We drive for more than an hour before we reach our destination: Nakhon Nayok, a province just northeast of Bangkok. It gives me those pleasant, small town vibes I don’t feel very often because I spend most of my days in a concrete jungle. It’s always nice getting out of the city for a bit, even if it’s just for a few hours. I appreciate the fresh air, the abundance of greenery, and the mountains lining the horizon. The beauty of this country never ceases to amaze me.
Everyone is in the raft waiting for me. There are seven boys, all of whom are in the soccer program; Sprite, their coach, my friend, and colleague; and our guide. Because there aren’t too many of us we all fit into one raft. It’s starting to rain, the sky permeated by dark clouds. Although the weather isn’t ideal, people are everywhere, playing in the water, swimming, or resting on the riverbank. I shouldn’t be surprised – Thais are less concerned about these things than Americans are – but I am. Back home, rain means staying indoors and getting cozy. That isn’t the case here, though.
I take a couple obligatory selfies to commemorate the occasion; there’s a group of men nearby and they laugh as they watch me take the photos, but I don’t care. More often than not I’m the only farang around, soI’m used to getting stared at. I hurry to the raft and hop in. Our guide pushes us a little and off we go. Next thing we know, it starts raining… hard. The thunder is so loud it sounds like guns are going off right next to us. The sky flashes like the sun is a light and God’s flicking the switch. I’m shivering because of how cold I am, a rare experience here in Thailand. As we pass people playing in the water they fling water at us, engaging us in water fights. We use our paddles and hands to fling water back at them. With every group we pass and every water fight we engage in I can’t help but think about how communally oriented Thais are. In America, something like this just wouldn’t happen. It’s refreshing, though. Without knowing each other there’s this unspoken bond between people, strangers though they might be.
Eventually the storm stops and we’re not cold anymore. We stop to swim in the water, careful not to slip on the rocks as we make the trek past the shallow parts to where we can raft again. One of the younger boys calls my name, asking for a hand because he’s not quite tall enough to touch the bottom of the river and the current is a little too strong. I give him a hand and together we traverse the rocks, climbing over a fallen tree and swimming the final stretch to get back on the raft.
We get in many more water fights, take a couple more swimming breaks, and before we know it we’re at the end of our seven kilometer route. “That’s it?” I ask Sprite when he tells me we’ve reached the end. We all get out of the raft, the boys stay in the water to play, and Sprite and I collect the lifejackets and helmets. Our guide takes care of the raft and we stay at the river for a while. The boys take turns jumping off a rope swing into the water. A couple women run a food stand, heating up meat on sticks, a common snack here in Thailand. There’s a monkey tied to a tree near the rope swing; it’s the first “wild” monkey I’ve seen here. We enjoy our time together, playing in the water, encouraging one of the younger boys to overcome his fear and jump off the rope swing, and enjoying each others’ presence. In a culture where doing matters less and being is more the norm, it’s a refreshing afternoon that I really need. I’m still learning how to be content in these times, when I’m not doing much of anything other than just being. That being said, I’m grateful for the reminder that rafting in the rain became for me, reminding me that being is okay and I don’t always have to be doing, doing, doing.