Buyin’ and Sellin’ in the ’hood; or, What the Neighbors Say – Part Three

Our soi is more residential than most, but it does have a restaurant or two along its length, as well as a failed nightclub and a thriving brothel. It’s only as I near the main drag that I begin to hear buses and jackhammers and other such city sounds. Otherwise, about the loudest noise we hear at home is the daily broadcast from loudspeakers of the national anthem, at 8am and 6pm.

The main street caters to foreigners of all stripes. Signs outside businesses are more likely to be written in English, Korean, or Japanese than in Thai. Within a ten-minute walk from home, I can find restaurants featuring at least two dozen cuisines. I could buy a new Volvo sedan or a Ford pickup. In the evenings, the sidewalks fill up with vendors hawking everything from fake Rolexes to silk shirts. Sometimes an elephant lumbers through the chaos, led by men selling what they claim is elephant food.

Generally my trips out to the road are for groceries or my own meals. I do the shopping at one of two supermarkets. The aisles in larger one would look familiar to most American shoppers—peanut butter, corn flakes, soy sauce—the main differences being brand names and a few categories that aren’t represented in the States. (Twenty feet of shelf space is devoted to “essence of chicken,” which comes in several flavors, including chocolate.)

That supermarket occupies the basement of a large department store. Next door is a five-star hotel. Across the road is the smaller supermarket, dominated by bargains and more everyday items (holy basil, whiskey, 10-kg. sacks of rice, fish sauce, that kind of thing). Throw in storefronts offering foot massages, lattes, prescription drugs (without a prescription!), and you kind of get the picture.