Ko Pha-Ngan, Thailand
I’ll admit it, I’ve avoided writing about these past two days. However, it’s not because of the nightly festivities, which were filled with island-sized parties, because I maintained a decent composure throughout them. In fact, I have a cute story to tell, but that’s just the problem. I don’t usually delve into this type of topic on a public space. Especially not on the internet. But I guess that’s an important component of blogging: learning to be more open.
June 8th and 9th were the nights of the Jungle and Full Moon Parties, respectfully. Or not so respectfully because when you get thousands of drunk tourists together from all around the world, respectful isn’t the top descriptor of the group. Backpackers come to this island with one idea in mind: to see the Full Moon Party.
The Full Moon Party is a giant festival on Sairee Beach with multiple DJs booths and 30,000 people dancing through the sunrise. The Jungle Party is almost just as big, but instead it occurs within -- take a guess -- the middle of the jungle. The main DJ plays music onstage within the manufactured jaws of some giant animal.
With descriptions like that, the word “cute” is also often ignored. I’m surprised myself that it could be so useful for the last few days.
Before the parties began, you coulddd use the word cute to describe our hostel. After hours of lounging on the beach and exploring the seaside town, the other guests and I started getting ready for the parties at the same time. It was cute to see girls compliment each other excitedly, all piled within the hostel’s only bathroom and squeezing together to do makeup or apply face paint in the few mirrors. Once the girls rotated out, all the boys came in to shave. I haven’t seen people get ready like this since prepping for my middle school dances, and even those were less busy.
The Jungle Party
The Jungle Party occurred the day before the main event, but again, it was easily just as crowded. Roxanne and I made sure to keep each other safe at this large event by planning meeting points if separated and promising each other to avoid unsafe situations. It was when we reached the first meeting point together, locating it as a duo to make sure we could find it without the other if necessary, that “cute” first began to apply.
We took off our shoes, preparing to leave them at this little hut ($2 flip flops were not the best footwear at this party) when we walked right next to the German guy I met at Fishbowl in Ko Tao. I’ll call him Mond for privacy’s sake and because that’s the only German word I can remember of the (many, oops) he taught me.
Out of almost 30,000 people, we just ran into this guy and his friends from a whole other island. Crazy. And -- can I say it -- cute.
We hung out the rest of the night, dancing together and just having a fun time. He voluntarily held my shoes to prevent them from getting lost throughout it all.
The Full Moon Party
The next night, I lost my shoes anyway. Nice. The Full Moon Party was chaotic and busy and loud and filled with alcohol. I wish there was some way to learn the collective blood alcohol level of the entire beach. THAT would be an interesting science fair project, kids. Is DARE looking for a new platform any time soon?
Walking up and down this beach, we met people from all over the world, ranging from Argentina to Poland to Uruguay to France. The place got way too crowded for me at some points, but it was still an interesting experience. However, what is that saying about the busier the location the closer the circle?
Around 4:30 a.m., Roxanne and I were in front of the Cactus DJ booth. Dancing there, we ran right into Mond once more.
Someone get me the statistics on this: what are the chances that we would run into the same guy at three different parties, where the smallest group of the night added up to several hundred people? And the biggest two had around 30,000?
We danced together and snuck into a half-sunk boat a few blocks away, talking and looking at the full moon. We watched the sunrise on the beach after, and then separated to probably never see each other again.
But then again, that’s what I thought the first time as well. And the second. Who knows what will happen come next full moon.
Okay, okay, I know one thing for sure: I will not be at a Full Moon Party. One for me is definitely enough. As we head to Malaysia tomorrow, I will avoid any and all parties. Time for the vacation from my vacation -- filled with beach bumming and going out -- to end. I honestly can’t wait to explore a new city and culture once more.