Nam tuam means “water floods.”  It is rainy season in Khrungthep and while that in and of itself is quite usual, given the significant rainfall we’ve had in the mountains to the north, the entire Kingdom has been experiencing a slow-moving flood.  First the Chiang Mai area, then Sukhothai, then last week Ayutthaya.  Now Khrungthep is beginning to see the very high waters.  And on a day when it rains heavily, that water – already challenged by an inadequate drainage system and a low elevation – has nowhere to go.

Late afternoon I had coffee with Kazu one soi down from my apartment.  It started raining while we were there and already the water was ankle-deep in some places by the time I headed home.  Standing on the corner trying to figure out the best way to cross the water, dozens of large cockroaches were emerging from the cracks in the pavement and around the utility covers, fleeing the rising tide.  Especially funny (or not) was the way they were running up my pants legs, trying to get to higher ground. 

A few very un-Buddhist flicks of my newspaper sent them flying, to the amusement of three young ladies sitting in their nearby restauran, watching the goings-on.

By the time Tawn finally arrived home from work about 8:00 he told me that the street was flooded.  “Oh, sure,” I said, unimpressed, “it floods every time it rains.”  He insisted that I should go take a look at it and it was indeed much more flooded than I remember previously.

As I arrived on the street, the air was heavy with the smell of gasoline as the sidewalks (those that weren’t flooded) were filled with motorbikes that had stalled in the water.  Owners tried to repair their engines, while others grabbed a bear or two from 7-11 and chatted.  One car had stalled out in my condo’s driveway and the guards were trying to help the owner as he waited for a tow truck to arrive.

Water was running more than 30 cm deep (about 1 foot) and the lower sidewalks (next to the street) were under water.  Thankfully many of the businesses nearby have a second, higher sidewalk in front of the buildings.  So I went around the adjacent buildings, trying to capture some of the images of Khrungthep struggling with what is likely just the first in a wave of floods.

A view from the third floor of the neighboring office bulding shows the extent of the flooding.  The “no right turn” sign is located on the curb of the lower sidewalk, now completely under water.  Telephone boxes become islands.  

Dozens of motorbikes wait out the flood.  Some of the braver (or higher) ones took to the streets, others just waited patiently. 

Despite the large number of people stranded, there was no anger or frustration.  Tawn reported many people laughing and having a good time, office girls taking off their shoes and gigling as they walked along the sidewalks.

One vendor, selling steamed corn from his bicycle-powered cart, worked his way down the street, selling to those standing around.  The catch: to buy an ear you had to wade out to him!

When Tawn was crossing the street he got near the curb but couldn’t tell where it was.  “Sister,” he cried out to a passing pedestrain, “where’s the edge of the sidewalk?”  She replied that she was standing just on the edge and held out a hand to help guide him up.

Thankfully, Tawn had a pair of flip-flops in the office – many Thais shed their nice shoes and instead wear flip-flops around the office – and so he used these on the trip home, carrying his shoes.  He reported that at the Skytrain station, announcements were being made to kindly remind passengers to please wear their shoes while in the station and on the trains.