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Published: November 20th 2016
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In the ‘land of smiles,’ the king is dead. Phra Bat Somdet Phra Paraminthra Maha Bhumibol Adulyadej Mahitalathibet Ramathibodi Chakkrinaruebodin Sayamminthrathirat Borommanatthabophit (
listen), ninth king of the Chakri Dynasty of the Kingdom of Thailand, died Oct 14
th. after 70 years on the throne. He was the world’s longest reigning monarch and the only king most Thais have ever known. For many, he was regarded as semi-divine. An official mourning period was immediately declared. Public clothing, television, websites, Google, newspapers, digital bill boards, and mannequins in shop windows turned black and white. Bars and clubs closed. The jabbering video screens on the sky train shut up. Morrissey and the full moon party were canceled. The neon lights even temporarily went out on Soi Cowboy and other red-light districts, ruining the holidays of lecherous old men. Entertainment and ‘joyful’ events have been suspended for thirty days, and most alarmingly, the grocery store stopped selling alcohol. And though “there cannot be good living where there is not good drinking,” one must eat. Eating is, thankfully, still permitted.
Only a few food carts can squeeze into the narrowness along the edges of our street, Soi Mehti Newit (
map). From one cart, a
bowed ancient woman sells Thai coffee: hot, cold, black, or cut with condensed milk - all sickeningly sweet. Two other carts – sidewalk soup kitchen and noodle houses- offer various steaming, wok-fried or broth boiled combinations of meat, vegetables, rice, and noodles. It all looks delicious, but the heat, the humidity, the impending thunderstorms, the passing traffic, and a wriggling, writhing, baby inclined to wandering makes eating anything hot, spicy, fried, and or soupy on the shoulder of the road less appealing. Though it can all be taken away in the ubiquitous rubber banded clear plastic bags, the fresh fruit and som tam carts that move around the perimeter of the park are cooler options. The fruit -watermelon, cantaloupe, pineapple, green or yellow mango, papaya, and dragon fruit – glistens refreshingly on mounds of ice and is sliced and served with a wooden poking stick popular with the baby. The som tam -- green papaya salad – is mortared, mixed, grated and, of course, tossed into a clear plastic bag. It doesn’t come with any sharp sticks.
As it is necessary to eat more than fruit and papaya salad, we also frequent the nearby Gourmet Market. It
a 'real' Thai market
open air un-refrigerated deliciousness, just around the corner from the live poultry, the frogs, and the insects. is definitely gourmet. It is definitely not a market. Markets in Bangkok are open-air butcher shops with live chickens, ducks, fish, turtles, eels, frogs, mounds of offal, shrimp, lobster, insects, and an assortment of non-imported, less than perfect, fruit and vegetables. Gourmet Market is not that. It has gilded shopping carts, charcuterie, sashimi, several brands of seaweed, Shanghai hairy crabs, $6 Japanese sweet potatoes, peanut butter, individually wrapped - flawless imported fruit and vegetables, few Thai shoppers, and surprisingly, durian. Unlike the rest, durian, the ‘king of the fruit’, is an indisputable Thai market native.
Covered in sharp thorns, the yellowy green durian looks like the clubbing end of a dinosaur’s tail. Inside the thick armored husk, there is a buttery custard-like flesh adored locally. The regal durian also smells like a rotting carcass wrapped in old gym socks and left in a hot car for a thousand years. Or, beauty being in the nose of the beholder, it smells divine. The durian, malodorously pungent, is stacked near the entrance, where it proudly and defiantly asserts Gourmet Market’s cultural and national identity vis–à–vis the ‘fancy’ imported fruit. Almost daily, the baby and I wander through the horrible,
yet strangely alluring, oniony-blue cheesy-turpentine miasma to graze the free fruit samples. Alas, the durian is never offered.
Before the king’s death, our dinner shopping and grazing coincided with the double rainbow, unicorn awesome, happy song performance. At roughly 4:00 every afternoon, the background music volume stopped. The 350 some odd employees quickly gathered and then, music suddenly blaring, break into a coordinating choreographed dance-clap routine to Pharrell Williams’ ‘Happy’ song (watch here:
">same market, same dance, different mall). The happy dance was hilarious not only for simply happening, but also because of the employees’ fervor. It was clearly inspired by one of those North Korean, praise-the-leader, have fun or die, enthusiasm charades. After the song, the employees reluctantly returned to the drudgery of stocking shelves, smiling a lot, and incessant suh wa dee kap -ing (saying hello) everyone. Tragically, the king’s death silenced the happy song, and the employees dance no more.
Although the declared official mourning period is a year, the no-festivities, black-clothing period is only thirty days. Social stigma, however, may keep the world painted black all year, but it may not. The alcohol ban thankfully lasted just three or four days, and the
local tv stations are no longer on a black and white king commemoration loop. Soi Cowboy and the boom boom ladies are working again, and significantly, the Gourmet Market’s kid grocery carts reappeared yesterday. Maybe soon the happy dance will also return to ease the long suffering of shoppers. And maybe there will finally be durian free samples. Hope springs eternal.
Jane Frick
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Mourning the King
We were on a day-long tour with tourists from our cruise ship in Phukett about a week after the king had died and saw all the mourning banners, etc. At the one-hour Thailand culture performance, we all sat for a moment of silence for the dead king before the performance could commence.