The Ways of Water and White People

Well, Songkran has just passed again for us missionaries.  Songkran is that time of year where we put our badges on a multi-colored flower shirt, wear shorts, buy a bucket, and go mad around the city, splashing people’s faces with water.  In return, we get people’s hands, girls, guys, kids, touching our faces with a tan mud saying, “Happy Songkran!”
After four o’clock, people roll out the trucks, dance in the back, play loud music and DRINK A LOT.  Eventually, after 6:00, all the peoples are drunk due to the free alcohol every 20 feet, all the peoples are slapping each other’s faces with mud, and every faraang (white person) is in danger of getting wrecked.


In the back of a truck, my arms extended in peace signs, and water hits my face dead-on, knocking my head back.  As it’s back, another water line (this time ice cold) hits me directly in the gut and face, practically paralyzing me with colder than ice salt water.  I scream, “AMERICA!” and the three cars around me scream in unison, their Thai accent changing, “YEAH, AMERICAAAA!”

Me and Elder Bartschi are walking along with a member our age named Bank.  A ridiculously big, humongous, only in your dreams could she be this fat girl runs over and grabs my arm, dragging me across the street.  I tried to pull back, but her weight destroyed my 200lb frame.  I was pulled against my will to a group of four or five similarly fatnesses who proceed to grab me, pull me, and hug me all over.  I’m on the verge of fighting hardcore, but in a last ditch attempt at escape, I reach my hand out to Elder Bartschi, screaming, “HEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEE!  NOOOOOOOOOO!”
He continued to stand there, laughing.
My left arm was released, and instantly I book it.  All of them but one girl dispersed, and as I look back to see if they’re chasing me, I see the one girl who initially grabbed me.  Her face formed a sad, dejected look as I sprinted away.  She mouthed the words, “Come back” in English, and in return I screamed, “NO!”  I had escaped to freedom, at last.
About an hour later, we’re walking down another street where some friends of a member, Sister Eve are.  I get there, and a big, fat guy not wearing a shirt comes over with a beer in his hand.  He comes up to me saying, “HUG!”  I hug him like a bro, and he tries to hand me his beer.  I reject it, saying I don’t drink and he’s totally okay with it.  Just broin’ it up, splashin’ people with water.
After a bit, there happen to be two girls dancing next to us.  I’m avoiding them to the best of my ability, but Sister Eve thinks it would be funny if she messes with me.  She grabs my arm, takes me over to them, and throws me at them.  I’m a bit miffed, and the two girls grab me instantly.  I grab Eve’s arm, and use the leverage of her walking away to pull myself away from their grasp, launching myself into the arms of the fat guy.  He laughs in a big “HO HO HO” and pats me on the back sayin’ I’m a good dude.  Sister Eve gets left behind in the middle of the dancing twins, trying to escape.
Heheheh.Near the end, Me, Elder Hixson my companion, Elder Bartschi, and Elder Bruse and the rest of the many members are sitting in the back of a truck, rolling down the street with the most people.  We’re splashing people, people are splashing us, we’re getting mud on our faces, and we’re mudding people.  It’s all good fun.
Then a big, burly, deeply voiced, 6’6″ transvestite comes bounding over to our truck, latches on to Elder Hixson, and tries to pull him off.  A few of us grab onto him, and the trannie proceeds to rub his arms all over with his head on Elder Hixson’s shoulder.  He took it like a man, and ripped it off of him.
After that, we got off the truck so we could run away if we needed to.  This began an adventure with me and my companion.
As we walked, I counted approximately 200+ people at least that smacked our faces with mud.  I returned fire with my own barrage of Thai words that caused them to reel back in surprise.  The old people are the best.  Their smiles are so sweet.
Eventually, we got up near the front after dodging a few groups of trannies and saw a fight break out.  A man ran past us, pushing people out of the way.  He stopped a ways out from us and turned around.  He tried to reason with the men chasing him, but they weren’t taking it.  A random man comes from the side and gives one man a HUGE bowie knife, and the other a bo staff.  The guy holding the bowie knife dropped it and started running again as the cops showed up.  As the cops grabbed people and questioned them, the guy that gave the weapons took them back and snuck off.
We said, “Huh.” And continued on.  Partying as we went.

These are merely a few stories.  Songkran is possibly the most fun time, and the most boring time as a missionary.  We get one day to have fun and party, then we have to try and work the rest of the three days.  It’s slow.  So.  Slow.
But that’s okay.  We can’t really teach anyone, but we can get a lot of random stuff done that we’ve been needing to do for a long time.  Fun!

This is my update.  I love you guys.  There’s been a lot of cool things going on.  We had Zone Conference just before Songkran, too.  I’ll write about thaton Monday.  Love you guys!

-Elder Elliot Mayo

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