Bangkok ... The Chatuchak Dilemma

Made my maiden trip to the famous Chatuchak Weekend Market. With ample warnings from friends, took lots of fluids (Singha!) and togged myself in the flimsiest of clothes.

Reached the place, was overcome by the size of the place. Still could not prepare enough for the ravages of nature. Was sweating, yes SWEATING, not perspiring, like a horse. However, the need to buy and the sheer challenge of covering as much ground as possible kept me going.

With so many things to look at and buy, I had to weigh the pros and cons of each item I was going gaga over. Shortlisting my needs and weeding out my wants was done in tandem with squeezing through the narrow aisles made narrower by fellow sweaty shoppers.

After deciding more or less what I thought I needed, I went around looking for them. Then came the next dilemma - whether to get the item at the first shop I find or to look for cheaper, greener pastures, but risk not being able to navigate back to the first shop. It was one of the hardest choices during my stay there. Decisions decisions...

I never experienced such hot weather at Bangkok. Reinforced by the crowd and narrow aisles, the whole place was a pressure cooker. While in the shadier, sheltered lines of shops, the air was hotter and stuffier than Singapore's hot humid nights. On the other hand, out of the sheltered Zones to the open driveways, although with minimal draft, the sun was waiting to drench me with its searing heat. In the end, my shopping pattern took the form of hopping in and out of the shade every 15 to 20 minutes.

Well, with the generous loss of minerals through sweating comes the desire to drink something ice cold, right? And with high volumes of fluids flowing into your system, something's gotta give, right? My bloody bladder was working at twice its normal rate, resulting in my visiting the very well-visited stinking urinals. By the third visit, I was torn between quenching that darned thirst and standing in front a piece of ceramic I wasn't too fond of. And of course, these mini detours cost me time better spent satisfying my needs!

By the 4th hour there, I was beat. Bags of various proportions and a very antique looking painting of Buddha's profile were hanging from both of my hands. Then, the mother of all dilemmas emerged. To stay on another hour to comb the remaining shops or head back to Patpong for a deep soothing massage.

While bouncing off that dilemma against the stinking cracked urinal, I chose Patpong over the pong. And maybe catch a ping pong show thereafter.


redcocoon