Traders sold food, provided rides for young ones, and movies and a dance show for the oldies.
I enjoyed watching this old machine as it rattled away, churning through those reels of old film.
A beam of light shone from the projector up to the ceiling of the covered market in which we stood. A stream of smoke, caught inside the light, rose to the ceiling with it.
Another group of traders brought along rides for children – a small Ferris wheel, and an inflatable castle. Next to them, close to a dirty canal, a group of khon dancers set up a stage.
They took over a concrete-laid playing area which local lads use to play football. It has a wire fence, to keep in the ball.
Three or four men sat on stage, playing hand-held instruments. Music tinkled away, as someone narrated a story into a microphone. Dancers wearing make-up and costumes performed scenes from the story as he spoke. About 20-30 people gathered around to watch.
The exotic poses which the dancers strike are beautiful. But I wonder how many khon dancers make a decent living, or are forced to move around from one small village fair to another like this group, performing for a few hours at weekends to make ends meet.
Back at the shop, Mum would console the boys.
Mum used to cook behind her shop for the boys and me. She rarely cooks any more, as they no longer come.
now, see part 3
A man brought along a vintage commercial movie projector, and erected a screen made of white cloth. At night, he screened old Thai films.
I enjoyed watching this old machine as it rattled away, churning through those reels of old film.
A beam of light shone from the projector up to the ceiling of the covered market in which we stood. A stream of smoke, caught inside the light, rose to the ceiling with it.
Another group of traders brought along rides for children – a small Ferris wheel, and an inflatable castle. Next to them, close to a dirty canal, a group of khon dancers set up a stage.
They took over a concrete-laid playing area which local lads use to play football. It has a wire fence, to keep in the ball.
Three or four men sat on stage, playing hand-held instruments. Music tinkled away, as someone narrated a story into a microphone. Dancers wearing make-up and costumes performed scenes from the story as he spoke. About 20-30 people gathered around to watch.
The exotic poses which the dancers strike are beautiful. But I wonder how many khon dancers make a decent living, or are forced to move around from one small village fair to another like this group, performing for a few hours at weekends to make ends meet.
Back at the shop, Mum would console the boys.
‘It’s hard to make a living from performing arts,’ Mum would tell them, back they still visited.
She was right.
Mum used to cook behind her shop for the boys and me. She rarely cooks any more, as they no longer come.
now, see part 3
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