Wan Sat Jeen: Messing up my Thai duck offering

Young man in the market

Walking in the market, I came across a man selling whole duck.

His sign said ped palor (เป็ดพะโล้), or stewed duck. He was on one side of the old covered fresh market close to my home. I pass it on my way to a nearby canal.

The duck trader called out to me as I walked past, on my way to the canal to watch the long-tailed boats race by.

'You!' he said.

Thais sitting nearby looked up. They saw that I was a farang, and smiled. A small communications gap, they were thinking.

At home, I asked the boyfriend if he knew ped palor.

'You should go back and buy some - half a duck or a whole duck will do. Just ask for the meat, not the bones,' he said.

I did as I was told.

Six or seven middle-aged Thai women had gathered around the duck traders' stall when I returned. They were waiting for their orders.

He called out again. 'One!' he said, holding up one finger, and looked hopeful.

'No...half,' I said. 'How much?'

He looked at me oddly.

'We don't sell it in halves,' he replied. 'You buy them to pay respect to your ancestors, on wan sat jeen, which falls tomorrow. You offer a whole duck to your ancestors, not a half portion,' he said.

Earlier in the week, I saw half a dozen farmers camped next to the railway line. They brought with them live chickens in cages, for slaughter ahead of wan sat jeen, part of the Festival of Hungry Ghosts.

I am lucky Thais are such a tolerant and understanding bunch. None of the shoppers laughed at the farang who was silly enough to order half a duck, not a whole one - and with the intention of buying it to eat, not offer to his ancestor's ghosts.