Buhay Bangkok

Lizl and I went on an exploration trip to Yaowarat last Saturday. Although we are familiar with Thailand’s Chinatown for the past year because the No. 7 bus passes by Charoenklung and Yaowarat roads on its way to its terminal at Hua Lamphong train station, our trip last Saturday was our first in terms of really seeking out the sub-sois of Bangkok’s Old Town.

We have heard a lot of stories of serendipity from Lizl’s co-teacher, Jomari—about low-priced second-hand cell phones, of old Swatch watches sold at a hundred Baht apiece and others that would make a true-blue bargain-hunting Pinoy’s mouth water. Last week, he showed around their faculty room a second-hand Rolex watch that is purportedly original. Lizl almost fell for it but realized, would a sidewalk vendor sell such a gem at bargain-basement prices? C’mon.

Alas! We nurtured false hopes. Our excursion into the sub-sois earned us just cheap swimsuits for Chubby and a pair of swimming trunks for Paulo, not to mention dehydration and exhaustion.

Sure, there were cheap merchandise if you were really looking for them: China-made headsets for less than 100 Baht, fake sunglasses at 30 Baht a pair, airsoft guns and plastic pellets, shirts and jeans and blouses, imitation katana swords, socks, gloves, heck, even porno CDs and dildos. There are even generators, small tractors and other hardware items if you are so inclined.

The gems, though, were those stuff usually salvaged from ‘lipat-bahay’ detritus. Yaowarat looked like a bigger version of the Evangelista garage sale in Makati. Not much valuable to see, though. There were some Parker and Cross pens, both ballpoint and fountain pens, which were overpriced despite their age and scratches and discoloration. Lizl wanted to buy some antique miniature lamps and tea sets but though better of it. If you’re a film history or a music records buff, there are lots of old and mounted movie posters (like Mr. Holland’s Opus) presumably from an old video shop, old VHS tapes and boxes and boxes of long-playing albums of 60s, 70s and 80s vintage. If I had a reasonably good stereo turntable and enough space at home, I’d have bought all those records (especially the 80s albums).  There were also some toys, though not the ones I was looking for (vintage 80s G.I.Joes and Transformers; is it too much to hope for?).

Finally dehydrated by the day’s heat (we went around Yaowarat at 4 PM) and disappointed by the slim pickings, we decided to go to Khao San and explore it too.

We were rewarded by the bustling street life. It was still light when Lizl and I arrived there but the place was already teeming with tourists (mostly Caucasians) strolling, looking at the clothes sold at the pavement, drinking Singha, Chang or…surprise! San Miguel Beer in the roadside pubs, and, this is worth mentioning—eating exotic street food, including deep fried black scorpions and fat larvae made famous in reality TV shows like Survivor and Fear Factor.

Lizl and I did the rounds of the second-hand bookshops there. Two of the most satisfactory ones were Apsoria and Shaman. Their books were low-priced enough, but just 20 Baht or so lower than those sold in Dasa Book Café. I prefer to buy books from the latter its offerings are in better condition and the bookshop itself has a cozy ambience, one in which you’d love to spend the whole afternoon in, browsing books by the soft glow of the lamps. Nonetheless, I was able to buy three books, two from Apsoria and one from Shaman.

A backpacker who was also digging through a pile of books beside me in Shaman suddenly asked me, “You want a nice to book to read?” Before I can answer, he dug in his backpack and his hand came up with a big tome by mystery writer David Baldacci. “How much?” I asked him. “Nah,” he said, waving his hand, “You can have it. It’s not like I’d get 20 Baht if I trade it back.”  Is this friendly stranger being generous or is he a pervert with weird ideas? I wasn’t born yesterday and there’s no such thing as a free lunch, so I wanted to ask him, “So, what’s the catch?” and perhaps hit him hard in the face if he so much as give a wrong answer. Lizl joined me and the farang chose a book from the pile, paid the cashier, said, “Enjoy it!” and went on his way. In this age of cynicism, it is very hard to believe that complete strangers can give books away with no strings attached. Just the same, thanks for the book, whoever you are.

We concluded our exploration of two points of interest of Bangkok with a dinner of khao pat kai and phad thai. There was a nice garden restaurant tucked away in Khao San, with palochina table sets under a spreading tree. It was a contrast to the sleazy bars nearby. The owner was a young Indian-Thai who was chatting with what looked like an older relative (his father?) at table No. 1.  His crew were courteous and the food was more to our taste. Curiously, his restaurant’s condiments did not include chili powder or even chili gravy.  Just patis with sliced chili.

As we prepared to leave, it dawned on me that Khao San seems to be an island of Westerners in the middle of an ocean of Thais. As Lizl and I waited in front of Burger King for a taxi, I realized we already crossed from the farang side to the Thai side. As soon as the taxi we rode in emerged at Ratchadamnoen Avenue, we discovered that were back in Bangkok.