Once upon a time in Thailand, it was decided that there should be a fair every week, complete with food stalls, trinkets, useful items at discount prices, and maybe even a concert. Also, in order for this fair to run smoothly, a minimum of three blocks must be cordoned off for pedestrian use only. And every town in Thailand must have one of these walking street night markets (as they are so elegantly named). Based on our experience, I’m pretty sure this is Thai law.
Thanks to the existence of night markets, I not only have acquired lots of useless (read: adorable) junk, but I’ve managed to buff up the parts of my wardrobe that fall within our uniform. Skirts in gray, purple, and red, as well as tee-shirts that look nearly professional (Thais are much smaller than us Americans) were a must for this term. Clearly necessary, as I already have a goofy styrofoam/yarn giraffe, were a cartoon dog to hold my toothbrush, an ashtray shaped like a turtle, a mug with a frog perched on the handle, and earrings shaped like various desserts.
Also thanks to the night markets, I have eaten ostrich, deer, and alligator (crocodile?), as well as numerous other varieties of meat-on-a-stick. Pork buns, fried quail eggs, pad thai, corn with butter and sugar, super sweet fruit shakes, and (if you so desire) the creepy sea version of meat-on-a-stick, whole squid. Dumplings, spring rolls, milk tea, waffles full of raisins, chocolate, or taro, roti pancakes with egg and banana. By definition it’s a smorgasbord.
Plants, clothes, shoes. Hair pins, purses, straightening irons. Helmets, keychains, crocs shaped like dragon claws, sunglasses. Oh, and of course, Thai line dancing (I say line, but it goes in a circle). Inevitably, we will eat on the cheap, but still spend too much. And on Monday morning, we get at least one “Teacher, I see you, walking street.”
