It wouldn’t be a spiritual journey without experiencing a full moon party or at least the after effect of someone elses!
Koh Phangan is famous for full moon, half-moon, partial moon, any kind of moon parties with the twenty somethings. My bungalow was set only a few feet from the beautiful pool and a few more to the Ocean. I could sit and stare at all the beauty surrounding me day after day, the only challenge to this peaceful environment was the party scene. The 20 somethings gathered around the pool day after day, night after night doing what twenty somethings who come to Thailand do, get drunk, get laid and party their asses off. A walk through memory lane perhaps?
The resort was home to these young parties. Why then would I put myself in the middle of such a scene? It was on the trust of a tourist travel agent who seeminly listened to my requests and the journey I was on and what I was looking for, quiet, serene, meditative beauty. I can only assume he wasn’t listening. Perhaps another test of my resolve?
This beautiful blissful property marketed to house this young crowd which meant the bar beside the pool played loud, base thumping music by day and by night, it was constant. Anyone who knows me, knows that this type of music is like fingernails scraping down a chalkboard, my mind goes a bit wild and wants to escape – it begs me to throw my hands over my ears and yell make it stop!
My headphones got a lot of use over the 6 days that I would stay on this property, the Beach Village.
Equanimity in all situations & circumstances? Would this be a test of how far I had actually come? What I have noticed is that the music still bothers me but not in the same way, I could stand it, I could choose something else. I noticed my mind, my body wanting to react as I had before with agitation, irritation, frustration and anger but instead I noticed the familiar and chose to respond rather than react by putting on my headphones, going for a walk, floating in the pool with my ears submerged under the water to drown out the constant pounding beats that sang out of the speakers.
July 1st – Canada Day – Koh Phangan’s half moon party preparations in full swing day and long into the night with the volume of the music getting louder and louder as the twenty somethings gathered poolside in preparation for the pre-party drunk fest right outside my door. The outfits skimpier, the conversations louder, the hoots and hawlers evidence that it was going to be a shit show of epic proportions. I put on my headphones and drowned out the scene until I sleepily crawled into my bed at 12:30 with the party still roaring just outside my door.
I woke the following morning to someone banging on my door, it was still dark outside. In a dreamy, sleepy haze my mind yelling “go away” “stop banging on my door” “kids go back to bed.” I thought I was dreaming but it went on and on, it didn’t stop, it didn’t go away and instead of a child’s voice I heard a woman’s hysterical voice begging for help. “Help me, I don’t know what to do”!
Once I realized it was really happening and there was, in fact, someone banging on my door, I got up and opened the door to find a woman sitting at the bottom of the stairs sobbing, looking up at me with her desperate tear-stained eyes asking for help. I just stared at the sight in front of me wiping the sleep from my eyes, coming into the reality of the moment, I saw an Asian looking woman who was soaking wet, her hair dripping down her tight mini dress, her dirty feet buckled into fancy sandals with mascara smeared under her eyes and sliding down her cheeks . It was bizarre, in one moment there was this hysterical woman crying for help but a second later she was hysterically laughing at the absurdity of what she had done, she was drunk.
She told me her motorbike was in the water, she drove it into the water and she couldn’t get it out she wanted me to help her get it out. Nothing inside of me reacted, I simply listen to her tell me her tale of being at a party, asking to borrow a friend’s scooter to go to 7-11 and buy cigarettes and next thing she knew she was in the ditch with her scooter lodged into the side of the bank. She was shivering. I went inside and grabbed a towel, my cell phone and locked the door. I put the towel over her shivering body as she lead me to the crime scene. She continued both crying and laughing and continuously saying she didn’t know what to do, please help me, I don’t know what to do, her sentences ran into one another, as she worried about her friends not knowing where she was, that this was going to cost a lot of money, that she needed help, she couldn’t call her friends because her phone got wet and she needed to call the police; all running together spewing out of her drunken mouth.
There was little I could do but be there for her and offer whatever comfort I could offer to a drunk woman whose level of reality was far different from my mine. I suggested that she talk to the owners of the property and walked with her up to the house where I thought they might live, never having had any reason to knock on the owner’s door after hours I could only speculate based what I had witnessed during my time at the resort. I told her to go and knock on the door as I stood back and watched. She stumbled up the stairs yelling incoherently, completely unphased by the dog laying on the deck and started hammering on the door, yelling and screaming, help me I need some help, banging on the windows, yelling in her drunken stupor.
I had noticed that the owners had a HUGE black pit bull with thick, well defined muscles and a head the size of a small tiger with a neck thicker than his head. This dog was brought out on a leash once a day and taken for a 5 minute walk down to the Ocean and then was back out of sight. He wore a solid chain around its husky neck and pulled the owner’s arm almost out of her socket during this 5 minute rendezvous each day. I knew that dog was behind one of those doors.
Finally, after a few minutes the door opened and a man poked his head out and started speaking in Thai, continuous streams of words stumbling out of his mouth, I had no idea what he was saying but I could tell by her body language that it was not in support. The massive dog came bounding out of the door and down the steps and toward me, I stood paralyzed. As she stumbled towards me she started petting and playing with the massive beast as thought he were a tiny lap dog and the dog reciprocated with his tail wagging. I tentatively pet his massive head as he stood near me watching this drunk woman sway down the path.
She used my phone and called the police, against my encouraging her that perhaps that was a BAD idea considering she was drunk. She kept saying this is going to cost her a lot of money. She encouraged me to come and see where she had crashed her bike. I walked with this woman weaving side to side until I saw her scooter on the other side of a 5 meter wide ditch. She drove through bushes and bramble before her and her bike flew through the air to land on the other side of the ditch. Only a drunk person could walk away from such an accident without a scratch on her body.
I stood with her waiting for the police but they didn’t come. Instead a bike taxi was driving toward us bringing home another intoxicated twenty something from the night before, she ran out on the road wildly waving her arms begging for help! The two men took pity on her, one not in much better shape than she helped her drag the bike out of the ditch, she was determined to help and jumped back in the sewage water and pushed while the two guys pulled exposing herself in her struggle. I stood watching in utter disbelief. I stayed with her for a few more minutes and then retreated back to my room leaving the drunk woman to wait for the police on her own.
I crawled back into bed and waited for sleep to come.