Chatuchak
Imagine a place where retail is a way of life and sanitation is a thing of the past. Imagine a place where the jeans are cheap and the pet stores barely have cages. Imagine a place where bric-a-brac reigns supreme and the cash register has been outlawed. Such a place exists, and it's called Chatuchak Weekend Market. Like an American flea market on steroids, this market offers virtually every vendable item you could imagine, and all for a negotiable price.
Packed in like sardines, vendors of all types are set up in shops roughly the size of a Public Storage unit. Narrow corridors, roughly wide enough for two foreigners to pass, maybe three Thais wide at most, run up and down for what seems like miles of concrete maze. I can't imagine anyone with even mild claustrophobia feeling comfortable in this place. Unless, of course, you're a girl who loves shopping so much she's willing to be uncomfortable for a good price on a new bag or pair of shoes. The heat is oppressive. Plastic and aluminum sheeting provides a makeshift roof over most of the market, while hundreds of little air conditioners strain in vain to keep the little shops cool, turning the whole place into a large convection oven. Some units have the luxury of sliding glass doors separating them from the bustle outside, and keeping their air conditioning in. Who needs advertising when you can have air conditioning. Brings 'em in every time.
The sheer madness of the shoppers and the smells and the claustrophobia is topped only by the diversity of the items offered. One could walk less than a hundred yards and be offered puppies, jeans, t-shirts, plates, buddha statuettes, hats, handbags, squid on a stick, hedghogs, an emerald tree boa, and a new bedframe along the way.
I was overwhelmed, to say the least. The smell of the food alone was putting me on the brink of sensory overload. My goal of finding some new ties was waylaid by the prospect of browsing. (Yes, I have to wear a shirt and tie to teach every day.) I was especially drawn to the stalls where reptiles and amphibians of a more exotic nature than I am used to were being sold for prices I could hardly believe. Granted, the nature of these animals and their health was generally poor and it was disheartening to see the number of cats and dogs being sold who were clearly malnourished and in desperate need of the attention of a decent vet. It was particularly surprising to me the number of vendors dealing in tropical fish and aquarium supplies. At least twenty to thirty storefronts overflowing--in some cases literally--with everything from small turtles to Koi. An equal number of storefronts specializing in filters, tubing, gravel, lighting, and enclosures. Keeping large aquarium set-ups must be a very popular thing here in Bangkok, or there would be no way this market could support such a population of suppliers who are literally neighbors. Some other interesting pets for sale that I saw included a small variety of squirrel, Emperor scorpions, huge tropical parrots, giant snapping turtles, Argentinian black and white tegus, bengal cats (a domestic calico cross bred with a local non-domestic jungle cat, gorgeous but probably really mean) legless lizards, and at least one Morray eel.
But besides the exotic the number of vendors simply selling primarily to other vendors was staggering as well. Exotic ingredients were to be had in bulk, woks in every shape and size, plates and silverware for restaurants, heating elements and propane tank accessories, a shop selling only plastic baggies in a thousand shapes and colors, and even a shop selling only chicken egg incubators. It was intense to say the least, and one couldn't help but wish they had a large home to furnish while walking among all of these things that one need only shout out a reasonable price to take home. But alas, I have no such place and so I was forced to stick to my goal of getting ties. I found a vendor who sold me three very nice silk ties for 200 Baht. For those of you not willing to do the math at home, that's roughly $5.35 by the current exchange rate. We walked around this market, with no concept of where we were headed or where we had been, for nearly five hours, and I think we saw perhaps 45%-50% of the store fronts. This is not the type of place one goes to find only one item. (Oops.) This is the type of place one spends an afternoon perusing and looking for deals. It's as if God had felt OCD one day, had collected up all the world's garage sales, organized the items into categories, and dumped them into one place.
I will be back to Chatuchak, and next time, I'm bringing a suitcase.
Packed in like sardines, vendors of all types are set up in shops roughly the size of a Public Storage unit. Narrow corridors, roughly wide enough for two foreigners to pass, maybe three Thais wide at most, run up and down for what seems like miles of concrete maze. I can't imagine anyone with even mild claustrophobia feeling comfortable in this place. Unless, of course, you're a girl who loves shopping so much she's willing to be uncomfortable for a good price on a new bag or pair of shoes. The heat is oppressive. Plastic and aluminum sheeting provides a makeshift roof over most of the market, while hundreds of little air conditioners strain in vain to keep the little shops cool, turning the whole place into a large convection oven. Some units have the luxury of sliding glass doors separating them from the bustle outside, and keeping their air conditioning in. Who needs advertising when you can have air conditioning. Brings 'em in every time.
The sheer madness of the shoppers and the smells and the claustrophobia is topped only by the diversity of the items offered. One could walk less than a hundred yards and be offered puppies, jeans, t-shirts, plates, buddha statuettes, hats, handbags, squid on a stick, hedghogs, an emerald tree boa, and a new bedframe along the way.
I was overwhelmed, to say the least. The smell of the food alone was putting me on the brink of sensory overload. My goal of finding some new ties was waylaid by the prospect of browsing. (Yes, I have to wear a shirt and tie to teach every day.) I was especially drawn to the stalls where reptiles and amphibians of a more exotic nature than I am used to were being sold for prices I could hardly believe. Granted, the nature of these animals and their health was generally poor and it was disheartening to see the number of cats and dogs being sold who were clearly malnourished and in desperate need of the attention of a decent vet. It was particularly surprising to me the number of vendors dealing in tropical fish and aquarium supplies. At least twenty to thirty storefronts overflowing--in some cases literally--with everything from small turtles to Koi. An equal number of storefronts specializing in filters, tubing, gravel, lighting, and enclosures. Keeping large aquarium set-ups must be a very popular thing here in Bangkok, or there would be no way this market could support such a population of suppliers who are literally neighbors. Some other interesting pets for sale that I saw included a small variety of squirrel, Emperor scorpions, huge tropical parrots, giant snapping turtles, Argentinian black and white tegus, bengal cats (a domestic calico cross bred with a local non-domestic jungle cat, gorgeous but probably really mean) legless lizards, and at least one Morray eel.
But besides the exotic the number of vendors simply selling primarily to other vendors was staggering as well. Exotic ingredients were to be had in bulk, woks in every shape and size, plates and silverware for restaurants, heating elements and propane tank accessories, a shop selling only plastic baggies in a thousand shapes and colors, and even a shop selling only chicken egg incubators. It was intense to say the least, and one couldn't help but wish they had a large home to furnish while walking among all of these things that one need only shout out a reasonable price to take home. But alas, I have no such place and so I was forced to stick to my goal of getting ties. I found a vendor who sold me three very nice silk ties for 200 Baht. For those of you not willing to do the math at home, that's roughly $5.35 by the current exchange rate. We walked around this market, with no concept of where we were headed or where we had been, for nearly five hours, and I think we saw perhaps 45%-50% of the store fronts. This is not the type of place one goes to find only one item. (Oops.) This is the type of place one spends an afternoon perusing and looking for deals. It's as if God had felt OCD one day, had collected up all the world's garage sales, organized the items into categories, and dumped them into one place.
I will be back to Chatuchak, and next time, I'm bringing a suitcase.
posted by Ryan at 5:54 PM
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