Songkran Festival: Splashing in the New Year

Some countries have day or week long fireworks displays while others have long and loud alcohol fueled dance parties. Some focus on family and community while others focus on spirituality and renewal of the self. But nowhere other than SE Asia does the New Year involve donning your gaudiest floral attire, stocking up on plastic guns and taking to the streets to shoot and douse strangers with water. 

What could be more fun than flowered shirts, bubbles, water guns?

April 13-15 is the traditional Thai New Year, though January 1 is the official day in keeping with the international calendars. The days are national holidays and many businesses are closed and people often travel to see families. Though it may seem like days of frivolity created to alleviate the madness created by the summer heat--everyday is nearly 40/100 degrees--there are meaningful roots to be found in the splashing.

Stephen in battle mode

 

As far as I can tell from my brief internet research, in the past the day was used to clean Buddha statues. The statues were sometimes brought around the towns and villages and people would splash water on them and the collected "blessed" water from the statue cleaning was poured on elders and family to symbolize washing away the past and giving blessings for the next year.

In addition to the buckets of ice cold water, people will also stop to rub some talc powder mixed with water onto your face. This is symbolic of the chalk used by monks to mark their blessings when you go to the temple to make merit.

Many add color to their blessing goop

Now, anyone who steps outside is fair game for throwing water on, whether on a motorcycle, tuk-tuk or just walking around. Some people, foreigners included, will travel or stay home to avoid the "fun". We wanted the full experience, so joined the local Hash Harriers-- a group of ex-pats who torture themselves each week with long afternoon runs followed by copious amounts of beer and food. After maintaining our post at the Coffee Love Bar and shooting countless children, teens, and elders, we set off for a short walk around the town, engaging in water fights with everyone and occasionally stopping at the beer truck for a refreshment. Unfortunately, this was NOT a typical summer day. It was cool and rainy.

Taking it to the streets

Don't get me wrong. People still go to the temple to make merit and give alms to the monks. People pay respect to their families on this day and use it as a time to reflect on the past and make goals for the coming year. Some lament that the once very traditional day has evolved into just a day of play with the meaning taken out of the equation--not to mention some of the negative consequences related to drinking and getting splashed in the face while driving. However, what I experienced on this day was lovely community spirit. Regardless of age or class, everyone played together as equals, sharing their water with those whose guns were empty. Everyone seemed heartfelt in their "Happy New Years" and best of all, everyone got to shed the chains of adult responsibility and for a few blessed hours, be a kid again.

Everyone especially loved shooting the giant foreigner

Before my hair and eyes were matted with water and colored powder

 

The gun on the left only made it a few rounds

 

I wish I had dressed more fashionably like the teens

 

 

 

Mom and daughter squad

 

Many of the wimpier foreigners stayed "dry" inside the bar

 

guarding the powder for sale

 

Steve and  Mick talk strategy

 

older women and children are fair game

 

Bubble machine!!!

 

quick stop at the beer truck

 

 

Drug Run

This kid not good at sports? Shocking!

As a kid, I was one of the only few in the Y swimming classes to never move beyond the “minnow” group to the coveted cool kid group of "dolphins" or "sharks". In gymnastics, when we did backbends, I was the one who, instead of looking like a leotard clad rainbow, looked like a coffee table. In junior high, I was a benchwarmer for the “C” team of girls’ basketball (this was before schools tried making the distinction less obvious by using colors and random nouns). I was the only 7^th grader who tried out for cheerleading to not be picked. In high school, the ever-stressed, ever-pushed over Mr. Drake graciously let me onto the show choir team despite by near inability to even master basic jazz hands. All I heard growing up was that I lacked the basic endurance, flexibility, skill, and grace needed to do anything remotely athletic. I’m not sure I would have qualified to even be a ball girl or water bearer.

Though I’ve consistently been a train wreck at sports, I like exercise. I’ve endured ridicule in American and foreign gyms as I’ve tried to keep up in that month’s flavor of dance-meets-aerobics-meets-torture class. I’ve joined gyms and hamstered it out on the treadmill (ellipticals are too elusive) and done my time on the weight circuits. And why? One reason is to combat the effects of my love of food. But two, I like the high you get when you reach the “zone”, that blissful moment where you feel you could keep going forever. If you are the type that enjoys mind-altering substances, exercise is a natural and safe dealer. And for me, the dealer has come lately in the form of outdoor running/jogging.  I use "running/jogging" as a term because there doesn't seem to be any definitive difference between the two and I don't want to be pretentious by saying "running" when I'm actually doing what real "runners" would call "jogging".  And if I am really "running" and not "jogging", I want my street cred.

track behind the house I lived in in Nanjing, China

I started running/jogging in China when I had a track in my backyard (a very, very rare thing in a huge city!). But I often gave up before getting the high. Running around in small circles was too close to a physical reflection of my current life, not to mention the toxic fumes from the construction site next door. In Songkhla, I started running/jogging up and down the beach road but couldn’t seem to push myself past a certain point. I would be going along not even particularly tired, and something in my head would say, “Ahh, just stop. Just stop kidding yourself.” And I would stop and walk home feeling like I had lived up to my potential.

But then I think I woke up one day and said "I'm going to do this" though I can't remember which day or consciously having the thought. Or clearly defining what "this" was. I started off with a small distance and did that four or five times until it was easy, and then I went a bit further until that new distance felt easy. As of now, I'm able to run/jog about 8-9km in an hour.  These are the things that worked for me. I write them here more for myself for the inevitable time when the high of the high wears off and I need to get back on track.

First goal was to reach here and now this is where I feel I'm just warming up

1. The most important change I made was changing my route. I used to run up and then back down a busy beach road that had a zillion motorbikes and no change in scenery. Also backtracking is something that always annoys me in any situation. So my new morning route goes along the quieter part of the beach road, past a dozen seafood restaurants that are setting up for the day, past a remote control aircraft club, through a quiet forest full of cranes and butterflies, past an abandoned campground where all the bungalows look like KKK hats, past a water fountain and strange sculptures, along a street full of small carts selling soup and fried donuts, and to the market where I can by fresh meat, veggies, and fruit for the day. Varied, mostly quiet, and purposeful.

2.  I had to stop stopping because as it turns out, after the initial difficult 5-10 minutes, it actually gets easier. Strange. It surprises and delights me every time.

3. It's no secret I have abysmal posture. So focusing on standing straight, taking in and letting out breaths in a steady rhythm makes everything less painful. The focus on breathing and keeping my shoulders back also puts me in a meditative state in which I can block out the negative thoughts that usually make me want to stop.

4. I bought a nice sports bra.

It's not a huge accomplishment; I haven't lost any weight or won any awards and it could potentially lead to ruined knees and the disintegration of other bones. But I feel so energized--high--and refreshed after I wash off all the sweat, and at night, sleep is no enemy. And who knows? Maybe when I get to Dublin this summer, I'll put on a sweater, tape a number to it, and take my chances competing among others who are out to get a fix.

 

Part of the route goes past....

the sea and view of Cat and Rat Islands

bikers, other runners, and stray dogs

lady setting up souvenir stands

Cat and Rat statues

Seaside restaurants. Most of them have seating on the beach

spirit tree

It's best to let sleeping dogs like and just run around them



Pacman Statue

near the mini forest

over the bridge

part of the body of Nga, the serpent dragon that lives underground

The quiet, quiet outdoors. No traffic, only the sounds of birds and the wind.

Butterflies are everywhere here!!

These bungalows always make me think of KKK hats.

This club always has a smile and a hello for me as I pass

Best Movies of 2012

As I've lamented many a time, I live in a place where I must travel by van for an hour to go to a cinema. This cinema usually, but not always, has one English language movie showing. Typically these are the big blockbuster action or cartoon movies. Dvds other than porn are difficult to find. So to feed my cinophilia, I do what any internet user in my situation would do, download for free. I've been here about a year  now and in that time have watched about 100 movies. I try to stay up with current releases but it's more difficult to acquire recent releases than older ones. I've managed to see quite few of the 2012 movies with the exception of the ones I want to see the most such as "Cloud Atlas", "The Master", "Life of Pi", "Flight", and "Zero Dark Thirty". So here are the faves of the ones I've seen. In no particular order.

Beasts of the Southern Wild
Tabloid
Looper
The Queen of Versailles
The Comedy
Saftey Not Guaranteed
Argo
Being Flynn
Moonrise Kingdom

(Hyacinth) Bucket List

 

"Keeping Up Appearances" is a British comedy about a middle class woman, Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced by her as 'Bouquet'), who yearns for a higher social status and seizes every opportunity to climb the social ladder, usually with a lot of mishaps along the way. In honor of her, this is my Bucket List of classy things I'd like to do.

1. Have dinner at Noma in Denmark.
2. Fly first class to get there.
3. Drink tea at Makbari Tea Plantation in Darjeeling, India.
4. Enter a cat in the Supreme Championship show.
5. See an opera at Teatro Massimo in Palermo.
6. Stay at a penthouse suite in Geneva.
7. Have a kobe beef barbecue.
8 Go on a champagne hot air balloon trip in France.
9. Have lunch at Thornbury Castle.
10. Drink wine recovered from a sunken ship.

Ah, who I am kidding? I feel guilty if I spend more than $20 on a meal....but it was fun to think about.

The Ultimate Pinky Swear

"On whom should I lean, if not on you? My wary mind turns for refreshment to the thought of you
as a dusty traveller might sink onto a soft and grassy bank. "  --Gustave Flaubert

We've done everything backwards. Moved in together before we were even dating. Moved to another country together before we were even serious. Went to many a honeymoon destination before we were even engaged. It went something like this:

Met in Istanbul.

One of the first photos of us. Not sure how much we really liked each other at this stage.

Got to know each other in Poland. 

He brought me to my first castle!!

Got serious in China.

Got engaged in Malaysia. Planned  a wedding in Thailand. 

And if all goes as planned, I will be able to say after the summer next year, that we got married in Ireland.

People's lives are  comprised of a series of "Before and After's". Before I went to college and After. Before I had children and After. Before my loved one died and After. Until I met S, my biggest Before and Afters were losing my Dad and moving abroad. For years, I suffered the culture shock and explored the unknown completely alone. I became so comfortable and secure in my independence that I assumed I wouldn't have an "Eat Pray Love" kind of ending to my story. But now it's difficult at times to even remember the Before S.

Actually, I'd always been secretly resigned to never getting married, having never seen a happy one in action on a daily basis. While other girls were fantasizing about walking down flower strewn aisles in princess dresses, I just wanted to be frolicking on a prairie like Laura Ingalls.
 

But there I was in a cheap hostel in Penang, Malaysia, the French guys next door soundly sleeping after a long night session on the bongos, when S asked. And it seemed the most natural, logical, and exciting thing to say, "Yeah, let's."

Another thing I never figured was that being engaged would feel different than "having a boyfriend". I find myself being more protective of and nurturing in this relationship. Even though I know divorce is always an option, and I can leave anytime, I'm invested as if they're not options. I guess it's akin to how a long time renter feels when deciding to buy a house, no?

Protective and nurturing require a bit of selflessness and work. A marriage is a full on English garden, not some Menard's houseplant. I've had to accept that there can be more than one way to hang clothes and wash dishes, that it's polite to listen to synopses of stories involving things about which I'm completely clueless (football, Boardwalk Empire), that it's not all about me anymore.

Learning pitch & putt wasn't as horrible as I expected

Because all that work yields some lovely stuff. If I listen, then later, I have someone to listen to my ramblings. If I cook a nice meal, someone will clean it up after, albeit in a different way than I would have. If I'm supportive, kind, and affectionate, I get the same in return. Not to mention the great stuff like hugs, long talks, laughter, capers, journeys to the unknown. And the best, having one person who knows you completely and still likes you anyway and being that person for another. I know it sounds crazy, self-absorbed, and a wee bit naive, but it's all been a revelation.

We may not have the altruism of George and Mary Bailey, the youthful gaiety of Jack and Rose, the strategic minds of Anthony and Cleopatra, or the musical prowess of Simba and Nala. We don't complete each other. But I can honestly say, we completely love each other.