A tall white ‘farang’ walks confidently down the main street of Luang Prabang, Lao, with a 3-foot neon supersoaker held protectively across his body, on the lookout for small armed children. The man’s gait seems to say, “Walk softly—and carry a big squirtgun.”
Sabaay dii Pii Mai! Welcome to the water festival and the Buddhist New Year. April 13-16 is the height of the hot, dry season, so what better way to celebrate than give all citizens a license to drench anyone in sight-friend, foe, neighbor, foreigner, young, old and, of course, the dry.
Loud pop music blares out of speakers and lends an energetic soundtrack for the lively streets filled with street vendors out in force for the Laos on holiday. Even the police working today have a smirk on their face and wet patches. Girls with dripping hair zip by barefoot on motorbikes, kids wait eagerly on the sidewalk with buckets and hoses, and honking pickup trucks filled with 40 of your closest friends and family are gathered chanting and singing, crowded around a huge barrel of water drinking a Beer Lao in the back.
On the way to my guesthouse, I wonder if there is a superior way to avoid a drenching. Demur and quiet? Quick and businesslike? Duck, dodge and run? Nothing works-and the kids only enjoy it more when I am almost by, thinking I’d escaped only to feel a whole pan being poured down my back! I also had the misfortune of wearing a brown dress that doesn’t appear to get wet. Completely soaked, I walk by a girl who exclaims with shock-“She’s dry!” which brings her whole posse’s wrath on me.
Ironically, after being completely soaked I was very thirsty. I spy some bottles of water for sale across the street guarded by 6 boys. Imagine their delight when I said, “Water, please?” while gesturing wildly at the drinkable version. They grin and say, “Nam plaa? Okay, okay!” and then empty their buckets all over me.
In addition to soaking you, sometimes they dye the water colors, or throw white ash on you once wet so people go around looking like some kind of pathetic human powdered sugar donut. In order to make everyone as wet as you, they use any sort of pail, vessel or pot they can find. The result is often times a cooking pot with soot on the bottom being smeared across everyone’s faces!
Pii Mai blends the colorfulness of a state fair, anticipation of Christmas, party attitude of Mardi Gras and the laidback vibe of 4th of July. In the early (5:30 a.m!) morning long lines of orange-clad monks file along the vendors collecting alms of rice and food. I’m looking forward to the other events over the next few days: a parade, a Miss New Year contest, carnival and carrying a Buddha through the streets.
April has never been so exciting!