Written by: Eng Sze Jia.
Of course, I could have chosen to stay back at the guest house to catch up on sleep and avoid the crowd, but what a waste it would have been if I had done so, instead of being out there to witness a sea of supporters of Holland and Spain! If there is one area of knowledge I fail in, it’s my knowledge in soccer. And with that, the existence of the World Cup has systematically marginalized me from all its hype and daily conversations with people who would ramble on and on about the matches that happened the previous night.
Unlike mamaks back home, the vibrant Chiang Mai night life is filled with great bars and taverns that are frequented by many tourists and backpackers. The main reason why I decided to go out that fateful night was because my roomies convinced me that by staying back I would be missing out on a chance to witness a moment in world cup history a) in another country, b) with this sort of company, and c) in a place like Thailand. We did not need to endure an extra hour of sleeplessness that night, since the time in Thailand is one hour behind Malaysia.
But on a more honest note, I am a skeptic of the (in)famous Paul the octopus. I went out also because, along with my bunch of friends, I really wanted to watch it predict the results of the match wrongly. As soon as we walked down the lane into the main road, we saw a sea of people who were wearing orange and crowding in front of the The Wall - a Holland bar, whose existence is not surprising, since Chiang Mai is frequented by many Europeans. There was also an Irish bar just across the road, situated at the opposite of the Holland bar. A litter of red stood here and there seemingly unperturbed. The orange people kept on coming; climbing out of tuk-tuks and zooming around with scooters flocking the area.
In our troop of seven, there were two Spain supporters; decked in the Spanish jersey, we braved the stares as we walked past one bar after another and cheered with fellow Spanish supporters.
Since the bar that we planned to go had its crowd spilling into Ratwithi Road, we walked around in search of a cosy place that could accommodate us (and our rather tight budget) somewhere nearby. We finally settled at John’s Place two blocks away from the screaming Holland fans. We sat at the balcony, where we were greeted by the beautiful night scenery of Chiang Mai’s historical moat.
The part that affected me the most was that tourists were complete strangers to one another but became friends through undignified collective euphoria. A howl would echo in unison every time the team missed a goal. In addition, we were united in a lack of comprehension of Thai commentary. Yet the occasional names mentioned in English gave us a sense of place. It made us feel like we had finally arrived in Thailand. As I occasionally glanced at the road while watching the match, I noticed there was barely any traffic.
With beer in one hand and clenched fist in the other, Spain’s goals were an emotional release for those who had been supporting Spain, and also for those who wanted to go to bed. As many thank yous, goodbyes and profanities were exchanged, it was a pity that the two Spanish supporters had to wade their way through a sea of orange. Such is fate that they had the last laugh. The Octopus was right. Blast!
We can only speculate if the magic of the octopus would continue to live on.
Showing posts with label Day 4. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Day 4. Show all posts
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
Diary Entry: Day 4
Written By: Marsella Agatha.
After three activity-filled days of learning about and exploring Chiang Mai, the fourth day of the study trip was ours to do as we pleased. At approximately six am, a few members of our group were up early to see the monks go about their morning ritual of collecting alms. However many of the group decided to forego the opportunity and sleep in instead.
After brunch, the members of the In Search of Chiang Mai group separated to spend the day pursuing their own interests. As yesterday was spent cycling around the city, a few of us indulged in Thai massages hoping to rub the exhaustion away, eager to re-energize themselves for the rest of the trip. The Saman dancers on the other hand decided to indulge in some light exercise as they rehearsed for their performance on the last day hoping to perfect the routine. Lochna decided to take part in a Thai cooking class learning to make dishes like the traditional green curry and even learning how to make spring rolls.
In the afternoon, many of us made our way to the Sunday market which started outside the three king’s museum and extended out until one of the gates of the old fort wall. Filled with a number of trinkets and souvenirs we spent hours fulfilling our shopping addiction. An interesting and embarrassing incident that occurred while the members of the Saman dance were bargaining for sarongs when they suddenly realised that everyone around them had gone both quiet and still. It turned out that the Thai national anthem - the Phleng Chat Thai - was playing to signify the opening of the market. This patriotism and nationalistic feeling present in the Thai people was simply amazing as they stopped everything they were doing in order to show respect to their king and country.
Another anecdote that occurred at the Sunday market definitely put a ‘spark’ in the evening’s adventures as a stall’s light bulb exploded next to Anthea when she stopped to examine a bag she found interesting. What was most amusing was the fact that through the smoke and flames she was found to be holding on to the bag, protecting it from harm. Truly a bag to die for?
Even in the short time we have been here the city, its diversity in terms of its culture, food, historical places, breath-taking architecture and scenery never cease to amaze me. With three more days left to discover Chiang Mai, we hope this is enough time for us to dig up more knowledge and discover new sides to the city. The FIFA world cup final between Spain and Holland provides the perfect ending to another day in search of Chiang Mai.
After three activity-filled days of learning about and exploring Chiang Mai, the fourth day of the study trip was ours to do as we pleased. At approximately six am, a few members of our group were up early to see the monks go about their morning ritual of collecting alms. However many of the group decided to forego the opportunity and sleep in instead.
Young monks
After brunch, the members of the In Search of Chiang Mai group separated to spend the day pursuing their own interests. As yesterday was spent cycling around the city, a few of us indulged in Thai massages hoping to rub the exhaustion away, eager to re-energize themselves for the rest of the trip. The Saman dancers on the other hand decided to indulge in some light exercise as they rehearsed for their performance on the last day hoping to perfect the routine. Lochna decided to take part in a Thai cooking class learning to make dishes like the traditional green curry and even learning how to make spring rolls.
Sipping on Thai iced tea
In the afternoon, many of us made our way to the Sunday market which started outside the three king’s museum and extended out until one of the gates of the old fort wall. Filled with a number of trinkets and souvenirs we spent hours fulfilling our shopping addiction. An interesting and embarrassing incident that occurred while the members of the Saman dance were bargaining for sarongs when they suddenly realised that everyone around them had gone both quiet and still. It turned out that the Thai national anthem - the Phleng Chat Thai - was playing to signify the opening of the market. This patriotism and nationalistic feeling present in the Thai people was simply amazing as they stopped everything they were doing in order to show respect to their king and country.
Another anecdote that occurred at the Sunday market definitely put a ‘spark’ in the evening’s adventures as a stall’s light bulb exploded next to Anthea when she stopped to examine a bag she found interesting. What was most amusing was the fact that through the smoke and flames she was found to be holding on to the bag, protecting it from harm. Truly a bag to die for?
Saman rehearsal
Jelly paradise
Bangles at the Sunday market
Even in the short time we have been here the city, its diversity in terms of its culture, food, historical places, breath-taking architecture and scenery never cease to amaze me. With three more days left to discover Chiang Mai, we hope this is enough time for us to dig up more knowledge and discover new sides to the city. The FIFA world cup final between Spain and Holland provides the perfect ending to another day in search of Chiang Mai.
Stillness of Faith
Written By: Wui Jia
Stillness is the day that takes its first breath.
That is, before one is greeted by the sound of shuffling footsteps.
A monk clad in orange robes walks down the path, hands clutching a metal bowl. Like clockwork, two women, a graying elderly lady and a middle aged lady, coincidentally appear at the gateway of a coffeehouse, holding food packets for almsgiving. The monk stops at the coffeehouse, and both women gingerly place the food offering into the metal bowl he has been holding. Then, dropping to their knees, the women bow and clasp their hands in an attitude of prayer. The monk chants, his voice undulating like incoming waves that hit the shore with the grace of flowing silk. Hypnotic.
As the sleepy morning stirs in its early hours, the road gently bustles with a flurry of activity. Food stalls erected along the road display a vast array of instant noodle packets, bananas, cooked rice, chap choy styled vegetables, and dok bua or lotus flowers. Itinerant sellers of birds that flop in baskets and eels that slither in plastic bags of water walk up to passersby, offering live goods that wait to be liberated into their natural habitats. Monks solemnly walk past the food stalls, occasionally stopping to receive offering from customers who have just made their purchases from the stalls. On bended knees, devotees close their eyes in meditated bliss, allowing waves of blessing pronounced by chanting monks to wash over them.
“By giving the monk the offering, you are telling your dead mother or father, ‘Here is some food for you in heaven’,” says Juree (one of our student guide’s) describing the symbolism of almsgiving. Upon the bestowing of alms to monks, the devotee holds dead relatives in memory, worshipping family that has passed on via the ritual of food offering. Unlike conventional Western practices of mourning, the deceased are consistently acknowledged in public enactments of rituals and practices.
Phra Kru Srivichai, one of the most venerated monks in Chiang Mai who had contributed widely to the community, passed away in the year 1938. Yet, today, pilgrims burn incense with an uncanny devotion as they visit his shrine at seven in the morning, gracing his golden statue with fresh garlands of flowers. While his embalmed body remains seated in a posture of meditated serenity in Wat Phra Singh, followers pay homage to his golden form at the foot of Doi Suthep (the word doi means mountain in Thai). Phra Kru Srivichai was known for his noble, selfless character; he reportedly helped the poor and the sick, refusing to accept gifts and offering them to the needy instead. He defied authorities of his time by ordaining monks without obtaining official permission. He also built schools, hospitals and roads. One of his most famous projects was the building of a road up the Doi Suthep, leading to a temple that contains the relics of Buddha.
While other devotees gravitate towards the magnetic golden figure, offering food and joss sticks at the altar before kneeling down in reverent awe to petition their personal desires, monks collect alms from devotees along the road of Suthep. A jogger, glistening in sweat, unhesitantly halts his run upon seeing one of the monks. He makes a purchase of food offering and places the offering into the metallic bowl. After kneeling down to receive a pronouncement of blessing, the jogger casually resumes his run, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Such is the fluidity in which the practice of charity is woven into the lives of believers.
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference.” Robert Frost’s poem is commonly taken to imply non-conformism. People like Phra Kru Srivichai probably identify with the road not taken. Corporations jostle one another unabashedly, vying for the greedy eyes of the consumer looking at the world through the candy flavoured prism of materialistic success. We grow emptier as we attempt to fulfill our own worldly desires, resulting in an outbreak of depression and other diseases of the soul. Perhaps life would be more meaningful if we offered to fill the bowls of other lives instead of attempting to fill the bottomless ones that so profoundly characterize our dissatisfied existence.
Stillness is the day that takes its first breath.
That is, before one is greeted by the sound of shuffling footsteps.
A monk clad in orange robes walks down the path, hands clutching a metal bowl. Like clockwork, two women, a graying elderly lady and a middle aged lady, coincidentally appear at the gateway of a coffeehouse, holding food packets for almsgiving. The monk stops at the coffeehouse, and both women gingerly place the food offering into the metal bowl he has been holding. Then, dropping to their knees, the women bow and clasp their hands in an attitude of prayer. The monk chants, his voice undulating like incoming waves that hit the shore with the grace of flowing silk. Hypnotic.
Juree receiving blessings from a young monk
As the sleepy morning stirs in its early hours, the road gently bustles with a flurry of activity. Food stalls erected along the road display a vast array of instant noodle packets, bananas, cooked rice, chap choy styled vegetables, and dok bua or lotus flowers. Itinerant sellers of birds that flop in baskets and eels that slither in plastic bags of water walk up to passersby, offering live goods that wait to be liberated into their natural habitats. Monks solemnly walk past the food stalls, occasionally stopping to receive offering from customers who have just made their purchases from the stalls. On bended knees, devotees close their eyes in meditated bliss, allowing waves of blessing pronounced by chanting monks to wash over them.
Lotus flowers as offerings to Buddha
“By giving the monk the offering, you are telling your dead mother or father, ‘Here is some food for you in heaven’,” says Juree (one of our student guide’s) describing the symbolism of almsgiving. Upon the bestowing of alms to monks, the devotee holds dead relatives in memory, worshipping family that has passed on via the ritual of food offering. Unlike conventional Western practices of mourning, the deceased are consistently acknowledged in public enactments of rituals and practices.
Phra Kru Srivichai, one of the most venerated monks in Chiang Mai who had contributed widely to the community, passed away in the year 1938. Yet, today, pilgrims burn incense with an uncanny devotion as they visit his shrine at seven in the morning, gracing his golden statue with fresh garlands of flowers. While his embalmed body remains seated in a posture of meditated serenity in Wat Phra Singh, followers pay homage to his golden form at the foot of Doi Suthep (the word doi means mountain in Thai). Phra Kru Srivichai was known for his noble, selfless character; he reportedly helped the poor and the sick, refusing to accept gifts and offering them to the needy instead. He defied authorities of his time by ordaining monks without obtaining official permission. He also built schools, hospitals and roads. One of his most famous projects was the building of a road up the Doi Suthep, leading to a temple that contains the relics of Buddha.
Passers by stopping to do prayers
While other devotees gravitate towards the magnetic golden figure, offering food and joss sticks at the altar before kneeling down in reverent awe to petition their personal desires, monks collect alms from devotees along the road of Suthep. A jogger, glistening in sweat, unhesitantly halts his run upon seeing one of the monks. He makes a purchase of food offering and places the offering into the metallic bowl. After kneeling down to receive a pronouncement of blessing, the jogger casually resumes his run, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Such is the fluidity in which the practice of charity is woven into the lives of believers.
Monks lining up to receive donations
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference.” Robert Frost’s poem is commonly taken to imply non-conformism. People like Phra Kru Srivichai probably identify with the road not taken. Corporations jostle one another unabashedly, vying for the greedy eyes of the consumer looking at the world through the candy flavoured prism of materialistic success. We grow emptier as we attempt to fulfill our own worldly desires, resulting in an outbreak of depression and other diseases of the soul. Perhaps life would be more meaningful if we offered to fill the bowls of other lives instead of attempting to fill the bottomless ones that so profoundly characterize our dissatisfied existence.
More Than Just Lady-Boys and Go-Go Girls
Written By: Lisa Bradley
Thailand is a country of many reputations, its strong sense of sexual liberation being amongst the most eminent. This reputation is not unjustified as lady-boys and go-go girls cover the entire country - arguably being more concentrated in Bangkok than in any other part of the world. But when one considers the city of Chiang Mai in isolation - away from the Bangkoks and Phukets – the dynamics of the gay and lesbian scene and expressions of sexuality in general differ considerably. It loses much of the cheap tackiness and sheer numerics found in other parts of the country and is instead embraced as a contributor to the cultural vibrancy of the city.
Chiang Mai is often quoted as being the most culturally significant city in Thailand - a city that has successfully managed to combine its rich history and traditions with an increasingly modern flavour. It is a city that many Thais look to with pride; being a source of nationhood and a leading example of what Thai culture is really all about.
The gay and lesbian scene in Chiang Mai is small but busy, open but respected. Many restaurants, guest houses and clubs heavily advertise themselves as ‘gay-friendly’ in an attempt to attract a larger clientèle. In fact, many gay-friendly clubs openly prefer gay patrons (whilst still having open admission) as a way to strengthen and maintain the community as well as protect the club’s image. However with this being said, the gay community and scene severely outnumbers its lesbian counterpart. Whilst not non-existent, the lesbian scene in Chiang Mai is extremely small and is only now beginning to establish itself against an already bustling gay scene. If it is a drop, the gay community is an ocean.
What is important to note is that homosexuals and homosexuality are only one component of the larger sexual community. Also prominent are transsexuals, bisexuals and prostitutes – all of which are major contributors to Chiang Mai’s night life and cultural scene.
In direct contrast to many countries in its region, Chiang Mai embraces sexual liberalism. Rather than shaming or condemning all expressions of sexuality other than a monogamous relationship between a man and a woman – Chiang Mai considers its sexual liberalism to be an asset. It is seen as an important contributor to the city’s culture as a whole. In gay bars across town sex shows are abundant, theatricality evident, as the community is proud and free to express themselves.
There are tinges of a darker, desperate and dirtier side to the community more commonly associated with Bangkok and Phuket – but on the whole it is of a cleaner, less financially driven nature. The reality is that sexual liberalism in Chiang Mai is means much more than just lady-boys and go-go girls.
Thailand is a country of many reputations, its strong sense of sexual liberation being amongst the most eminent. This reputation is not unjustified as lady-boys and go-go girls cover the entire country - arguably being more concentrated in Bangkok than in any other part of the world. But when one considers the city of Chiang Mai in isolation - away from the Bangkoks and Phukets – the dynamics of the gay and lesbian scene and expressions of sexuality in general differ considerably. It loses much of the cheap tackiness and sheer numerics found in other parts of the country and is instead embraced as a contributor to the cultural vibrancy of the city.
Chiang Mai is often quoted as being the most culturally significant city in Thailand - a city that has successfully managed to combine its rich history and traditions with an increasingly modern flavour. It is a city that many Thais look to with pride; being a source of nationhood and a leading example of what Thai culture is really all about.
The gay and lesbian scene in Chiang Mai is small but busy, open but respected. Many restaurants, guest houses and clubs heavily advertise themselves as ‘gay-friendly’ in an attempt to attract a larger clientèle. In fact, many gay-friendly clubs openly prefer gay patrons (whilst still having open admission) as a way to strengthen and maintain the community as well as protect the club’s image. However with this being said, the gay community and scene severely outnumbers its lesbian counterpart. Whilst not non-existent, the lesbian scene in Chiang Mai is extremely small and is only now beginning to establish itself against an already bustling gay scene. If it is a drop, the gay community is an ocean.
What is important to note is that homosexuals and homosexuality are only one component of the larger sexual community. Also prominent are transsexuals, bisexuals and prostitutes – all of which are major contributors to Chiang Mai’s night life and cultural scene.
In direct contrast to many countries in its region, Chiang Mai embraces sexual liberalism. Rather than shaming or condemning all expressions of sexuality other than a monogamous relationship between a man and a woman – Chiang Mai considers its sexual liberalism to be an asset. It is seen as an important contributor to the city’s culture as a whole. In gay bars across town sex shows are abundant, theatricality evident, as the community is proud and free to express themselves.
There are tinges of a darker, desperate and dirtier side to the community more commonly associated with Bangkok and Phuket – but on the whole it is of a cleaner, less financially driven nature. The reality is that sexual liberalism in Chiang Mai is means much more than just lady-boys and go-go girls.
Backpacking in a Nutshell
Written by: Sabrina Kamaruddin
While most of the town is surely filled with Thai locals, the road where our guesthouse is located does make you second guess: is this Thailand with Europeans or Europe with Thais? The backpacking culture is common among Caucasians and it could be said with conviction that all towns in South-East Asia – big or small – have been stepped-in by them. Asians, on the other hand, are still predominantly hotel-staying and suitcase-dragging.
Backpacking is a practice that Asian students have yet to grasp a proper understanding or acceptance of. Yet it is the best way a student could travel – we are young and strong enough to walk long distances while carrying 15 kilos of luggage on our backs, and we do not have to fork out a gold ingot (which we do not have) to go places. Studying in Malaysia means that we are surrounded by backpacker-friendly nations which are an hour away by flight, brief compared to the thousands of kilometres that Europeans have to fly over to get here.
For those who have had a taste of budget travel with Dr. Yeoh and are looking for more, here is a list of 4 things we must do to partake in the unfamiliar territory of backpacking.
1. Carry a backpack.
And leave the suitcase at home. All backpackers must carry backpacks; those bulgy looking things that hover over the heads of its carriers like a burdens expecting to be released. Although stupendously large, they are not as heavy as they look. Investing in a backpack pays off in the long run as they are highly durable and have a decent second-hand value.
Haversacks come in several sizes, but they are light and expandable to accommodate your belongings depending on the length of your trip. As much as you might usually love to keep things in order, backpacks are meant to be messy, and chucking your clothes straight in should be your newfound habit. If you go on long trips (2 months and above), you might find that throwing, donating or selling your clothes would be necessary to make space for souvenirs and new clothes.
2. Stay at a backpacker’s hostel.
You have not gone backpacking if you have not slept in dormitories and bathed in communal shower rooms. Hostels have much to offer: they are cheap and good for mingling. Decent bunk beds go for as low as USD10, and if you look well enough they come with great services such as WiFi, laundry service, travel advice, book loans or exchange, and even a simple all-you-can eat breakfast of toast and eggs.
Bed bugs are always a primary concern, especially when they get into your clothes and luggage and you take them home with you. A great way to avoid this and other inconvenience is to do some research on the hostel beforehand. Websites like HostelWorld.Com and Hostels.Com do not only show prices but also ratings, reviews, and even an up-to-date room availability chart.
3. Meet and mingle with other backpackers.
Making friends and exchanging information is a large part of the backpacking lifestyle. If you attempt living in hostels with a common area, you will bump into other travellers ready to befriend you. Muster the courage to initiate conversations, if you haven’t already, and go out to have drinks and a chat. It is possible to meet with other backpackers who have been to your intended destination as they could offer advice and recommendations. While travel guide books are a great way to get tips and pointers, they do not have mouths to answer your questions, so apart from great company, the friends you make during your travels could be saving your time and money, if not your life.
4. Be spontaneous.
Plan as you go. This does not mean that you do not need to prepare, but you should be ready and able to occasionally take risks and jump into decisions. From daily activities to accommodation, surprise yourself and friends at home as to what you are willing to do. Go for a two-day volunteer program, jump on the next train out of town, or get married to someone you met at the bar. Just make sure you can get an annulment the following day.
While most of the town is surely filled with Thai locals, the road where our guesthouse is located does make you second guess: is this Thailand with Europeans or Europe with Thais? The backpacking culture is common among Caucasians and it could be said with conviction that all towns in South-East Asia – big or small – have been stepped-in by them. Asians, on the other hand, are still predominantly hotel-staying and suitcase-dragging.
Backpacking is a practice that Asian students have yet to grasp a proper understanding or acceptance of. Yet it is the best way a student could travel – we are young and strong enough to walk long distances while carrying 15 kilos of luggage on our backs, and we do not have to fork out a gold ingot (which we do not have) to go places. Studying in Malaysia means that we are surrounded by backpacker-friendly nations which are an hour away by flight, brief compared to the thousands of kilometres that Europeans have to fly over to get here.
For those who have had a taste of budget travel with Dr. Yeoh and are looking for more, here is a list of 4 things we must do to partake in the unfamiliar territory of backpacking.
1. Carry a backpack.
And leave the suitcase at home. All backpackers must carry backpacks; those bulgy looking things that hover over the heads of its carriers like a burdens expecting to be released. Although stupendously large, they are not as heavy as they look. Investing in a backpack pays off in the long run as they are highly durable and have a decent second-hand value.
Haversacks come in several sizes, but they are light and expandable to accommodate your belongings depending on the length of your trip. As much as you might usually love to keep things in order, backpacks are meant to be messy, and chucking your clothes straight in should be your newfound habit. If you go on long trips (2 months and above), you might find that throwing, donating or selling your clothes would be necessary to make space for souvenirs and new clothes.
2. Stay at a backpacker’s hostel.
You have not gone backpacking if you have not slept in dormitories and bathed in communal shower rooms. Hostels have much to offer: they are cheap and good for mingling. Decent bunk beds go for as low as USD10, and if you look well enough they come with great services such as WiFi, laundry service, travel advice, book loans or exchange, and even a simple all-you-can eat breakfast of toast and eggs.
Bed bugs are always a primary concern, especially when they get into your clothes and luggage and you take them home with you. A great way to avoid this and other inconvenience is to do some research on the hostel beforehand. Websites like HostelWorld.Com and Hostels.Com do not only show prices but also ratings, reviews, and even an up-to-date room availability chart.
3. Meet and mingle with other backpackers.
Making friends and exchanging information is a large part of the backpacking lifestyle. If you attempt living in hostels with a common area, you will bump into other travellers ready to befriend you. Muster the courage to initiate conversations, if you haven’t already, and go out to have drinks and a chat. It is possible to meet with other backpackers who have been to your intended destination as they could offer advice and recommendations. While travel guide books are a great way to get tips and pointers, they do not have mouths to answer your questions, so apart from great company, the friends you make during your travels could be saving your time and money, if not your life.
4. Be spontaneous.
Plan as you go. This does not mean that you do not need to prepare, but you should be ready and able to occasionally take risks and jump into decisions. From daily activities to accommodation, surprise yourself and friends at home as to what you are willing to do. Go for a two-day volunteer program, jump on the next train out of town, or get married to someone you met at the bar. Just make sure you can get an annulment the following day.
And They Ask, Wat Sum Pow?
Written By: Nadiah Ahmad.
We braced ourselves before entering the crowd of locals and foreigners at the night market on Rachadamnoen Road, situated just down the alley from where we dwell. A friend and I took a left turn, but the rest decided not to; and so the immersion began. Stalls lined the edge of a wide street that stretched far too long for my poor eyesight to comprehend, on a road far too complicated to pronounce.
As I tried to grasp the atmosphere, I was caught off-guard by a bunch of promoters wearing white. Their t-shirts had, “I <3 JPN” (or so I think) printed on them. Perplexed at what exactly they were chanting, I soon realised that Thai night markets were not, in many ways, the night markets I had always been used to in KL; namely the fact that these markets are not just for micro-entrepreneurs to supply to the demanding, but it was also a public space for those who wish to exhibit their creativity.
We walked further down the road, past temples and then across the road to where remnants of the old Fort wall still stood majestically reminding the city and its people of its history. Behind the orange-moss wall, the capitalistic emblems of Starbucks, McDonald’s and 7-Eleven shone light on a section of the market that seemed to only cater to tourists; sarongs, Thai silk and lanterns occupied many tables within the vicinity and I suddenly became nauseous at the thought of being too much of a tourist.
We quickly headed back to where the locals were and then another mini epiphany dawned upon us; the ethics of cleanliness that has been conditioned into the minds of the Thai people is worthy of envy. There was no dustbin in sight, and yet the streets were considerably clean with no smell of decomposing half-eaten fried foods. Our inner moral police told us not to be non-Thai by littering. And so we straddled along, garbage in hand and watched four blind men playing in a band; all in line, probably singing about sunshine. How refreshing.
I further indulged in the notion of buskers, watching those who played with their traditional instruments, as it struck a chord with the pseudo-musician in me. I loved the fact that the noises that engulfed the market were not that of shouts or loud generators, but of music. However I was suddenly brought back to reality by the image of a young girl of about four or five in her tribal garment dancing by one of the brightly lit stalls. The female owner of a particular stall was engrossed in the little girl’s dancing while I became engrossed in the idea of a child being made to dance for money. We decided some sense of serenity was needed to exorcise our exaggerated thoughts of child labour abuses and thus promptly made our way to the nearest temple.
The temple compound housed makeshift stalls for Thais to sell their goods, and this I found the most peculiar. For I always assumed a place of worship is for nothing but just that; my Malaysian mentality of compartmentalising thus was being challenged. The stalls sold goods that both Thais and foreigners would find useful alongside plentiful food stalls.
We heard the chanting of a monk, while ladies prayed outside ever so intently and sincerely; I felt like I was intruding. We saw Thais buy sushi while westerners purchased Pad Thai, locals buying foreign food, foreigners buying local food; all of this happened amongst the statues of Buddha that looked on with blessings in tow. And if it was not Buddha who protected us, there was always the tourist police.
We braced ourselves before entering the crowd of locals and foreigners at the night market on Rachadamnoen Road, situated just down the alley from where we dwell. A friend and I took a left turn, but the rest decided not to; and so the immersion began. Stalls lined the edge of a wide street that stretched far too long for my poor eyesight to comprehend, on a road far too complicated to pronounce.
As I tried to grasp the atmosphere, I was caught off-guard by a bunch of promoters wearing white. Their t-shirts had, “I <3 JPN” (or so I think) printed on them. Perplexed at what exactly they were chanting, I soon realised that Thai night markets were not, in many ways, the night markets I had always been used to in KL; namely the fact that these markets are not just for micro-entrepreneurs to supply to the demanding, but it was also a public space for those who wish to exhibit their creativity.
Starbucks indicates regular presence of tourists
We walked further down the road, past temples and then across the road to where remnants of the old Fort wall still stood majestically reminding the city and its people of its history. Behind the orange-moss wall, the capitalistic emblems of Starbucks, McDonald’s and 7-Eleven shone light on a section of the market that seemed to only cater to tourists; sarongs, Thai silk and lanterns occupied many tables within the vicinity and I suddenly became nauseous at the thought of being too much of a tourist.
We quickly headed back to where the locals were and then another mini epiphany dawned upon us; the ethics of cleanliness that has been conditioned into the minds of the Thai people is worthy of envy. There was no dustbin in sight, and yet the streets were considerably clean with no smell of decomposing half-eaten fried foods. Our inner moral police told us not to be non-Thai by littering. And so we straddled along, garbage in hand and watched four blind men playing in a band; all in line, probably singing about sunshine. How refreshing.
Sunday Market lays on both sides of the now derelict fort wall
I further indulged in the notion of buskers, watching those who played with their traditional instruments, as it struck a chord with the pseudo-musician in me. I loved the fact that the noises that engulfed the market were not that of shouts or loud generators, but of music. However I was suddenly brought back to reality by the image of a young girl of about four or five in her tribal garment dancing by one of the brightly lit stalls. The female owner of a particular stall was engrossed in the little girl’s dancing while I became engrossed in the idea of a child being made to dance for money. We decided some sense of serenity was needed to exorcise our exaggerated thoughts of child labour abuses and thus promptly made our way to the nearest temple.
The temple compound housed makeshift stalls for Thais to sell their goods, and this I found the most peculiar. For I always assumed a place of worship is for nothing but just that; my Malaysian mentality of compartmentalising thus was being challenged. The stalls sold goods that both Thais and foreigners would find useful alongside plentiful food stalls.
The Buddhist lifestyle integrated with everyday consumerism
We heard the chanting of a monk, while ladies prayed outside ever so intently and sincerely; I felt like I was intruding. We saw Thais buy sushi while westerners purchased Pad Thai, locals buying foreign food, foreigners buying local food; all of this happened amongst the statues of Buddha that looked on with blessings in tow. And if it was not Buddha who protected us, there was always the tourist police.
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