The post of a thousand titles... Part I

This weekend has been a ridiculous mix of amazing highs and terrible, terrible lows. As the weekend progressed, I rattled dozens of possible titles through my head, none of which could hope to capture what has happened to me... This will be a long post.
It has been a while since my last post. Trevor has been in town which has occupied much of my time, and we moved to a new part of Bangkok where Internet access is more expensive and less accessible... and I've been a bit lazy and not much has happened...
But! On Thursday night, Trevor sent me a message telling me that the following evening in Nong Khai, a small town in northeast Thailand, there would be the bang fhaa naak nom festival. Once per year, so legend says, a gateway to the underworld opens up under the Mekhong river allowing the Nagas who live there to breathe balls of fire out of the river and into the air. Of course, there are various scientific theories about what the balls actually are, but nothing has been proven.
So, I hoped on a bus--totally unplanned--on Friday morning and began my 11 hour trip to Nong Khai. The bus for the majority of the trip, from Bangkok to Udon Thani, was very luxurious. Meals were served, the seats afforded plenty of room, and there were movies played. Despite the length it was certainly bearable.
Eventually I reached Nong Khai, only to find out that the festival was actually an hour away in Pon Pisai and started in 2 hours. I panicked and got a tuk tuk (rickshaw) to a recommended guest house which was full. Posted on the door was a sign "If you are going to the fireball festival, be in the courtyard by 1:30. Due to traffic we will have to leave early in order to make it on time."
Needless to say I panicked. It was nearly 6:00. Could I possibly make it to the festival so late? I ran to the road and got another tuk tuk back to the bus station where I immediately got on a bus to Pon Pisai. I talked to a few people on the way, asking the sorts of questions you would expect. Have you been before? Do you know when to get off? Where did you come from? I was the only westerner on the bus, and the Thais didn't seem the least bit concerned about making it on time, which was very relieving.
I arrived at the Pon Pisai bus station a little after 7 and got a tuk tuk to the festival which, truthfully, I could have walked to. I wandered around what appeared more like a county fair than a spiritual festival, with food stalls, cheap toy vendors, various mini-stages and displays set up by companies like Nokia, real estate agents, etc., all spanning the length of the Mekhong river where people were seated and standing by the thousands staring out into the river.
I began to wander around, realizing that truly, there was no need to have hurried. The festival was obviously here for the evening. Although I may not get a great seat, the river was visible from quite a ways a way and the slope allowed for plenty of people. I wandered up and down the river, talking to people and looking for the mythic bursts of flame. After a couple hours, I began to ask around, and chatted with various thai families, groups of drunk teenagers, and 1 or 2 fellow foreigners. No one had seen any yet. I was told by one gentleman from England that the last time he was here they started at 9:20... it was 9:45, they must be late he concluded.
10:00 came, then 10:30, and finally 11... still no fireballs. People were beginning to give up, the festival was emptying. I had no hotel and all the ones in Pon Pisai were booked full (tents were scattered about the river and on vacant lots everywhere). I had traveled 13 hours for nothing.
After 11:00 I decided to make my way to the bank of the river and sleep in one of the few unlittered patches of grass (left behind by some large families' mat). And then, the worst thing ever happened.
I took one step, then another, on the stadium seating-type cemented levels. On the second step there had been some stones jutting out of the cement, my foot landed just wrong, twisted, and the next moment I was on the floor in shock from the pain.
Some English speakers were nearby and asked if I was okay. In my sock and embarrassment I said yes, I would be fine. Eventually they left, asking once more and once more I said I would be fine, and then I was left alone. There were a few groups of drunks around me who assumed I must be drunker, and began to laugh and say something about the farang in Thai.
I must have been there, lying on the cement for a half hour to an hour. Filled with a torturing mixture of shock, terror, and pain, and totally hopeless. What would I do? Where would I go? I could crawl further down, and sleep on the grass hoping to be better by morning, but then I would only have further to climb up if I wasn't.
I could go up, hope to make it to a tuk tuk (at least a block or two away) with my heavy bag... or should I leave my bag? If I did make it to a tuk tuk, then what? Hotel? none to go to. Bus straight to Bangkok? Would there even be one this late? Hospital? No insurance, how much would it cost?
Finally, I decided the bank of the Mekhong was not the best choice. Still unsure of what I was doing. I made my way to the top of "steps," and froze. I saw a few motor bikes go by, but didn't feel confident enough to ask for a lift, or confident that I could ride one with my ankle, and eventually began to hobble down the street with a bag full of clothes and books.
About halfway down the block, I saw three white guys sitting with a Thai family. Maybe they could help? I looked at them, and they tried their best to ignore me. The Thai family, however, wasn't going to let me pass. I was adopted, thank god.
They gave me a place to sit, and showered me with (mostly unwanted) kindness and hospitality. They insisted on giving me sodas and beer, which could not be refused. Nor could the pressing of the ice into my ankle (which was torturous), nor the foot massage (which was skilled and not as bad).
I had essentially been given a harem. 6-10 women, all doting on me, flirting with me, telling me how handsome I was. Asking if I had a girlfriend. I said "yes." Was it serious? Where was she? Was she Thai? Did I want a Thai girlfriend? They wanted Farang husbands... Did I like them? Did I like the lady-boy in the back? What about the man to my left?
"No, no thank you. Yes, we're very serious. You are just as beautiful but I love her more."
Finally, they offered me a place to sleep. I would be sharing a tent with someone's son, who looked none to pleased, but he seemed to be a generally angsty teenager and not upset about this particular situation, just life in general. So, I said yes, if it was okay with him.
I awoke the next morning, trapped by the sleeper. I waited for him to shift so that I could crawl around him, and hobbled to the nearest chair where I sat for about an hour. One of the white men, who I learned were from Norway, was still awake with one of the women. They were enjoying a breakfast of beer and potato chips. Eventually I made my way to their table, and was trapped once again.
"Are you okay? Foot better?"
"No, I need crutches, where can I get crutches?"
No further discussion. Forced to drink coke and eat potato chips. I was asked several times throughout the morning if I was hungry, if I was better. If I said yes, I'm hungry, they just smiled. If I said I need to go to the hospital, they just smiled. I didn't want to impose, but I was completely trapped.
The Norwegian tried to convince me not to go to the hospital... to wait it out. Put tiger balm and ice on it and I would be fine. As nice as they were being, I was not excited about being trapped with them for 3-4 days. "No, I need to get crutches."
Later, the other two Norwegians joined the table. One was quiet enough, but the other was visibly upset. Eventually, he went into some sort of tirade, gesturing towards me and saying the word American in between all the Norwegian babble. He got to the point where I though he would cry, or stab me, and then put his hands down and began eating his breakfast and looking hopeless. Definitely not the actions of a stable, rational person. I can only guess that he thought I was imposing, but the way they were treating this family it was hard to take it seriously. They ordered them about like servants, not a single please or thank you as they informed them they wanted breakfast, or more coffee, or this or that. I was certainly the more gracious guest.
Eventually I was told someone would take me to the hospital. With every passing hour I asked "can you just get me a tuk tuk, I'll be fine." No, they insisted, Pi will take you, 10 minutes. 20 minues. 10 minutes. 15 minutes.
Finally, Pi arrived with his wife and they took me to the hospital. I got my x-ray, my ace bandage, some painkillers, and blessedly, crutches. The whole thing cost about 500 baht, 15 dollars. Thank God.
They began to take me back to the house in a tuk tuk and I asked to be dropped off at the bus station. I'd had enough hospitality for one day. Everyone I met was immensely helpful, I made it back to Nong Khai, and made my way to the Mut Mee guest house which had been full the night before, but looked like the type of place I could get some help.
The owner (a farang) was wonderful. He called a guest house nearby and got me a room. Two other guests offered to carry my bag for me and accompanied me to the Ruang Thai. The people at the guest house looked shocked. The owner of the Mut mee hadn't told them about the crutches, the room they had was on the second floor.
I said I could manage, but they insisted otherwise and arranged a first floor room for me, helped me carry my bags. I would have to move the next day, but again, they would help me. I laid down for a bit, ate, took my painkiller, and finally felt better.

That's only half of it!
To be Continued!!!