Festival of Lights and Darkness (Thailand Diary #30)

Some loud explosions were coming from outside. They were fireworks. The Thai were gearing up three days early for the Festival of Lights in Chiang Mai and were doing test runs. You don’t usually see the stars in such a city, but large lanterns assumed the role as they soared towards outer space from a distance.

The Festival of Lights in Thailand is celebrated over two days and includes Loy Krathong (meaning “to float a small vessel”) and Yi Peng (meaning “full moon day”). This takes place every November during a full moon and is a huge hit in Chiang Mai. Heaps of lanterns were released into the sky and beautifully handcrafted floaty offerings were sent adrift on watery bits (mainly the Ping River). A barrage of fireworks are set off over a full four days. (Apparently some infrastructure caught fire at a great cost to the city).

I went into the thick of things on the first official day. There seemed to be colourful warfare happening between two groups of firework wielders on opposite bridges. There was a parade of some kind and throngs of food stalls and people. It felt like Vietnam. The parade had two military men in white being carted around on an expensive-looking piece of furniture while holding onto some kind of trophy. I think it may have been an urn – perhaps with the ashes of someone important. There was a barricade keeping photographers at bay.

There was an amazing array of handcrafted offerings for sale and the production of them was constant. I saw the fire-lit lanterns take lift-off from the riverbanks, some of which got stuck in the trees! An armada of floaty offerings sailed past and fireworks ended up in the river too. Not a fun day for the fish! It was sad to think how polluted the water was getting in the name of Light.

Some traditional dance was happening in another section followed by other stage performances. There was also a play pen with some kids dressed in martial arts outfits. I was meant to meet someone who kept changing her mind, so I decided to bike taxi out of there after a couple of hours. I forgot that the Thai politely don’t hoot, so it took ages to scoot out of there through the horde.

It was good to be back in Chiang Mai with my good friend as well as the expat boys. We came third place in a pub quiz, I experienced Sri Lankan curry dishes (made by a Sri Lankan mate starting a delivery service), and watched the boys play cricket at an annual tournament. The world class trumpet player who I had met months before was trumpeting sound effects and playing national anthems, while a Pakistani chap was solo-singing on the other end of the sea of beer cans.

Not long after the Festival of Lights, Christmas was in the air. Giant, blowup Pikachus and Santas began popping up all over, and Christmas lights were being erected alongside the lanterns from the previous festival. The main streets were now tunnels of twinkling arches and shop owners and staff members were all wearing silly hats. The Thai LOVE a good celebration of just about anything and clearly go nuts for Christmas.

Another kind of festival was taking place across the road from where I was staying on my friend’s couch – outside a mall called Central Festival. Rave music played until late, which was next to a temporary playground with a bouncy castle, bumper cars and a Ferris wheel. Christmas jingles were playing in nearly every shop, and I saw the cleaners of my friend’s building taking turns to ride large floor polishers around a Christmas tree. It was wonderful to be back in Thailand.

Final Days in Vietnam

Before going full circle back to Chiang Mai where my 6-month-long travel journey began, my final week in Vietnam was grim in comparison. I was staying in a small, dark room in Hanoi, with no window to the outside world. The only natural light came through a skylight about three stories up, at the top of a crematorium-like chimney above the toilet. It rained almost constantly and the whirr of washing machines were heard throughout the night. It was dark, cold and wet.

My attempts to walk about outside were either met with heavy rainfall or reacting anxiously to the incessant hooting of the Vietnamese. The rain was also making the polluted lake nearby smell extra rotten. I spent most days indoors and ordered all the food I had not yet tried or attempted to pronounce. One dish ended up being fatty pork knuckles in some sort of stinky broth.

It was not my first rodeo with depression, and I realised how much of it was self-inflicted. My choice of entertainment were documentaries about serial killers. I counted down the days until I would leave and practiced gratitude; but thank God for the Internet! You are never alone with a phone. Reading back on the highlights in these journals, also helped a great deal.

But everything comes to pass, and it has been onwards and upwards since then! Final stop, Bangkok.

Next: Thailand #31 – Out With a Bang

Previously: Vietnam #19 – Cham of Nha Trang