If I only had a waterproof camera…
Yesterday in Hua Hin was the first and only day of public celebration of Songkran. Privately, Thais join their families in a celebration that involves water. Publicly, people throw it at each other. Like most expats, I did it once. Enjoyed the fun, didn’t like the malicious aggressiveness of packs of drunk young males.
This year I went out in the morning, stopping to be a target for the kids standing in front of their homes and shops while some adult kept watch over them. A few were mystified why I didn’t try to avoid, others happily flung and squirted water.
Approaching one shophouse, I could see a little girl, maybe a yard tall (I call them yardlings), while near her was a bucket with a lump. That lump was a boy’s head. He was small enough to sit in a bucket that came up to just below his shoulders, in water up to his ribs. Armed with a bowl about 4 inches across, he was so excited his first throw missed. I moved closer. Frantic now, his second effort was in line but aimed too low. I squatted, his third fling hit home. His joyful reaction was priceless. So were the smiles on mom and dad.