Letting It Happen In Chiang Rai

You know it's been the Best Weekend Ever when:

1. You spent it in the amazing city of Chiang Rai
2. You slept a night on a floating bamboo river raft at a 36-hr Thai music festival 
3. You now go by the name "DJ MoonMuang," are besties with DJ Day Jumper, DJ Squeek-Lez and DJ B9, and have experience throwing down a beat 
4. You befriended your 42-year-old Thai tuk tuk (taxi) driver, and wound up treating him to ice cream, five rounds of whisky, dinner and a late-night jam session - all while he drove you around for an entire day 
5. You ended one night singing with friends in your own private room at the underground level of a Thai Karaoke Bar - said tuk tuk driver making it a Party of Five 
6. Weekend souvenirs include a fur-lined winter hat and a kite, and
7. You endured watching grandmothers vomit and losing your camera in the same 12 hours and STILL want to call it the Best Weekend Ever.

Here we go.

This weekend was the King's 83rd birthday, and with no school for the national holiday on Monday, Emily and I decided to venture out of Nan for our 3-day vacation. We bused to Chiang Mai on Friday after school, met up and stayed the night with our fellow PiA fellow, Kelsey, and by Saturday morning the three of us were at the bus station, headed for Chiang Rai - a city about 3.5 hours north of CM, near the border of Myanmar. We were going for the Chiang Rai Music Festival - a 36-hour outdoor concert held on a riverside "beach" along the Kok River (Kelsey had found a flyer for it a few weeks ago; planning had commenced immediately).

Saturday morning started out smoothly. We got up on time (even after just 3 hours of sleep), managed to grab breakfast and coffee to go, and arrived at the bus station well before our bus was scheduled to leave at 9am. When still no bus had come by 9:15, we asked around showing our tickets and were told by the ever reliable staff of Green Bus Thailand that it would be there in ten minutes. A Chiang Rai bus eventually did roll in - but a few moments after we boarded, we were told that we were on the wrong bus and kicked off: the 9am Chiang Rai bus had already left. After a few rounds of argument with the bus staff about whether we'd have to purchase new tickets, we were finally put on a third bus - a double-decker, neon painted, "Crazy Bus Thailand" bus. Boxcar Children style, we were put on the Crazy Bus as stowaways in a small dining car compartment, along with an entire Thai family: mom, dad, kids, baby, grandfather, and a toothless 100-year-old grandmother.

Craaazy Bus Thailand. Crazy, indeed.

All was going well until a few hours into the bus ride, when grandma got carsick next to Emily and reached for some plastic bags. She took care of business nonchalantly, then fell back to sleep, while we looked around at each other horrified and started to feel claustrophobic in the enclosed space. Over the next hour, carsickness became contagious among the family - everyone just passing around plastic bags and treating it like a regular occurrence. The little girl was taken into the hallway outside, where she threw up all over the side door entrance, and was then left there for the remainder of the bus ride (grandpa went and checked on her every now and then, always giving me a big smile on his way out). Next, mom got sick while nursing, and had to quickly pass the baby over to the next closest family member before reaching for her bag. No one seemed concerned about this vomiting phenomenon in the slightest, and everyone (including the girl relegated to the hallway) went back into a peaceful nap afterwards. Meanwhile, water from the next door bathroom - a squat-toilet room with a bucket of water for flushing and no latch on the door - sloshed out and leaked into our dining car, making the unpleasant stench even worse. Just an average day in Thai bus adventures.

Once in Chiang Rai, we wasted no time getting a ride to the festival. It had begun Friday night and was scheduled to go until Sunday at 6 a.m., and we didn't want to miss any more of it than we already had - especially since we had no idea what to expect at a Thai music festival or how crowded it would be. Turns out, however, that "36-hour music festival" really means that it happened Friday night, then would start again Saturday night. At 2:30 on Saturday afternoon, with our backpacks in tow and eager to get the weekend partying started, we were the only souls on the lot, except for the Thai carnies setting up their food stalls and workers doing sound checks on the stage.

Getting all "fancy" with raft accommodation.

A guy named Lek who was apparently in charge showed us around and explained that things would start around 4 p.m.. Since even the ticket stand was not open yet, he said he'd just "find us later" to pay. He showed us where to eat lunch: under a tent with some food vendors (customer tables hadn't been set up yet). Then he asked if we wanted to stay the night in a tent or raft. Although we'd pictured sleeping in tents, we had to ask about the raft option, and were taken to the riverside where a row of "freshly assembled" bamboo huts (about 6 x 8') floated out in the river. The rafts even had personal "bathrooms": four short walls made out of thatched palm fronds enclosing a hole in the floor of the raft. The rafts were vacant except a handful of festival workers who were taking an afternoon snooze in a few of them, so Lek said to hop in whichever one we wanted - he'd just charge us for that later, too.

The Peace House: leaving little to the imagination.

With nothing but time to kill (things definitely were still not "hopping" at 4 p.m.), we walked around the deserted lot for a few hours and visited the only stand open, the Peace House: a Rastafarian hut selling free bananas, handmade satchels, cannabis flags and dreadlocks extensions. An Australian-turned-Jamaican girl who worked there told us she'd been hanging out there for a week (really?), and was glad we took the "fancy" option of a raft over the tents. Later we played free rounds of promotional games at Thai energy drink stands while they set up (and stocked up on a lifetime supply of sample Tune-Up and Hang). As the sun set, we lounged on the river on our raft - home base at the festival - and chatted in broken Thai with the awkward 18-year-old boys chilling in the raft next door.

After dark, four of Kelsey's friends from Chiang Mai who had planned to meet us arrived - Christian, Dave, Alam and Conrad. Together we made up just a handful of non-Thais at the festival, which featured a host of prominent Thai ska bands such as JoyBoy, T-Bone, Better Weather and DJ Afro Beat Wizzard. (Crowds did eventually surface at the stage as the night went on, but the spacious lot was awkwardly unfilled the whole evening... I guess next time they should hang more flyers).

Fur hat brigade

In what would be a theme for the weekend, our night consisted of a series of escalating ridiculous events.  We befriended Thai ska music enthusiasts in the concert crowd; purchased fur-lined lumberjack hats to wear around all night; managed to get into the "VIP" front stage section, for optimal dancing space; participated in fire show (Kelsey was handed a stick with flaming ends, and just rolled with it); set off Loy Krathong lanterns; convinced a bartender to fill up a mixed-drink "bucket" with vodka, since he wasn't allowed to sell us the bottle alone; acquired our own DJ names (see #3 above); and ate about four different rounds of dinner at the Thai food stands. At some point while I was moshing with Thais center-stage, my camera fell out of the hole that had formed in the lining of my $2 cotton shorts. It is lost forever (these pics are borrowed), but still, having had so much fun this weekend I can't even feel sad about it.

Ska music is so hot in Thailand right now.

Eventually we did go to sleep - huddled on our raft in blankets and fur hats to drown out the techno music that played until sunrise. By morning, we were yet again the only ones left at the "festival": even rastafarian woman had finally left the Peace Hut. We had some workers give us a lift into Chiang Rai city (there was plenty o' room in the truck beside the metal poles they were transporting), and parted ways with the Chiang Mai guys except for Christian, who made the wise decision to hang out in Chiang Rai with us another 24 hours.

After checking into a guesthouse, a tuk-tuk driver took me, Emily, Kelsey and Christian to the famous White Temple, Wat Rong Khun: a huge, all-white (duh), insanely trippy Buddhist-Hindu temple at the edge of the city. We held an impromptu photo shoot on the steps with some Thai tourists (one of whom called me "a moon among stars," apparently since my yellow shirt popped against everyone else's white), then met the tuk-tuk driver again, who had been waiting for us.

The White Temple, Chiang Rai. Unreal.

Best Weekend Ever - must include kites.

Now is a time as good as any to tell you more about Tik, our tuk-tuk driver. After all, this guy became a huge player in the Best Weekend Ever. Tik took us the White Temple around 1pm Sunday, and didn't leave our side until 1am that night. After the White Temple, Tik agreed to a quick stop to buy kites on the roadside (even holding Kelsey's hand to help her cross the highway), and played photographer while we tested them out. We treated him to ice cream. He suggested a good "beach spot" on the river, and sat with us while we ate and drank there for a few hours - pouring ice in our cups and delivering our order to the waiter for us. We included him in our game of "Would You Rather...," making whatever comparisons we could make with a limited Thai vocabulary (Hot or Cold? Black or White? Rice or Noodles?). Tik helped himself to some of our dinner and drinks. We hummed the Thai national anthem for him, to a recorded version on Kelsey's handphone. Tik was shy, in his forties, and spoke no English, but he fit right in with us... By the end of dinner, this guy was no longer our tuk-tuk driver; he was our friend who just happened to own a tuk-tuk.

THIS guy. Had to treat him to some ice cream.

We told Tik we wanted to find something to do in the city that night, preferably involving karaoke. Due to the King's birthday, most places were closed and dry, and we knew we'd need a local's help. Tik gave us his phone number, and gestured to call him when we were ready at our guesthouse. After a few rounds of whisky-sodas, improv rap sessions (themed: "Just Let It Happen In Chiang Rai"), and awarding weekend points to each other for best ideas and positive attitude, we were ready. We donned our fur hats, and Tik arrived in a minute - with a new change of clothes on.

Tik took us to what was quite possibly the seediest hotel bar in Chiang Rai, but likely our only option that night. We ordered a karaoke room, and Tik came right along with us. After several hours of karaoke (during which Tik sat in the corner shyly, but got a kick out of us rocking out to Melissa Etheridge in fur hats), Tik drove us home. When we tried to pay him, he said mai bpen rai - no worries. We shoved 200 baht in his hand anyway, but seriously: What. A. Guy.

Early Monday morning, Emily (DJ Day Jumper) and I said a regretful goodbye to Kelsey (DJ B9) and Christian (DJ Squeek-Lez) and headed towards Nan. We could all agree it was a weekend of superlatives. Letting It Happen In Chiang Rai reunion trips TBA.

Christian, me, Tik, Emily and Kelsey: Party of Five

Next weekend is another 3-day vacay: stay tuned!