Ko Pha-Ngan, Songkran, Surat Thani
In formulating, planning, and daydreaming about my adventures in Thailand, I consciously made a mental list of different things that I wanted to do, accomplish, and develop. I would call this past weekend an ideal one, as it was spent “doing” many things that I have been wishing to do. I danced on the beach, sang on the beach, did yoga on the beach, snorkeled, swam in the waves (again), kayaked, and best of all—went on the craziest jungle hike of my life.
Faren and I had a long weekend to get away, as it was the Buddhist New Year. In Thailand, the people call it “Songkran” and celebrate it with huge water wars on about every street in the country. Having the chance to celebrate Songkran in Thailand is very special. The term "water fight" used to make me think of small water pistols, super soakers, and maybe some water balloons. But after experiencing a Songkran water fight, this term has a whole new meaning. Whole cities are involved in the fun. Families and friends cram as many people as possible into the back of pick-up trucks, cruising around town armed with gallons of water, using every kind of means to douse the passengers in the next car and the passerby’s on the sidewalk. Others will set up camp on the street with a bucket the size of a walk-in closet. Some have hoses, some have guns. To add to the madness, everyone throws talcum powder around, smearing it all over their cheeks like war paint. In essence, Songkran was the biggest party I have ever attended.
It was a difficult decision of where to spend the holiday weekend. Bangkok is known for the craziness and utter chaos (in a good way) on the New Year, and to make the city even more enticing, we could have tagged along with three of our friends from Surat, who were driving up and staying in a house. And these guys really know how to have a good time. However, Faren and I, being the cautious women that we are, researched safety threats. Since there was heightened security in Bangkok for Songkran, we decided to stick with our original plan and retreat to our favorite island in the whole world, Ko Phangan. Thankfully, Bangkok survived the past week with no instances of bombs or notable shootings (which is more than I can say for my own country).
Upon disembarking the ferry and embarking upon Ko Phangan, Faren and I ran for the nearest tuk-tuk (technically a Song-thaew, which I explained in the previous post, but everyone refers to them as tuk-tuks in this region). We could see the full-blown water fight was just meters away in the small village of Thongsala, and we wanted to avoid the buckets of water from stragglers as much as possible while we still had our backpacks. This attempt was in vain. Riding through the streets, the tuk-tuk and all of its passengers were drenched with buckets, hoses, and waterguns. I felt like I was thrown into some kind of jovial war without any form of self-defense. It is known by all Thai people and most of the farrang that if you are going to venture outside on Songkran, even if for just a moment, anything you don’t want soaking wet should be kept at home. So, I had safely tucked away my camera, phone, and iPod in a plastic bag. And before we had made it to the safety of our hotel, in the spirit of the holiday, the rain came down. Sheets of tropical rain with no warning. If you think for one moment that this sounds cold, don’t. Of course, dripping clothing is not too comfortable. But the heat is so intense that, apart from the initial surprise from a bucket of water and a torrent of rain, everyone is happy to be drenched in water.
The first night on Ko Phangan we spent at Haad Rin, dancing and drinking on the beach. Late into the night, there were still some people on the hunt with waterguns and buckets in hand. After applying a little bit of makeup for the first time in days, we ventured out onto the little dirt street in search of a happening bar. Within 2 minutes, I was squirted right in the face by a boy with a supersoaker-like water gun. Figures. Faren and I had a few other moments where we were forced to run the other direction to avoid the streams of water quickly approaching. After taking refuge in a bar, we befriended some nice Irish folk and spent the rest of the night drinking and dancing on the beach with our new buddies.
The next day, we ventured from the South end of the island to a secluded beach on the North end, aptly named Coconut Beach. Coconut Beach is one of those rare places where holiday makers will come for a day or two, and subsequently cannot help but extend their trip for weeks. We witnessed this happen to almost all of the people whom we met. On the surface, it does not seem like there is a whole lot going on. But somehow, mysteriously enough, you can never get bored. Faren and I originally planned to come for one night, but stayed for the rest of our long weekend, a total of three nights. In order to get there, you have to travel quite a distance on a rocky, hilly, dirt road. The water is clear and the white-sand beach is lined with palm trees and hammocks. To add to the enchanting atmosphere, the Thai people who ran our hotel (actually just a group of bungalows on the beach, above picture shows where we eat all our meals at the hotel) showed us the “true” Thai hospitality for which Thailand is famous. For those three days, it felt like we were in our own little colony on the beach. Everyone staying in those bungalows got to know one another. We shared stories of our travels with people from England and Australia. We sang along to the guitar with people from Sweden and Austria. We ate with the Thais and the Canadians. It was perfect.
Coconut Beach is also home to the most creative and charming bar I’ve ever seen, built right into the rocks on the beach (see picture at right). It was very small and lit with strings of lights (picture below) until the power was shut off every night at midnight, at which point candle light illuminated the area. This was a place for gathering, drinking, talking, singing, and star gazing.
Nearby to Coconut Beach is a getaway that is reachable “only” by boat. It is called Bottle Beach. Faren and I decided that we would use our hotel’s kayak to get there. Armed with a real kayak paddle and a canoe paddle, we launched the boat with quite difficulty (I guess we aren’t as strong as we’d like to think) and were off. Immediately, we knew that the wind was going to be a problem. We were paddling against a very strong current. But this did not deter us for a moment. Along the way, we found some great snorkeling. My years of boating experience came to use when I was able to securely tie off our canoe to a seemingly impossible rocky cliff, and we leisurely snorkeled without fear of losing the kayak and having to swim back to Coconut Beach. Once our noses were completely filled with salt water (this is the problem with cheap snorkels), we continued on our journey, only to find that the current had become stronger. But, we kept paddling! We still made fairly good distance, and after an hour with no Bottle Beach in site, we were desperate. Faren jumped out of the kayak and tried to help my paddling by giving it a hard shove every few minutes. This lasted for about 15 or 20 minutes. We kept looking to the next bend in the coast, and hoping that our destination would come in sight once we rounded that corner. Eventually, tired and hungry, we had to give up. So instead, we both laid down across the kayak and let the current carry us all the way back to Coconut Beach. Although we did not get to see Bottle Beach that day, we did have a fun adventure, see some great snorkeling, and get in a good arm workout!
Longing for a good hike, Faren and I decided to try to reach Bottle Beach once again. Most tourists will simply take a longboat, but we were determined to get there on our own. Despite warnings of the difficulty and length of the hike, and the opinions of others that we should not try to hike to Bottle Beach at all, we were not dissuaded. This turned out to be a very good thing, as it was the best, wildest, most difficult and most fun hike that either Faren or I have ever been on. We scaled rocks above the rocky shoreline, we climbed on the rocky shoreline itself, we slid down hills, we used tree roots for footing when climbing up the walls of the jungle, we got attacked and bitten by big red ants, we even got lost from the trail. All in the sweltering heat of midday. The trail was not really even a trail at all. At times it was almost impossible to know which direction we were to go next, and the only thing that made it possible was the bottles marking the way. At (almost) every twist and turn there was some kind of empty water bottle securely stuck on a tree branch, pointing us in the right direction. As we downed every last drop from the water bottles in our daypack, we contributed to the effort. I found myself wandering whether the name, “Bottle Beach,” or the trail markers came first.
After some scary instances on the rocky cliffs next to the shore, and finally finding our way back to the bottles, we made it all the way to our destination. Both Faren and I had moments where we could not help but feel as if we were doomed. Either we were going to fall and get banged up pretty badly, we were going to have turn back, or we were going to have to wave our arms wildly at one of the passing longboats full of tourists. There were a few times where we were stuck on the rocky coast and it seemed as if our only way out was to swim, which would have not been good for my camera as it is not waterproof like my cousin’s. But we never had to swim and we never had to seek help from the passing boats. It was quite an accomplishment when we came walking out of the jungle, looked back at the looming mountain behind us, and knowing that we had finally made it. Every person we talked to were in awe that these two girls had just stumbled out of the jungle and onto their beach. Needless to say, we took a longboat to get back to Coconut Beach :)
It was difficult to leave our vacation haven, but both of us had to get back to work on Wednesday. Through networking, I landed a temporary teaching job (which is quite difficult to get since most require you to sign a one-year contract) in Surat Thani and my first day was Wednesday, which was very exciting for me. I have two classes, two hours each, and my students range from ages 6 to 27. Most English teachers in Thailand do not speak any Thai. In this case, my students’ previous teacher is a Native English speaker who grew up in New York, but, he is Thai and he can speak Thai. So, they were a bit nervous to have a non-Thai speaking young white woman as a teacher. All in all, I found my students to be very sweet, I loved teaching them, and I am looking forward to developing relationships with them as they become more comfortable with their “farrang” teacher. And after just one day, I can already see that it will be a very rich and rewarding experience.
In other news, one of my Thai friends helped me to find a used guitar for only 500 baht! (about $15 USD) I had seen plenty of guitars around, but they were always at least 2000-3000 baht, so I was very lucky to have someone native who could take me to the right place and help me get the right price. Not surprisingly, white people are often charged “tourist” prices, unless you can convey to the vendor that you are a poor English teacher—not a tourist. I had originally planned to bring my own guitar on my travels, but at the last second, right before I left for the airport, I decided that it was going to be too heavy to schlep. And since it is a fairly nice guitar, I knew I would have a hard time ditching it if I needed to. Meanwhile, with this $15 used guitar, I won’t mind if I have to leave it somewhere, or better yet, sell it to someone else! I had so little time to play the guitar while in college, which is something that always made me sad. Once upon a time, I took lessons and put so much hard work into learning how to play. I feel like I finally have the opportunity and the time to pursue this passion once again. In fact, another one of my romantic notions for Thailand is that Faren and I will sing while I play the guitar and Faren rocks out on the bongo drums—on the beach, of course :) We have already started singing again (another one of my favorite hobbies that I have neglected for several years now), developing/re-developing our voices, learning words to songs, and dreaming about performing in restaurants and clubs around here.
In formulating, planning, and daydreaming about my adventures in Thailand, I consciously made a mental list of different things that I wanted to do, accomplish, and develop. I would call this past weekend an ideal one, as it was spent “doing” many things that I have been wishing to do. I danced on the beach, sang on the beach, did yoga on the beach, snorkeled, swam in the waves (again), kayaked, and best of all—went on the craziest jungle hike of my life.
Faren and I had a long weekend to get away, as it was the Buddhist New Year. In Thailand, the people call it “Songkran” and celebrate it with huge water wars on about every street in the country. Having the chance to celebrate Songkran in Thailand is very special. The term "water fight" used to make me think of small water pistols, super soakers, and maybe some water balloons. But after experiencing a Songkran water fight, this term has a whole new meaning. Whole cities are involved in the fun. Families and friends cram as many people as possible into the back of pick-up trucks, cruising around town armed with gallons of water, using every kind of means to douse the passengers in the next car and the passerby’s on the sidewalk. Others will set up camp on the street with a bucket the size of a walk-in closet. Some have hoses, some have guns. To add to the madness, everyone throws talcum powder around, smearing it all over their cheeks like war paint. In essence, Songkran was the biggest party I have ever attended.
It was a difficult decision of where to spend the holiday weekend. Bangkok is known for the craziness and utter chaos (in a good way) on the New Year, and to make the city even more enticing, we could have tagged along with three of our friends from Surat, who were driving up and staying in a house. And these guys really know how to have a good time. However, Faren and I, being the cautious women that we are, researched safety threats. Since there was heightened security in Bangkok for Songkran, we decided to stick with our original plan and retreat to our favorite island in the whole world, Ko Phangan. Thankfully, Bangkok survived the past week with no instances of bombs or notable shootings (which is more than I can say for my own country).
Upon disembarking the ferry and embarking upon Ko Phangan, Faren and I ran for the nearest tuk-tuk (technically a Song-thaew, which I explained in the previous post, but everyone refers to them as tuk-tuks in this region). We could see the full-blown water fight was just meters away in the small village of Thongsala, and we wanted to avoid the buckets of water from stragglers as much as possible while we still had our backpacks. This attempt was in vain. Riding through the streets, the tuk-tuk and all of its passengers were drenched with buckets, hoses, and waterguns. I felt like I was thrown into some kind of jovial war without any form of self-defense. It is known by all Thai people and most of the farrang that if you are going to venture outside on Songkran, even if for just a moment, anything you don’t want soaking wet should be kept at home. So, I had safely tucked away my camera, phone, and iPod in a plastic bag. And before we had made it to the safety of our hotel, in the spirit of the holiday, the rain came down. Sheets of tropical rain with no warning. If you think for one moment that this sounds cold, don’t. Of course, dripping clothing is not too comfortable. But the heat is so intense that, apart from the initial surprise from a bucket of water and a torrent of rain, everyone is happy to be drenched in water.
The first night on Ko Phangan we spent at Haad Rin, dancing and drinking on the beach. Late into the night, there were still some people on the hunt with waterguns and buckets in hand. After applying a little bit of makeup for the first time in days, we ventured out onto the little dirt street in search of a happening bar. Within 2 minutes, I was squirted right in the face by a boy with a supersoaker-like water gun. Figures. Faren and I had a few other moments where we were forced to run the other direction to avoid the streams of water quickly approaching. After taking refuge in a bar, we befriended some nice Irish folk and spent the rest of the night drinking and dancing on the beach with our new buddies.
The next day, we ventured from the South end of the island to a secluded beach on the North end, aptly named Coconut Beach. Coconut Beach is one of those rare places where holiday makers will come for a day or two, and subsequently cannot help but extend their trip for weeks. We witnessed this happen to almost all of the people whom we met. On the surface, it does not seem like there is a whole lot going on. But somehow, mysteriously enough, you can never get bored. Faren and I originally planned to come for one night, but stayed for the rest of our long weekend, a total of three nights. In order to get there, you have to travel quite a distance on a rocky, hilly, dirt road. The water is clear and the white-sand beach is lined with palm trees and hammocks. To add to the enchanting atmosphere, the Thai people who ran our hotel (actually just a group of bungalows on the beach, above picture shows where we eat all our meals at the hotel) showed us the “true” Thai hospitality for which Thailand is famous. For those three days, it felt like we were in our own little colony on the beach. Everyone staying in those bungalows got to know one another. We shared stories of our travels with people from England and Australia. We sang along to the guitar with people from Sweden and Austria. We ate with the Thais and the Canadians. It was perfect.
Coconut Beach is also home to the most creative and charming bar I’ve ever seen, built right into the rocks on the beach (see picture at right). It was very small and lit with strings of lights (picture below) until the power was shut off every night at midnight, at which point candle light illuminated the area. This was a place for gathering, drinking, talking, singing, and star gazing.
Nearby to Coconut Beach is a getaway that is reachable “only” by boat. It is called Bottle Beach. Faren and I decided that we would use our hotel’s kayak to get there. Armed with a real kayak paddle and a canoe paddle, we launched the boat with quite difficulty (I guess we aren’t as strong as we’d like to think) and were off. Immediately, we knew that the wind was going to be a problem. We were paddling against a very strong current. But this did not deter us for a moment. Along the way, we found some great snorkeling. My years of boating experience came to use when I was able to securely tie off our canoe to a seemingly impossible rocky cliff, and we leisurely snorkeled without fear of losing the kayak and having to swim back to Coconut Beach. Once our noses were completely filled with salt water (this is the problem with cheap snorkels), we continued on our journey, only to find that the current had become stronger. But, we kept paddling! We still made fairly good distance, and after an hour with no Bottle Beach in site, we were desperate. Faren jumped out of the kayak and tried to help my paddling by giving it a hard shove every few minutes. This lasted for about 15 or 20 minutes. We kept looking to the next bend in the coast, and hoping that our destination would come in sight once we rounded that corner. Eventually, tired and hungry, we had to give up. So instead, we both laid down across the kayak and let the current carry us all the way back to Coconut Beach. Although we did not get to see Bottle Beach that day, we did have a fun adventure, see some great snorkeling, and get in a good arm workout!
Longing for a good hike, Faren and I decided to try to reach Bottle Beach once again. Most tourists will simply take a longboat, but we were determined to get there on our own. Despite warnings of the difficulty and length of the hike, and the opinions of others that we should not try to hike to Bottle Beach at all, we were not dissuaded. This turned out to be a very good thing, as it was the best, wildest, most difficult and most fun hike that either Faren or I have ever been on. We scaled rocks above the rocky shoreline, we climbed on the rocky shoreline itself, we slid down hills, we used tree roots for footing when climbing up the walls of the jungle, we got attacked and bitten by big red ants, we even got lost from the trail. All in the sweltering heat of midday. The trail was not really even a trail at all. At times it was almost impossible to know which direction we were to go next, and the only thing that made it possible was the bottles marking the way. At (almost) every twist and turn there was some kind of empty water bottle securely stuck on a tree branch, pointing us in the right direction. As we downed every last drop from the water bottles in our daypack, we contributed to the effort. I found myself wandering whether the name, “Bottle Beach,” or the trail markers came first.
After some scary instances on the rocky cliffs next to the shore, and finally finding our way back to the bottles, we made it all the way to our destination. Both Faren and I had moments where we could not help but feel as if we were doomed. Either we were going to fall and get banged up pretty badly, we were going to have turn back, or we were going to have to wave our arms wildly at one of the passing longboats full of tourists. There were a few times where we were stuck on the rocky coast and it seemed as if our only way out was to swim, which would have not been good for my camera as it is not waterproof like my cousin’s. But we never had to swim and we never had to seek help from the passing boats. It was quite an accomplishment when we came walking out of the jungle, looked back at the looming mountain behind us, and knowing that we had finally made it. Every person we talked to were in awe that these two girls had just stumbled out of the jungle and onto their beach. Needless to say, we took a longboat to get back to Coconut Beach :)
It was difficult to leave our vacation haven, but both of us had to get back to work on Wednesday. Through networking, I landed a temporary teaching job (which is quite difficult to get since most require you to sign a one-year contract) in Surat Thani and my first day was Wednesday, which was very exciting for me. I have two classes, two hours each, and my students range from ages 6 to 27. Most English teachers in Thailand do not speak any Thai. In this case, my students’ previous teacher is a Native English speaker who grew up in New York, but, he is Thai and he can speak Thai. So, they were a bit nervous to have a non-Thai speaking young white woman as a teacher. All in all, I found my students to be very sweet, I loved teaching them, and I am looking forward to developing relationships with them as they become more comfortable with their “farrang” teacher. And after just one day, I can already see that it will be a very rich and rewarding experience.
In other news, one of my Thai friends helped me to find a used guitar for only 500 baht! (about $15 USD) I had seen plenty of guitars around, but they were always at least 2000-3000 baht, so I was very lucky to have someone native who could take me to the right place and help me get the right price. Not surprisingly, white people are often charged “tourist” prices, unless you can convey to the vendor that you are a poor English teacher—not a tourist. I had originally planned to bring my own guitar on my travels, but at the last second, right before I left for the airport, I decided that it was going to be too heavy to schlep. And since it is a fairly nice guitar, I knew I would have a hard time ditching it if I needed to. Meanwhile, with this $15 used guitar, I won’t mind if I have to leave it somewhere, or better yet, sell it to someone else! I had so little time to play the guitar while in college, which is something that always made me sad. Once upon a time, I took lessons and put so much hard work into learning how to play. I feel like I finally have the opportunity and the time to pursue this passion once again. In fact, another one of my romantic notions for Thailand is that Faren and I will sing while I play the guitar and Faren rocks out on the bongo drums—on the beach, of course :) We have already started singing again (another one of my favorite hobbies that I have neglected for several years now), developing/re-developing our voices, learning words to songs, and dreaming about performing in restaurants and clubs around here.