After work the other night, I went down to the market to get something to eat. Food stalls open every night opposite my condo.
As I ducked under the tent I saw a guy in his early 20s approaching from my right. Accompanied by his two younger brothers, he wore a big smile on a broad, open face.
Once under the tent, I turned to my left to see if I could spot the young man again, but he had vanished. So many wonderful stranger-in-the-street moments pass here in a flash…turn, and they have gone. People seem to disappear so quickly it’s like they were never there.
Food ordered, I walked deeper into the market to an ATM, withdrew money, and then doubled back to a convenience store. As I entered the store, I saw the three boys inside. They had just finished paying the cashier, and were on their way out. I held open the door and motioned for the boys to come out. They gave me a big, shy smile, as if they thought they should have let the foreigner come in first.
I saw their older brother behind them. He looked animated, and as I entered, I noticed he turned back, just for the briefest of moments, to see if I was looking at him. I was. Another young one who likes to be admired, yet probably no more than that.
We are fascinated by each other, because we are so different. These small encounters between strangers – the shy smiles, nervous giggles, wide-eyed stares – can light up a day.
I came across another big group of lads under the same tent last night. They were sitting down having a meal together. Each of them gave me a big stare. 'Hello,' one said. I was waiting for the ubiquitous 'You!' but it didn't come. I have lived in this market for more than five years, I thought. Surely I can't still be such a novelty after so long.
The market is close to many schools. Over time, the market's age profile is changing, so we are getting fewer Thai-Chinese oldies living here, and more young, full-blood Thais.
The young ones will get more used to seeing me around. One day they might even take to calling me 'uncle,' and invite me to join their table.
Unlikely, but in the meantime I enjoy our simple 'hellos'. I smile much more here than I ever did in my previous life. Thais are a happy bunch, their kind manners and gentle ways endearing. But if they were not also shy and quiet - almost to the point of refusing to talk sometimes - they probably wouldn't be Thai.
_
I went down to the market the next day at lunchtime, where I saw a woman in her early 30s wearing her night clothes. Perched on the back of a man's motorbike, buzzing along the street, she wore a colourful and flimsy cotton t-shirt, and matching pair of shorts.
Unmistakably night attire, but more akin to what a child would wear to bed, not an adult. Never mind. Maybe it’s the heat.
No surprise, then, that she should show not an ounce of self-consciousness about being seen in daylight wearing her baby-cute jammies. Let me see, 1pm ... at that hour, she might have just risen for the day - or could be dressed early, ready for bed tonight.
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