BIF (Bangkok it's Friday)

Another productive day... or not. As usual the highlight of my day was going to the market. The market I go to most often is about 3 blocks from the apartment complex. On Fridays it is bigger and better than any other day (although I cannot vouch for Saturday yet as I have not been there on a Saturday. This will be my first full weekend in Bangkok.)

Let me give you the run down on the Friday Market. It starts with my walk to the market. This is a leisurely stroll in the 36 degree Celsius evening air. It was about 5:40pm when I left the apartment complex, and I was sure to stay to the edge of the sidewalk/walkway to allow motorcycles (and heaven forbid, cars) to get past me without running me over. There was the occasional bicycle that passed me too. I nervously looked in all directions before crossing driveways and alleys to further avoid being hit my a fast moving vehicle. They can come out of nowhere. I weaved around obstacles: phone booths, poles, shrubs, street-dogs, and their droppings. Closer to the market motorcycles are parked along the walkway making the way even narrower. The good news is once inside the market there are no motorcyles. The area is further congested with heavy foot traffic: anxious mothers with hands filled with bags of goods, smiling fathers holding small children, school age children still in school uniforms.

A huge square tent serves as a roof over the area that sells foods of all sorts. You can get raw or cooked foods, spices, produce, fish, bulk items, candy, desserts, and drinks of all kinds. It is legal to walk around in public with open alcohol so this is not out of the question. One popular stand sells bubble tea and drinks with slabs of jello in them. I gaze at them curiously, but unable to order these drinks with ease due to the set up of the stand and my lack of Thai, I move on. Other booths sell juice, pop, and mixed alcoholic drinks with ice in clear plastic bags. There are tables sprawled with fresh vegetables and fruits, some that I have no names for.



(I suggest if you are squeamish or vegetarian that you skip this paragraph.) There are tables with fish on ice, and others that are stainless steel with fish and eels wriggling on their surfaces gasping for air. A particularly strong looking Thai woman is standing next to them with a cleaver. Crabs are sitting with their claws held against their bodies with elastic bands. Whole squid soak in tubs of water. I gaze into a huge bowl covered with a net to see some of the yellow toads that live in the apartment complex breathing shallowly. Disgusted, I move on. A woman is chopping up bits of animals I don't recognize. Goose necks hang on strings. Some booths sell whole chickens. Other chickens lay with the meat taken off, organs exposed on the skeletons. Other tables have salted and dried fish. Hot dogs, meat balls on skewers, crab skewers, and sausages wrapped in bacon cook on grills. Meat marinated in more types of sauces than I can name are sold on skewers as well.

Vats of bubbling soups and curries assail my nose with delicious smells. Stir fried mixtures sit in tub after tub, each one different. A woman sells meats, eggs, and vegetables over noodles or rice. 10 Baht. Another woman sells noodles of all varieties mixed with delicious looking vegetables. 12 Baht. I did in my wallet, pointing to what I want. She points at parmesan cheese, then chili peppers, and hot sauce. Do I want these? I decline the hot sauce knowing there is about a 75% chance the food is already very spicy. (It would be more likely 95% had it been a stirfry type dish.) Two women sell round cakes of sticky rice of different colours. A man stands by what looks like a row of candy machines filled with bulk items. Women sell bags of spices and condiments out of tubs. "Sawadee krab" my favorite fruit man greets me as I eye his ripe rambutans."Sawadee ka" I return, sad that I must not buy anymore fruit until I finish the last of my yellow mangoes. Another woman selling noodles greets me also. There are pots of corn on the cob boiling. Steam from huge metal rice steamers washes over me at waist level, as I walk further I am hit by a cool breeze from a fan. The market is packed because it is Friday. I wrack my brains for the word for excuse me but it has slipped my mind. I feel foolish and have to wait for people to move on their own. The people behind me are not impressed and pass me as soon as they can. There is a man selling fresh spices and strange looking funghi. Eggs from unknown animals are also sold. I am slightly surprised not to see any bugs. A few women sell doughnuts, cakes and pastries. Other women sell puddings and custards in squares.

There is a woman singing. I am not certain but I think she might be blind. She has a beautiful singing voice. Every night she is there. Another woman walks around selling lottery tickets. A man with a prosthetic leg sits on the ground, begging. I am sad but do not give him money. Often there are people who drop off people with disabilities and profit off whatever money they make that evening. If I could know this money would actually go to this man I would give him something.



Out in the open air smaller tents are set up, and tables without even an umbrella. One sells goldfish in plastic bags. Another sells showerheads. One sells belts and hunting knives. Many sell clothes for men, women, and children. 10 Baht for a pair of underwear one sign displays boldly. A large stall sells laundry detergent, paper towel, and other cleaning supplies. Other stalls sell jewellery, and still more sell candles, incense, and little Buddhas. There are pots and pans, cooking utensils, spoons, forks, and chopsticks. There are teapots and pitchers for iced tea. There are cds and dvds and stands playing music. Merchants call after me, trying to sell their wares. There is everything you could want or need. Having found food I head back towards the apartment. Families are sitting in the grass between the walkway and the busy highway enjoying picnic dinners of items from the market.



The sun is sinking low in the sky and the clouds are a vibrant pastel peach colour. I stop for a green tea latte over ice at a vendor outside the gates to my complex. A few small vendors sell their usual items from in front of the 7-11 a block down. Motorcycle taxis with drivers in purple or orange vests wait to take people home. I smile at the two boys of the security guard, sitting in the little booth by the gate still in school uniforms. They babble at me excitedly in Thai, which I wish I could understand. I walk past the swimming pool and the water filling station. Past the meditation area and the main office. Some of the other teachers are playing outdoor table tennis. The basketball court is empty as usual. I walk across it to my building.