Let Dam Be Damn

The water is finally drying in Ko Kret. For once, life pretends to be normal again. Kids are back in school, the middle-aged are back at work, and the elders return to paying respects to the royalties. Happiness tiptoes back in — but guilt walks right beside it, hand in hand.

Because while Ko Kret breathes again, the 2025 flood didn’t stop here. It rolled down into the south, swallowing homes, stranding dogs and cats, turning valuables into trash, and reducing priorities we once held tightly into nothing. During a flood, hope floats, anxiety clings like wet jeans, and we learn quickly that only life truly matters.

Growing up next to the water, floods were my enemy in disguise. The river rises, and everyone cheers — abundance, fish, kids swimming all day, endless excitement. But then the water creeps past the banks, onto your belongings, into your home, around your loved ones, and eventually into your fear.

I’ve cursed the water management powers more times than I’ve cursed my exes. Every year, the same flood. The same economic slump. The same people who never fully recover. If you’ve never lived through a flood, you don’t realize how hard it is to start your life after one.

Eventually, I realized something painful:
It’s impossible to prevent floods completely.
Heavy rain, storm surges, earthquakes — nature has its own temper. I’ve tried yelling at the river once, negotiating with it, even offering it beer. None of it worked.

So the real goal is risk management — preventing floods where we can, minimizing the damage where we can’t. That means dams and reservoirs, sure, but also land-use planning and early warning systems.

But risk management is an alien concept in Thailand. Instead, we survive by learning to live with water. Like the Dutch — they don’t fight it; they design around it. Floating houses. Streets that redirect flow. Boats that carry groceries instead of frustration. They dance with the river instead of screaming at it.

That’s wisdom. That’s survival. That’s magic.

Thailand needs less hard engineering and more soft, natural solutions. More trust in nature, less brute force.

Just like life. Some problems won’t be fixed by building a dam, controlling someone else, or forcing outcomes. Sometimes you just have to float, steer your own little boat, and paddle through the mess.

Sometimes holding everything together breaks you.
Sometimes letting it break saves you.

Let the rivers flow where they will.
Let what’s meant to break, break — and what’s meant to flow, flow.

The world will still spill over, crash, and overwhelm you. But you’ll still be swimming — gracefully, awkwardly, stubbornly… but swimming.

And one day, you might even laugh with the water. Because after everything, the river and I… we’re two old friends who survived each other.

And when that happens, I hope we can be seen — you and me — somewhere along the river.