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror, smeared with white talcum powder, and grinned once again. I had come to Thailand for culture, and unlike the white powder on my face, Songkran had given me a bucket full of colourful memories that water would not wash away.
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