The second item I brought was a water pistol, although maybe "water assault rifle" might be a more appropriate description. I spent ages looking at the different options available, with the sole aim of getting the biggest, gnarliest looking weapon I could find. What I ended up with was a bright yellow and red affair, with a pump at its base allowing you to increase the water pressure inside to man canon levels. Red and yellow were obviously chosen because they relate to the colours used in nature to other creatures that the creature sporting them is unpleasant in either nature or taste. It was in no way whatsoever because it was the only colour scheme I could lay my hands on.
So in the morning I pondered on my course of action, and slung my camera in my bag before heading out to the main street in Silom without my gun, leaving that behind as not to draw attention to myself. As I wanted to get some pictures of the coming days events, I wanted to see whether I could slip by the water fights unscathed, hopeful that i might be granted the same kind of special privileges or allowances that are often shown to war photographers in the field. At 11 am there wasn't much sign of the carnage I had been warned of, and I slipped down the road and into the Bon Au Pan at the corner of the Lumpini end of the street for a light breakfast and morning coffee, watching the opening parade of beauty queens in the air conditioned comfort, raised up slightly from the street below and safely shielded behind ceiling to floor glass.
After the ceremony had finished, I went outside to get a few quick pics, watching the people outside spray each other with the light mist that comes from the handheld bottles more often used for watering indoor plants. but this is where the dainty approach ended. Pretty soon carnage descended.
Under the BTS station, a Red Bull stage housed a DJ playing thumping tunes and girls dancing on stage. At certain points the crowd would shout and fire their pistols in the air, driven insane by the man on the decks and bouncing like crazy as the music dictated. Past here it was soon apparent that my non antagonistic approach wasn't making any difference to being a target for water, infact it was probably to the contrary. A 6ft 1 foreigner, unarmed? The only thing missing from me was a painted bullseye.
I made it up to the first junction, taking hits from all angles, from guns, hoses and small buckets before finally taking a pasting from a guy wearing a smile 3 sizes too big for his face. That was enough for me, and I put the camera away safely in the bag and headed back to the hostel to get armed. It wasn't going to stop me getting wet of course, but at least I would get the satisfaction of being able to give back as good as, or better than I was getting.
Back at the hostel, I tried to work out the mechanics of trying to wear my weapon to allow me to both carry and shield my camera from the elements and fire off both items at will when required. My gun strap got hoisted over my neck allowing my gun to hang to my left and be fired by my right thumb, leaving my right hand to be completely free to handle the camera which was set up to focus and lock onto the object which I pointed. Less time exposed, the less chance of damage to the camera but also the more spontaneous I was going to have to be when getting the picture. This was going to be a challenge.
I got soaked before I got back to the main street, but at least this time I could get a shot back, startling some with the power of the shot that was coming back their way, dissuading others that were eyeing me up when they saw me smiling back at them manically with my red nozzle pointing their direction. but still, the onslaught was almost relentless. Water came from ever direction as I searched for shelter and shade in the 40 degree heat, the only respite from both coming as I sat down to check my sugars and eat some food from a stall. The rest of the time I was firing, or being fired at. Soaking or being soaked. Laughing at, being laughed at or just laughing because. It was genuinely the most fun I have had for the longest time. I stayed out a couple of hours before I called it a day, retiring to the hostel to let my muscles seize up again.
In the evening I attempted to get to the massage parlour I been a couple of night before, getting right to the door before a young lady appeared and just emptied small bottle of water down my top. Wetter than I had been 2 seconds before I made my way inside and indicated to the lady at the counter which parts of me were in pain so she could tell me what I needed. I was then led upstair, given a pair of giant waisted pyjama and left to get changed. holding up the pants defeatedly when the masseuse came up to begin my treatment. Amusedly she pointed out the string at the back of the bottoms, which should be at the front to enable them to be fastened. I spun them around, tightened them up and led down on the matt as directed, her english limited to just enough to be able to direct me accordingly.
My thighs and calves were agony, especially when she applied anything other than the gentlest of presses, and this was obvious enough through my facial expression that she soon started pressing and working those areas more gently than she had done initially, after a little while she ordered me to turn over and set about working the back of my legs, pulling and moving them about and getting more movement out of them then they had been able to do for a while. At this point, feeling the immediate benefits of the magic she was working, I made the mistake of asking for an extra hour in order to maximise the benefits. being led on my front, I didn't realise the bar that ran directly above.
Gently she placed one foot on the back of my thigh, before placing the rest of her weight on her other and shifting her weight from side to side, in the same way a cat does when prepping your leg for a nap. She then proceeded to moved up and down my legs, onto my calves bringing such extreme pain that I pressed my head into the pillow to stop myself showing any signs of pain. I still have no idea how she was doing what she was doing, how she was pulling my leg up with one while still standing on the other still balancing on thigh, but despite the pain I could tell it was working. After my legs she proceed up my back, pressing down on my chest, standing lightly on my shoulders before stepping back and pressing down onto my chest again. It was starting to feel like a bit of work out.
Before I finished she sat me up and sat behind me, wrapping her leg around me one side, and then the other in between twisting and pulling me into angles my body has never been twisted and pulled. She was seemingly not worried about the multiple cracks a groans that my body gave out, and surprisingly neither was I, occasionally giving out a relieved laughter when it was apparent that after everything she was doing, I was still able to move. More than that though, immediately after she had finished and I had changed, I could feel just how much difference the last 2 hours had made. It was like being touched by a miracle worker.
You have to give credit where credit it due and in my time on this planet I have battled with and punches off people much bigger in size and weight than the diminutive frame that this lady possessed, but I have honestly never felt so much pure power from anyone, nothing has ever come close. Just absolutely awesome.
I left the hostel at way past 10pm and started heading back to the hostel, moving freer and easier than I had for a very long time. Surprisingly outside I managed to stay dry for about 4 steps before some saw fit to pour a bowl of water over my head, continuing to do so until I was soaked back through. At this point in time though, as weird as it sounds, I really didn't care too much.
I was amazed that I was able to walk
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