40: When Nature Disrupts Your Routine: Reflections from the Chiang Mai Floods

They say life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. In Chiang Mai, 2024, Mother Nature decided to prove that point in the most literal way possible. The city, known for its temples, markets, and laid-back vibes, was turned into a sprawling, soggy mess. Floodwaters swept through streets, leaving everything from shops to apartments under murky depths, disrupting the lives of thousands. The floods didn’t care if you had a big presentation, a gym schedule, or just wanted to enjoy your morning coffee.

For me, personally, the impact was inconvenient but manageable. My condo is on the 14th floor, safe from the rising water. But "safe" is relative when the building has no power, no water, and the streets below resemble rivers more than roads. Going back home isn't an option yet—so I've been living like a nomad in my own city, bouncing from temporary shelters, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

When nature disrupts your routine, it hits you on all fronts. One minute, you’ve got your day planned out—gym in the morning, work at the office, coffee at your favorite spot—and the next, you’re scrambling for basics. With the gym shut and my office inaccessible, the comforting structure of my days washed away like, well, everything else in the flood. There’s a stark reminder here: no matter how tight we schedule our lives, nature doesn’t care about our routines.

And while my troubles are frustrating, they’re nothing compared to what some people are dealing with. Think about the shop owners downtown whose businesses were submerged under three feet of water. Their struggles go beyond inconvenience—livelihoods were washed away in hours. Imagine spending years building a business, only to see it all turn into a waterlogged mess overnight. Now, as the water recedes, they’re faced with the daunting task of clearing out thick layers of mud and silt. It’s not just a clean-up; it’s starting over.

According to local reports, more than 10,000 residents have been displaced by the flooding, and initial estimates suggest damages could reach upwards of 500 million baht (about $14 million USD). A study published after the 2011 Bangkok floods, which hit similarly, showed that over 80% of small businesses took at least a year to recover from the economic blow. In a city like Chiang Mai, where many shops are family-owned, that’s a staggering figure—especially when you consider how tourism has just started bouncing back post-pandemic.

And if you think it's just about water, think again. Floodwaters don’t just soak everything; they bring in debris, bacteria, and a toxic sludge that makes any clean-up effort a nightmare. One shop owner I spoke to described the scene like a "mud tsunami," covering everything from cash registers to coffee machines. And without power or clean water, the recovery process becomes an uphill battle that many aren’t prepared for.

There's something humbling about seeing a city grind to a halt. It’s like nature’s way of reminding us that we’re not as in control as we think. We build high-rises, lay roads, and create routines, but in the face of a natural disaster, all that structure is as fragile as a sandcastle. And it’s not just the physical environment that takes a hit—it's our mental state too. Disruption chips away at our sense of normalcy, forcing us to adapt, to find new ways to go about our day.

For many, the real challenge lies in finding hope amid the mess. It’s in the small acts of kindness you witness: neighbors helping to scoop out muddy water from shops, volunteers delivering food to those stranded, and people offering their homes as temporary shelters. These are the moments that make you realize how resilient a community can be when pushed to its limits.

If there’s one thing the Chiang Mai floods have shown, it’s that no matter how much we try to control our surroundings, sometimes, we just have to let go and adapt. It’s like being stuck in a downpour without an umbrella—sure, you can curse the rain, or you can roll up your pants, kick off your shoes, and enjoy the puddles. Because when nature decides to take over, complaining doesn’t get you anywhere. Adaptation does.

And let’s face it, this isn't the first time nature has messed with our plans, and it won’t be the last. So, while the city dries out and rebuilds, I’ll be here—waiting for my condo to regain power, catching up on my missed gym sessions, and hoping the next “routine disruption” is just a slow internet day. After all, I’ve learned that while you can’t predict when nature will throw a wrench in your plans, you can always count on it to keep things interesting.