Last weekend sort of flew by something like this:
Saturday, 9:30am: A crowd of some slightly hung over, some very hung over, some very sober friends all pile into a rented van to head into the mountains. We are equipped with four plastic bags, big bottles of water, and Dramamine. Check. Three very green looking individuals with large sunglasses nurse bottles of ginger ale and cups of ginger tea. Onto Pai!
1:30pm: Arrival in Pai. Stake out the camp site. Celebrations. Purchasings of absurd quantities of revelry materials. On to set up camp. Literally.
3:00pm: Tents are officially pitched on a large lot near the river. Scenic. 80 baht/ head. Fantastic.
4:00pm: Brunch/lunch/early dinner is sought and devoured. Momentary interlude with some mealy white worms floating in a cup of nam pbla , popular fish sauce served with most rice dishes. Confusion trying to explain the slithering creatures. More green faces. Hunt for a sandwich shop/bakery. Success.
6:00pm: Back to our guest house where Elena, Cresa, and I are staying while friends head to the tents to prepare for the festival night ahead. Wait. Actually, mai mii fai— black out at our guest house Baan Pai. Sighs. Such a beautiful place. Embers glow tauntingly beneath their lamp shades. Several sudden flickers give us hope, but alas, nothing. We resort to stealing candles from the lobby tables. Done and done.
7:00pm: Somewhat dressed, colors perhaps not quite matching, mascara and eyeliner on our cheeks, Elena and I sit like old ladies sipping our Sauvignon Blanc in the restaurant and lounge, clucking and remarking on tourist passersby. Remind me again when we turned 80 and bitter?
8:30pm: Joined by Cresa, we head to the tents and then pile into the ten-person van turned fifteen-person party mobile to head to the festival grounds nearby. Thai pop music videos blare on the in-car TV. The pulsating rhythms greet us at the door. We haggle successfully for lowered ticket prices, hand over a whopping 250 baht each and head inside.
9:15pm: Okay, now I actually head inside after a lengthy Spanish convo with a Brazilian couple and their friend selling their jewelry wares at the entrance to the festival. Advice on India, Brazil, Peru, and life abound. I suddenly feel home again, whisked back to the streets of Latin America. Wistfully, I part ways and run inside to find my compadres.
9:20pm: Inside I find sheer pandemonium. Hay litters the outdoor amphitheater; Chang beer and Sangsom whiskey stands line the sides and farang and Thai alike mill about in yellow, red, and green striped shirts and woven hats and fisherman pants. The faint smell of ganja hangs on the air. Ah, Reggae Festival 2010.
Approximately 2:45am: Music still throbbing in our ear drums, we make our way to the khao soy stand on the side of the road and down hefty bowls of the spicy northern curried soup. Then some random assortment of folks, no final word on numbers, pile back into the party van, some still toting reggae cups and bottles, others sleeping while talking, ridiculousness.
3:30am: Somehow sans Cresa who has gone on a 7-11 hunt, Elena, Becca, and I make our way in the suddenly frigid mountain air back to our guest houses. Within minutes of showering, we’re knocked out cold for the many hours of the night. Rest at last.
10:30am: Cresa, Elena, and I wake to the obnoxious sounds of backpackers shouting a conversation to one another from their opposite bungalows near our own. Something along the lines of: Man with unusually high voice: “So when I woke up this morning and meditated, I was just writing in my journal about going to Laos. I really think it will cleanse me and be such a moving experience.” Girl with feigned (?) enthusiasm: “Totally. I know what you mean. Thailand has just really helped me grow so much in these past three weeks. I might do Vietnam next.” Man: “Be careful of the motorbikes.” Girl: “I know! I really think Thailand needs to have more regulations for that. It’s just ridiculous what some people get away with on the roads here. So unsafe. I’d never get on one of those motorbike things.”
The three of us burst into uncontrollable laughter. Their conversation comes to a sudden stop. I think we might have laughed all the way back to Chiang Mai.
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