Down the winding road from the mountains we came, still a little
dizzy from the heights and the sheer unspoilt beauty of it all. Slowing
down into the village, the driver turned right between a couple of small
shops and swung left into an open dirt compound in front of the headman’s
house. There on the ground, simmering in the noon day sun, was a World
War 2 aero engine!
An artefact so rare that I’d only seen it’s like in films; something
so at odds with it’s surroundings that you almost felt like pinching yourself;
something that fell from the skies in this lovely place years before I
was born. And when, an hour later, two delightful old men, one quiet and
dour, one almost giggling with enthusiasm, showed us the tip of a propellor
blade used for 50 years as a temple gong - well - I could only shake my
head in disbelief.....
The human interest aspect is ongoing, as Dawn Callahan from Laos, now
an American national living in Chiangmai, helped unearth this ‘find’, intends
it to benefit poor villagers and will apply images of old planes to her
new range of bags. ‘Bags of enthusiasm’ I’d say!
Sources of information in journalism are many and varied, but the series
of coincidences which had brought us to a world scoop in this remote place
were almost as unbelievable: read
for yourself and if you doubt the way it happened I can hardly
blame you! The story most certainly does not end here, though, so don’t
miss next month’s instalment of this slightly surreal saga.
Reality is suspended for many days in this region on an annual basis,
a week or more during which youngsters of all ages throw, squirt, shoot
or hose water all over each other in a bizarre, multi-faceted ritual. It’s
called Songkran and it’s the most joyous, refreshing, friendly, light-hearted,
flirtatious, hazardous, over-extended, antagonistic, foolish, juvenile,
uncontrolled and mindless distortion of charming origins you’ll find anywhere
in the world.
You can rely on the braver tourist magazines to end such a list of adjectives
at ‘hazardous’. But as you’ll read in our news
columns, the plain fact is that this alleged festival has become a dangerous
discredit to the region. Accidents amongst motorcyclists soar (the
more vulnerable you are - the more you’re a target); drunken driving knows
no bounds and many Thais will admit that farangs
often bear the brunt of it all. I will never forget the pure aggression
on the faces of very young children who doused me and my Honda Dream at
9.00pm on Charoenprathet two years ago. (It all started as a 2 day event
and water throwing used to end with the daylight!).
The needless deaths and injuries are far too vital to Thailand to dismiss
with a simple "If you don’t like it, stay home; if you’re a farang
then go home!"
Tell that to parents whose small son has lost an eye due to an ice cube
in the bucket, or whose pillion-passenger daughter must be identified at
the morgue. These tragedies need to be addressed at the highest level;
the festival steadily returned to its gentle user-friendly, tourist-friendly
traditions and 2 day duration - and (it should go without saying) the law
enforced.
Several tourists and expats are now locked in Bangkok’s
uncomfortable immigration detention centre because they have over-stayed
their visas. (...).
MISS
SUPAPORN. I am a single girl aged 27, single, 155cms
tall, 50kgs weight, do not drink & do not smoke. I like computers,
tour and travelling. (...).
Deputy
Editor
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