Chinatown is very interesting and Sunday is a strange time to go. Normally, the stores are all open, the markets are in full swing, and the streets are packed with people. But it’s a much quieter place on a Sunday morning, which was good. I could take my time on the streets and enjoy the smaller scale of the older buildings – the ones with shops on the ground floor and living spaces above.
One thing that I noticed is that all of the same type of shops are on the same street. For instance, all of the shoe stores were together. I guess that makes it easier for customers since they only have to go to one place, but I’m not sure how you would decide to buy your shoes at this store and not that store or the next store. Especially since all the stores are side-by-side.
Another thing that struck me was the mix of people and cultures. I saw a father out shopping with his two sons – not sure if they were from India or Pakistan or Saudi Arabia or somewhere else – but their clothes were spectacular. Long, bright white robes that really stood out from the mix of non-stop color. Here is a picture of them negotiating a fare with a tuk-tuk driver. It was an interesting moment – an American taking a picture of an Indian family talking to a Thai man. In Chinatown.
I eventually did make it to the Pak Khlong flower market and yes, it was apparent that I had missed the height of the action. As you can tell from this photo. Guess it was a long night.
But it was still interesting – and definitely impressive. I can imagine what it must be like at 3:00 AM, with all the fresh flowers arriving and customers haggling with the shop owners.
After about 30 minutes of walking around the market, the sky got really dark really quickly and it started to pour. I found a dry spot under the awning of a shop, figuring I would just wait it out. It rains like this most days in Bangkok this time of year – a torrential downpour that usually lasts about 20 minutes.
After a few minutes, the shop owner came over, smiled, and pointed to a chair for me to sit in. Very nice of her. She spoke almost no English and my Thai is rudimentary at best, but we managed to “chat’ while I waited for the rain to stop. Her name was something that sounded like a cross between “Nut” and “Newt.” I told her I was from America and living in Bangkok for six months. She said that she sold fresh ginger – fortunately I know the Thai word for fresh and she knew how to say “ginger” in English – to restaurants. Plus, it was pretty apparent that she sold ginger, since the shop was filled with ginger bulbs (stalks?) and shredded ginger.
While it rained, she kept working, filling 5 kilo bags of ginger. She had obviously been doing this for quite a while, since, even though she weighed each bag, she pretty much filled every one to 5 kilos on the first attempt. (I was sitting next to the scale so I could see what she was doing.) She must have lived behind the shop because at one point a man came wandering out from the back room, looked at the rain, turned around and went back in. Even though it was raining hard, delivery guys showed up on motorcyles, paid, and then rode off with bags of ginger. One of them made a comment about the “farang” (the “foreigner,” meaning me) and she smiled and I smiled and then I said, “Pom kow jai,” which means “I understand.” That took him a bit by surprise. When the rain let up, I got up to leave and asked if I could take her picture. She said yes, so I pointed my camera, said, “neung, soong, saam,” (1..,2..,3) and took her picture.
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