Day Markets, Night Markets, Ancient Ruins and Elephants

The day markets in Ang Thong lie just off the main road, and they fill each single soi (side street) to the brim, like some giant maze chalk-full of different foods and aromas, spices, exotic fruits I can never identify, various meats cooked in all sorts of ways: grilled, boiled, deep-fried.  Slipping through with my trusty travel bag slung over my shoulder, I pause here and there to watch an old woman's worn hands cut away the pokey crust of a pineapple with the ease of peeling an apple.  The same goes for slicing mangoes, papayas, or whatever happens to be the focus of the blade at any given moment.  Thais are skilled slicers, whereas my own endeavors to cut fruit into edible pieces often leave only unappetizing chunky chards and juice all over, making my fingers extra sticky in the already sticky humidity.  More hand sanitizer please. 

If you do not have a strong stomach or a natural piggish desire for adventurous forays into food, do not enter the markets.  The stalls are set up in the morning right there on the dirt-covered streets, products sold all day under the shade of umbrellas, and then broken down near dusk until the cycle repeats itself.  Some consider the food ill fit for eating, and one must always be careful and attentive to the food they eat lest they be bedridden with a vicious bout of food poisoning.  But in my eyes, this is rare, and often times has more to do with the mindset of the foreign traveler rather than the biology of it all.  If everything was poison waiting to happen, the Thais who eat it on a daily basis would not be there negotiating for grapes and bananas here, fresh squid and curry there.  This is part of the assimilation, and my tummy rejoices. 

Thais are a snacking culture.  Forget the neat and tidy three square meals a day concept.  For one like me who lives for food, and travels to places based on the type of cuisine they offer, this way of life suits me.  I eat all day here, and all night too if I want.  Of course there are still certain items that make me squeamish, but I am working my way up to them.  Whole fried fish with the heads still attached smell like heaven, but my eyes stray to their dead, cooked eyes and I move on to the next stall.  Much of the seafood I looked forward to defied all expectation as far as presentation.  It's something I continue to work on, and by the end of this trip (still so far in the future) I will have an iron stomach able to withstand and digest the gnarliest looking seafood, as well as the spicy kick of the hottest peppers around. 

Before I came I memorized Thai vocab words for all the foods I might encounter.  Strolling through the markets allows me to build on what I already know.  I smile and ask "nee a-rai?" (what's this?), or point to a basket of onions and say "hooa horm," or a bag of peppers and ask "prik" so they can correct my pronunciation.  More often than not I have no clue what they are saying, but I try to repeat and remember anyway.  It's bound to stick eventually. 

Since coming to Ang Thong ordering meals has been an interesting rollercoaster ride, as there are absolutely no English menus here.  We have been experiementing, sometimes just pointing to something on the menu and hoping for the best, sometimes saying chicken or pork and just letting the waitress bring us whatever concoction she wants.  So far so good, although some of my colleagues are getting overwhelmed by the degree of spice, and I tell them, you need to start asking "mai pet" (no spicy).  As for myself, the heat of the dish is mouth-watering and simply complements the heat of the atmosphere.  I have had (knock on wood) no digestive issues with the level of spice, and I like to think it's due to my long-lasting love affair with spicy foods, including my time in Mexico, as well as consuming some excellent pepper dishes in New Mexico, and of course the outstanding green chile courtesy of my parents for so many years.  Boy it's really making me miss Mexican food, which is pretty much non-existent here in Thailand. 

The other night I ordered neua pat nam-man hoy (stir-fried beef in oyster sauce), and I think so far it may just be my favorite, although the gaang leu-ang (yellow curry) is also quite tasty.  I am suprised at how many types of spicy salads they offer here: spicy beef salad, spicy papaya salad - very interesting dishes.  Also, I had my first elephant experience that night!  Some little boy came up to our table and was trying to sell us these celery-looking sticks, and I asked him what they were, and he pointed to the friggin' elephant on the sidewalk that I somehow overlooked!  It was a baby elephant, looked a lot like dumbo, and I got to feed it the celery sticks, and boy was it greedy.  Good thing I had a bunch of them, because I'm afraid it would have taken my hand in its mouth if not.  And then the owners would say "thank you" as a command to the elephant, and it would put its front foot forward, bend back and down, and bow to the customer.  I was so upset that I didnt bring my camera with me that night.  I purposefully left it at home thinking, "nothing interesting will happen in the hour it takes us to have dinner around the corner."  Never will I ever make that mistake in Thailand again, where there is always always something interesting to see or do, despite one's expecations. 

There is a night market around the corner from where we live every Monday and Thursday.  Normally it just looks like this huge abandoned gravel parking lot, but on these nights every one and their grandma (literally) are there buying, selling, consuming, and generally people-watching.  I love these markets.  This time I went by myself, as so far there actually hasnt been that many opportunities to do things alone, or perhaps I just havent necessarily had the desire yet.  I loved it.  Slipping through the crowd with my trusty travelling bag slung over my shoulder, I felt anonymous.  There was a moment when I consciously thought to myself, I am the anonymous world traveller.  Everything I ever wanted to be I identified with: the blank canvas of an open mind, open heart, open eyes.  Every now and then a face would catch yours and remind you that you are an outsider, but for the most part, it's dark and bustling so much so that you can simply melt into the movement of everything unjudged, used or prepackaged - the lights, the music, the smells, the stalls, the cheap clothing, the purses, the perfumes, the curries simmering in giant pots, the raw livers laying out on trays in giant crimson brown slabs, the sushi stands at ten baht a pop, the make up and accessories, the gadgets and gizmos, computers, extension cords, blenders and appliances, cleaning supplies, fish cakes, jewelry - it's like superwalmart, except local and cheaper.  This is not your conglomerate, corporate free for all; this is your cultural awakening. 

I wanted as well to speak of the ruins of Siam's ancient capital Ayutthaya in this entry, but that will have to wait until another time.  It is Friday, and we are about to head out for the big city: Bangkok.  I have a feeling we will be escaping as much as we can to Krung Thep - The City of Angels, where all of your sins can be satisfied and consecrated in the name of adventure.  When in Rome.... do as the Romans do.  And when in Thailand, do as a good man once told me: barter and smile :)