April 16th, 2024.
We’re on the back of a moving pickup on Thakhek’s main street. We have bands of splashers on both sides. What do they want? Soak us as much as possible. Soak every dry part of the body, and then some more. This is the last day of Bun Pi Mai, Laos new year. It’s the last day of this tradition, of soaking each other with water, so people want to do it right.
Before any of this happened, I arrived to today’s guesthouse. Run by a family, the daughter, Nong, was just about to visit the town’s Buddhist temples. Another traditions of Laos new year is going to temples and pouring water over Buddha statues. I hadn’t even checked-in when she invited me to visit the temples with her family. I was tired from a trip from Savannakhet, but these was my only opportunity to live this tradition. “I’ll take a quick shower and be ready”, I said. I was soaking in sweat, having walked 2 km from the bus station to the guesthouse. At noon. In April, Laos hottest month. “You are going to get wet again”, she said, hinting at what was coming.
We got in the family’s pickup truck. Nong’s father was driving. On the back of the pickup, we were seven: Her two brothers, two of his brothers friends, a girl from Luxembourg (staying at the guesthouse too), Nong, and me. In the center of the pickup bed, a blue water tank filled to the top with fragrant water. To make it, Nong’s brothers used yellow flowers that bloom during this time. They call it “lucky flower”.
The plan with this fragrant water is to go to multiple Buddhist temples and pour water over Buddha statues. This is done on the new year to leave bad thing behind and purify the soul for the coming year. At each temple, you do the same round, walking pass all the Buddha status, pouring fragrant water on each one of them. There’s traditional music on the temples, food, and monks giving their blessing. What Nong didn’t mention, was that on the way to each temple, we were going to be greeted my people trowing water at anyone passing the street.
They threw all types of water at us. Normal water. Cold water. Hot water. Fragrant water. Dirty water. Pool water. You name it. They would trow us hot water, followed immediately by ice water, just to maximize the shock.
This was. So. Much. Fun. At the start, we wouldn’t retaliate, all our fragrant water was for the Buddha statues. But after 13 temples (doing an odd number is good luck), we were ready for water vengeance. At the last temple, we filled up the big blue water tank and drove to the main street, where people in town gather for a water fight lasting a couple of kilometers.
This water fight was like going to a water attraction, expect it seemed to never end. I had my phone inside a Ziploc bag, inside a regular plastic bag, wrap around inside my pocket. Even like that, somehow, it got wet. My phone screen is on the verge of failing on me because of this.
All the soaking is done in good spirit. After trowing water to someone, you would say happy new year, smile, and wave. People would smear both sides of your face with baby powder. After an hour of getting soaked on the main street, we reach the guest house. Nong looked at me, “do you want to do it again?”. “Hell yeah!”
I’m holding on to my seat as hard as I can. The van is going fast, the road, in poor conditions. I’m afraid if I let go, I will fly to the roof and brake my neck. I let go only a second and I hit the top of the window with my shoulder, hard. It’s painful. I had just read about Buddhism in Laos, and the concept of anicca, the impermanence of all things. On this van, packed with people, going at 80 km/hour, sitting on the back row, bumping, sweating. All I can do is hold on. What a great way to get reminded of anicca. Nothing last forever, let go any aversion about this nightmare of a ride, just accept it.
We hit 90 km/hour. My shoulder is in pain. Just let go. I can’t even see the road, the windows too low for my height. We could crash and I would only know at impact. These roads aren’t meant to be driven at 90 km/hour. We could die at any moment. Everyone on the back seat is holding on to whatever they can. It’s hell on the back row. The front looks like heaven from here. Aah yes, anicca, how could I’ve forgotten you. I had practiced this concept before, having done two Buddhist meditation retreats in the past.
We slow down, there are some road repairs ahead. Thank god, Buddha, the universe, all and any of them. Just before reaching Thakhek, the van stops to collect our fares.
