The Set Up

Shopping. The one word that every girl loves and every boyfriend cringes at. Shopping is the common pastime for many of the millions of teens all over the world. But the way people shop is not always the same. I am an Australian that has always lived in Thailand. Strange, I know. I have found that Thailand is very different to western countries, especially in shopping.

When I arrived at the market, the first thing I noticed was the cacophony of noises; the yell of the vendors, the haggling between vendor and customer, the sizzling and popping of meat at the food stalls, the cluck of chickens running everywhere, the bark of the dogs scampering around, and the roar of motorcycles and cars going by. Standing outside the markets can be daunting, especially if you aren’t used to it, but it is worth it. The spicy smell of chili sauce permeates the air everywhere and seems to burn the very air, and as one passes each food vendor the nose registers the smell of another kind of food. After taking it all in, I noticed I had stepped in a pile of dog poop. “Great,” I muttered, and proceeded to do something similar to the moonwalk to get the offending gunk off my shoe. I then walked over to the sweet corn stall.

Eating sweet corn in Thailand is another experience altogether. It’s not the generic corn on the cob most people eat. The kernels have been taken off the cob, cooked, placed in a cup, slathered with sweet condensed milk, and if one desires, little sweet jellies are mixed in as well. It’s the perfect pick-me-up on a hot summer’s day. While eating my delish corn I start talking with the lady behind the cart in Thai. “Sabaidee mai kha? I ask her, inquiring about her well being. “Sabaidee kha.” She answers, informing me that she is well. We proceed to chat about the weather, food, TV. After a while she asks me, “Namnag arai?” and “Mee fan mai?” These two questions seem a little rude in western cultures, but in Thailand they aren’t. The first question is ‘How much do you weigh,’ strange, I know. The second is ‘Do you have a boyfriend.’ I smile and tell her that I won’t disclose my weight unless she tells me why she wants to know if I have a boyfriend. She tells me that her son, who by the way, is standing right next her, would make a great boyfriend. Her son steps forward and says in English, “I make vely gud boyfliend,” in his broken English. I tell them both that I feel that I’m too young for him, me being fifteen and he being eighteen. The vendor laughs and says that if I change my mind to just come back and she’ll arrange it. “I’ll be sure to remember that,” I tell her as I walk away, hoping that by going towards the bags of pigs’ eyes in the corner would discourage her from following me.

I may have not mentioned this earlier, but in Thai markets, every part of the animal can be bought and eaten. The eyes are very popular, along with blood, mostly congealed blood, hooves are also popular, along with chicken beaks, chicken feet, and pig’s tails. This is the slightly more disgusting part of the market as there are flies that seem to infiltrate every single part of your vision. The sellers had come up with ingenious ways to keep the flies away though. On this particular occasion, I say that one of the vendors had outfitted his cart with a slower than normal fan with strips of plastic bags attached to each blade. I don’t know what it does, but it seems to do the trick. I proceed to be jostled in every possible direction as I make my way through the food part of the market to reach the flower section. As soon as I get even close I smell the sweet aroma of the flowers. It was like I had died and been put straight into flower heaven. There were flowers everywhere! From every supporting beam on the low ceiling there were hanging flowers. There was not one visible piece of wall or ceiling. The reason thing could be hung from the ceiling is because this local market had a ceiling that was only ten or fifteen feet off the ground. It was beautiful. I slowly mad my way through to the exit, for as I had been reveling in the pleasure of floral scents, I had gotten a text from my friend, telling me that she had to get back somewhere and I had to ‘come with.’ More’s the pity because I had just gotten to the section I really enjoyed. ‘Oh well,’ I thought to myself, ‘next time, I’ll start on the flower end.’ So you see, shopping in general is not the same as it is in first world countries. It’s much dirtier, smellier, spicier, and a whole lot more fun.