The mild heat of the midday sun and the combined noise of people talking from afar made me remember the day when I was lost in Chatuchak.
On our last day in Bangkok, we went to Chatuchak, the city's tinagge-an tantamount to the Philippines' Divisoria, Greenhills and Baclaran, to buy stuffs before heading to the farewell party in the upcoming night. Various cheap products were sold all around the place. At first, we (dCATCH Pinoys) were walking side-by-side. Until we accidentally parted "shopping ways" because of the differences of our preferences in things to be bought.
I was walking a meter away from Ma'am Faye looking at the stuffs, when a cute tokong (with a big ribbon cloth belt) caught my attention. Drawn by its uniqueness (which was rare in the Philippines), I headed towards the stall where various colors and styles of this kind could be found. I partly drifted from Ma'am Faye, thinking that I would not be too far from where she was.
I delved into the piles of bottom-wears, scrutinizing every color and design that each had. I tested whether well-designed ones fit me well through placing the hipline around my neck. Having been so indulged into the tokong(s), I forgot that I was all alone in the stall - with no other fellow whom I know. I stepped out to check Ma'am Faye who I badly wished was still at the same place where we parted, but she was gone. I looked around - back, front, left right alleys - but all I saw were strange faces. Feeling a tinge of panic, I left the store at once, telling the hospitable sellers that I would go back to buy the item that I had liked.
I tried to sense Ma'am Faye's resounding voice, assuming and hoping that she was joking or talking or blabbering with fellow Pinoys. I probed every pathway and carefully studied the huge colored map that we got before dislodging from the subway, attempting to find a way out of the place. Going forward: Section 10, 12, 14, 16, 18, 20. Going right: Section 20, 18, 16, 14, 12, 10. Textiles and decors, Inexpensive jeans, clothes... It seemed like I was just marching to and fro the same location where I came from. Confused and feared, I looked at every face I crossed path with, hoping that any of them were my fellow. Unfortunately, I did not find even a shadow of someone who knew how to speak my language. I was lost - a cast-away in a far-out marketplace.
Kalma, Jam. Kalma. What else could a stranger do in a place new to her? The only thing that I thought of doing was to make the most out of it - explore the place, converse with new people, and make the experience a significant mark of our BKK trip. Hence, I gripped tightly onto the map I was holding and strutted to the alleyways of one of the biggest marketplace in Bangkok.
Well-aware of the agreed time of returning to our hotel, I strolled around the place. I entered several booths and bargained for cheaper prices for items I have been interested to buy. "How much? 200 baht? How about 150 baht?" I bought a shirt for myself as well as for my brother, and a sarong. With limited budget left, I further promenaded the place which evolved into a rather interesting adventure. Midday was fast approaching; the district was becoming populated.
I was looking at the Thai silk cloths and shawls when I sensed a familiar face from my peripheral. Turning back, I saw Wado looking at the Thai shirts laid on the big table. Not far from him were Megi and Cookai. Approaching them, I exclaimed, "Oi, buti nakita ko kayo! Nawala ako!". To which they responded, "Kami din!"
It was a "perplexingly awesome" experience to be lost in a place where you were a complete stranger to. One, you would fear of not being able to come home because it was a new place in a different country with a distinct language. Two (sort of an irony of the former), you would feel overwhelmed by the "new-ness" of everything around. Probably, that was the essence of being a tourist of another country, or any new place for that matter. You could never get away with the feeling of excitement amidst the adventure that you were faced with - alone in a new place with no other friend than a colored map. Being skilled in speaking English was a huge help - not only could you ask for directions, but you could also ask for lower prices of items! Truly, this experience was one-of-a-kind.
The sun has come up a little farther as the hands of the clock approached midday. During this time, one day in Chatuchak, I was lost - exploring new places, conversing with new people, and enriching an experience. As I felt the worsening heat of the sun, I recounted that experience. Indeed, some seemingly unimportant things could make you remember significant events in your life. Like the heat of the sun that has increased as I finished writing this, and the loudening voices of the people around.
On our last day in Bangkok, we went to Chatuchak, the city's tinagge-an tantamount to the Philippines' Divisoria, Greenhills and Baclaran, to buy stuffs before heading to the farewell party in the upcoming night. Various cheap products were sold all around the place. At first, we (dCATCH Pinoys) were walking side-by-side. Until we accidentally parted "shopping ways" because of the differences of our preferences in things to be bought.
I was walking a meter away from Ma'am Faye looking at the stuffs, when a cute tokong (with a big ribbon cloth belt) caught my attention. Drawn by its uniqueness (which was rare in the Philippines), I headed towards the stall where various colors and styles of this kind could be found. I partly drifted from Ma'am Faye, thinking that I would not be too far from where she was.
I delved into the piles of bottom-wears, scrutinizing every color and design that each had. I tested whether well-designed ones fit me well through placing the hipline around my neck. Having been so indulged into the tokong(s), I forgot that I was all alone in the stall - with no other fellow whom I know. I stepped out to check Ma'am Faye who I badly wished was still at the same place where we parted, but she was gone. I looked around - back, front, left right alleys - but all I saw were strange faces. Feeling a tinge of panic, I left the store at once, telling the hospitable sellers that I would go back to buy the item that I had liked.
I tried to sense Ma'am Faye's resounding voice, assuming and hoping that she was joking or talking or blabbering with fellow Pinoys. I probed every pathway and carefully studied the huge colored map that we got before dislodging from the subway, attempting to find a way out of the place. Going forward: Section 10, 12, 14, 16, 18, 20. Going right: Section 20, 18, 16, 14, 12, 10. Textiles and decors, Inexpensive jeans, clothes... It seemed like I was just marching to and fro the same location where I came from. Confused and feared, I looked at every face I crossed path with, hoping that any of them were my fellow. Unfortunately, I did not find even a shadow of someone who knew how to speak my language. I was lost - a cast-away in a far-out marketplace.
Kalma, Jam. Kalma. What else could a stranger do in a place new to her? The only thing that I thought of doing was to make the most out of it - explore the place, converse with new people, and make the experience a significant mark of our BKK trip. Hence, I gripped tightly onto the map I was holding and strutted to the alleyways of one of the biggest marketplace in Bangkok.
Well-aware of the agreed time of returning to our hotel, I strolled around the place. I entered several booths and bargained for cheaper prices for items I have been interested to buy. "How much? 200 baht? How about 150 baht?" I bought a shirt for myself as well as for my brother, and a sarong. With limited budget left, I further promenaded the place which evolved into a rather interesting adventure. Midday was fast approaching; the district was becoming populated.
I was looking at the Thai silk cloths and shawls when I sensed a familiar face from my peripheral. Turning back, I saw Wado looking at the Thai shirts laid on the big table. Not far from him were Megi and Cookai. Approaching them, I exclaimed, "Oi, buti nakita ko kayo! Nawala ako!". To which they responded, "Kami din!"
It was a "perplexingly awesome" experience to be lost in a place where you were a complete stranger to. One, you would fear of not being able to come home because it was a new place in a different country with a distinct language. Two (sort of an irony of the former), you would feel overwhelmed by the "new-ness" of everything around. Probably, that was the essence of being a tourist of another country, or any new place for that matter. You could never get away with the feeling of excitement amidst the adventure that you were faced with - alone in a new place with no other friend than a colored map. Being skilled in speaking English was a huge help - not only could you ask for directions, but you could also ask for lower prices of items! Truly, this experience was one-of-a-kind.
The sun has come up a little farther as the hands of the clock approached midday. During this time, one day in Chatuchak, I was lost - exploring new places, conversing with new people, and enriching an experience. As I felt the worsening heat of the sun, I recounted that experience. Indeed, some seemingly unimportant things could make you remember significant events in your life. Like the heat of the sun that has increased as I finished writing this, and the loudening voices of the people around.
*Midday of January 16, 2010, UST Quadricentennial Square
0 comments:
Post a Comment