MY first pad thai in Bangkok was in an alley along Silom Road.
The hurried look on our waitress’ face should have been a giveaway of what we would find was a long wait, in that cramped al fresco joint where servers shuffled between shouting orders to the cook and luring passersby to dine in. We noticed there was only one stove - a fact later forgiven as we devoured a feast of local cuisine.
The eatery was packed with locals and tourists, who like us, were drenched from the splashing that transpired during the day. Some had powder clay on their faces, some were carrying water guns, and nearly all of us had the same look: our mobile phones in plastic cases hanging around our neck.
The first of the three-day Songkran had just wrapped up and everyone was in a celebratory mood. Otherwise known as the Thai New Year, the holiday is famed for its water festival in which everyone takes part in the tradition of splashing water on one another, which symbolizes purification and washing away of sins and bad luck.
Prior to our visit, I was under the impression that if I would stay to the side, then somehow I would be spared. But there were no “sides”. Streets and sidewalks were lined with families and friends celebrating with blaring music, dancing, hoses and buckets filled with ice-cold water that they playfully used on anyone who passed by. The daring few would completely pour water over the head and several times I was caught off guard with this - surprising yet refreshing in the blazing heat.
Vehicles were hardly spared either, and as we went on our first tuktuk ride that morning, we had our first hit when a child gleefully aimed his water gun at us, while we were immaculately dressed in our temple-appropriate outfits (that is, jeans and blouses). It was impossible to be a spectator, and the following day we got our own water guns, loaded and ready as we made our way to the city’s biggest water fight in Khao San Road.
Quiet side
Inside the Buddhist temples we witnessed the traditional side of Songkran, as monks performed religious ceremonies and visitors, usually on pilgrimage with family, offered prayers. There was also the gentle pouring of fragrant water on Buddha statues, an act of cleansing from which the festivities we know of today, originated. Our temple visits were a solemn respite from the merrymaking just beyond its walls.
Bangkok is a city of temples renowned for majestic architecture, many of which have stood for over hundreds of years. Our itinerary had us hopping from one to another, and in between were the occasional detours to the nearest 7-Eleven or roadside juice stall, as we tried not to swelter away under the merciless summer sun.
An entire afternoon was spent in Wat Pho (where thankfully there was a cooling area and free water), as we wandered inside its spacious courtyards, in awe of its collection of Buddha statues including the 150-feet reclining Buddha. We chanced upon their show of traditional Thai dances as well.
At the Temple of the Golden Mount, a storied site that sits atop a low hill cemetery, we dared climb the 300 winding steps to the top, where we were greeted with a massive, gleaming chedi known to house a relic of Buddha, and a 360-degree view of the city. It almost felt intrusive as we bustled about alongside locals honoring religious rituals. On the temple grounds below were stalls of merchants selling sacred items and homegrown delicacies.
On the third day of Songkran we found ourselves at Wat Arun, possibly the most recognizable temple, its outline an iconic piece of the city’s skyline. Otherwise called Temple of Dawn, the towering edifice with porcelain finish, is stunning especially when hit by sunlight. Ironically we were there in the afternoon, where under the golden hour’s glow we spent a questionable amount of time perfecting our photos, until they were about to close for the day and the temple staff had to shoo us away.
From there, we took a water taxi heading back, and in that breezy, five-minute ride crossing the Chao Praya River, we were rewarded with a peaceful moment in the sunset, in what felt like a breather from all the revelry and our touristy stints, and a prelude as we ushered in the New Year, too.