Songkran Part 2 (4-15)

When I woke up Friday morning, the bedroom was full of a sweet-smelling flower. I couldn’t figure out where it came from, as I’d left my jasmine garlands at school. I had actually noticed the scent Thursday night but was still associating it with the jasmine garlands we were given at school. When I out to close the windows before leaving Friday morning, I realized that the scent came from the neighbor’s flowering tree that is outside the bedroom window. The flowers are short-lived and were pretty much gone on Monday.


Songkran (the lunar new year and, in Thailand, a water festival) was on Friday. I went to the village to celebrate the holiday with Khun Toy and friends. My first Songkran experience of the day was at the shop where I used to buy bus tickets. I was waiting there for Khun Toy, and the man came out and poured water on my hands for Songkran. I was touched that he made the special effort to do that for me.

Friday afternoon Khun Toy and I went to the wat to show respect to the monks and old people (over 60). Khun Dakom had mentioned the possibility of my being included among the old folks, as I was two and three years ago. (Last year we went to Ban Chiang.) I was happy that no one else mentioned that, as I realized that I really wanted to pour water on the hands of all the old folks, most of whom I know, to show my respect of them.

After the abbot spoke to open the ceremony, the old folks stared the pouring of water. First, the Buddha images were splashed to clean and bless them. For Songkran, the old Buddhas are brought out to be cleaned.

Next the monks were shown respect by pouring water into their hands. Then the old folks were honored the same way or by pouring water on their shoulder. I poured water in their hands and on the shoulders of those I know well. Many people spoke to me and splashed some water on me, as well. I greeted each with a “sawadee-ka.” After several such greetings, it came to me that “sawadee” is used for both greeting and leaving; thus I was really saying “good-bye” to the folks as I was greeting them. My intention had been to do this as a “good-bye” to them. Of course, they don’t know that I am leaving the country, but I do, and I was glad to have this opportunity to say “good-bye” to them in this way. Another step of closure.

As I was walking out, several other people came to me and poured water on me. It was really nice. I did not know many of them, but they knew me. I suppose some were parents of students.

After we finished, Khun Toy stopped to show respect to her parents’ grave markers on the entrance to the wat. Then we started on the rounds to show respect to several old   folks. The first stop was her uncle and aunt.

Then we stopped at three other homes of people I don’t know. There was a small group gathered at each to show respect to the elder and then to have fun splashing water on everyone.

Children were standing beside the street in several places, ready to shoot or throw water on passers-by.

Saturday morning we went to the wat to feed the monks and eat breakfast. Later we went to the other wat. There were a few activities to raise money for the wat. We contributed to a few of the activities: a raffle in which I won a bottle of oil, which I gave to Khun Toy since I won’t be needing it; a general donation; and putting coins in a hundred bowls for good luck. When we arrived, we were the first ones to sit down. We waited half an hour till the monks came in. After a brief prayer, they were given their lunch trays, and we waited while they ate. Then the trays were brought to the rest of us. So we ate breakfast at one wat and lunch at another. I was wondering why we were there, as we didn’t take food for the lunch. Then Khun Toy commented on the tamboon, and I realized that’s why we were there: to make merit. Twice in the same day.

After leaving the wat, we stopped at the school’s fish pond. Several men were fishing, and a few women were cutting up the fish. People, including us, left with bags of fish.














In the afternoon we got ready for a big dinner, as the relatives from Bangkok who came for Songkran were coming for dinner. My contribution was rubbing leaves for Khun Toy’s special leaf soup. That’s how the broth gets green: I rubbed and rubbed and squeezed to get the chlorophyll from the leaves. Khun Toy had already prepared other bunches of cut up leaves. I was also allowed to peel the small onions for the soup. Then I was sent to relax. I was glad she let me do a couple tasks to help her.

Along with the soup, the dinner featured shrimp and squid the relatives had brought from Bangkok. Khun Dakom said it is better than those purchased locally because it is fresh. It was all so delicious that I ate way too much. The soup was especially delicious, and I could hardly stop eating it, which, of course, everyone noticed. I told them it was so delicious because an American had rubbed and squeezed the leaves.

The next part of the weekend plan was changed. The mother-in-law of Khun Toy’s brother in Ban Chiang died and they and Khun Suwit and Khun Teamjan were leaving for the funeral Sunday morning. I was, of course, invited to go along, but I had my students coming on Monday and Tuesday and I had a lot to do to get ready to leave. So I decided to come home. The school was having a tamboon on Sunday, but I decided not to go. I considered asking Khun Aporn to take me to the event and then to the bus, which she would have been happy to do, but I didn’t feel like waiting much of the day. If I were there, I could have greeted more teachers, but it would not have been a good time to chat with my friends, as they were busy with the events. So I stuck with my decision to return home.

After breakfast, we headed out on our separate ways. I had a moment of regret that I couldn’t go with them. But I also realized that the trip would entail two long days in the car and a night and day of funeral activities. So the main reason to have gone would have been to hang out with my friends longer. On the other hand, once I got home, I was really glad to be home and have time to myself and time to do things I needed to do here.

In the afternoon, I ventured to Big C to pick up a few things I needed. While waiting for a songtaew, which were scarce because of the holiday, I watched the near-by water activity. Pick-ups full of people and barrels of water came down the street. A young woman near the corner was throwing buckets of water on passing trucks, and they threw water or hosed her.





On the road into the shopping area, trucks of people were lined up to throw water. While I was figuring out how to get where I wanted to go without encountering too much water, I got sprayed in the back. I was surprised. I turned around to see who had done that, and there was a truck load of boys. I could imagine them sitting there wondering if they should shoot the old foreign woman or not. One did. When I looked at him, he smiled and waved, and I returned his smile. It’s all for fun, and it was really hot; so the water was nice and clothes dried quickly. When I was waiting for a songtaew to go home, I was shot at, too. The aim was to hit my plastic bag, which I thought was considerate. Again, we shared smiles. When a songtaew didn’t come for fifteen minutes, I decided to walk until one came. On the main road, I passed a small group of girls that included a couple former students. One came to me and poured water on my back. We laughed and smiled.

I was glad to have both the village and city experiences for my last—the fifth—Songkran. In the village, it’s mostly children who throw water from the street outside their homes. There were a few trucks going around. In the city, it’s mostly adolescents and young adults who drive around in trucks to throw water.

Mysteries:
I’ve transplanted several new banana trees that the old one produced. Two are on the side of the house where there is a neighbor across the fence. I put the second one there a few weeks ago, and it was doing well. Then one evening when I went to water it, it wasn’t there. I looked and couldn’t see it. I looked again the next day, and it wasn’t there and there was no sign of it. On the weekend, the woman across the fence told me that it wasn’t a good place for the tree because it was under the tree in her yard. I guess she sent someone over the fence to dig it up. I hope they planted it somewhere in their yard.

Sunday morning my watch wasn’t on the table in Khun Dakom’s guest house where I always put it at night. So I thought I must have taken it off in the house, but it wasn’t there. I asked Khun Toy for the guest house keys so I could look around to find my watch. It wasn’t on the floor or the table. I looked again in my things in the house and it wasn’t there. While I was taking a shower, I remembered the rat I’d seen last month and wondered if the rat wanted the watch. Khun Dakom went to the guest house with me. When we got there, he said he thought maybe the big rat (It’s actually a normal-sized rat, but Thai language uses the same word for rat and mouse, and I’ve explained that rats are big and mice are small.) took it. We looked more thoroughly and found it on the floor behind the headboard. The band was chewed, but at least I found it.