The view from the bridge.This afternoon we traveled to Ampawa, home to one of Thailand's most popular floating markets. Slightly less famous than markets closer to Bangkok -- and therefore less touristed by foreigners -- Ampawa gives a more authentic picture of life in one of Thailand's riverside villages.
You literally couldn't move!Of course, being less touristed doesn't make Ampawa any less crowded. Indeed, many areas were so packed with people (though nearly all Thai) that all you could do was sort of shuffle your feet in the direction you wanted to move as the teeming mass of humanity crushing in on you from all sides did the same. It was unreal.
Shot of the docks from above.Part of this doubtless has to do with the inherent disorganization of the main activity at Ampawa: eating. Eating is a more complicated and haphazard process here because the main means of acquiring food is not by sitting down at a table and ordering it -- or even buying it at a stand and meandering along your way -- but by perching precariously at the water's edge and shouting to vendors floating in boats on the river what you'd like to eat, then having them row or motor their way close enough to you to make the exchange. You do this, as seen in the pictures above and below, at the same time about a thousand other people do the same thing.
An atypically neat area of the canal's edge. On the left are a series of flat wooden steps extending down and out over the water. This is where people sit and order and eat their food. On the right are a series of boats selling their wares.
Another shot of the floating marketeers crowding the shore.
A woman selling fruit along the river.The food, naturally, is legendary, especially the seafood. I took a few pictures, which represent less than 1% of the variety and volume of food actually on offer at Ampawa.
Some sort of shellfish -- scallops? -- that the others ordered.
One of my favorite Asian fruits, pommelo,which I was first introduced to by Mrs. Jwo years ago!
I have no idea what this food is, but I think it involvesgrilling miniature bananas (right) encapsulated in bamboo tubes (left).
Brightly-colored confectionery.
More candies... can we tell what my favoritekind of food at Ampawa was?
Grilled squid -- eek!
A gigantic pile of the makings of one of my most belovedThai dishes -- som tum, or green papaya salad.
There were also a variety of shops along the sides of the river which sold various non-edible things, which we shuffled through (pinned in by the river on one side, the stores on the opposite side, and by masses of other people on the other two). I bought an ice pop that I think -- after some inspired internet sleuthing -- was probably roselle flavored. It had an interesting flavor, quite sweet but almost a bit salty too, and a rich mauve color that made me very careful of drips!
Remove shoes before entering!Perhaps the most interesting thing about these stores was that you had to remove your shoes before entering nearly all of them -- something I frequently forgot to do. (On the upside, being obviously foreign has its benefits when seeking forgiveness for unintentional transgressions.)
Plank walkway behind one of the stores. We caught occasional glimpses of what it might be like to live, rather than simply visit, this place. I think it must be challenging.
Some dilapidated buildings along the waterfront,away from the main tourist strip.
Not least of the factors making Ampawa a nice place to visit rather than live is the fog of motor fumes that hung over the river. In addition to all the boaters selling food, there are people manning much larger boats, which cruise up and down the river to give people a tour of the village and its surrounding natural and historical sights.
One of the "cruise" boats.We were scheduled to take a tour of Ampawa in one of these boats, so around 6pm we all dutifully lined up, as the sun began to set and the sky turned dusky colors above the water. As we were all handed orange life preservers, I marveled at the size of the motor on the boat below us. We climbed down one of the sets of wooden steps at the canalside and the first students clambered over the edge of the boat. The boatman turned his key in the ignition, and the boat's motor sputtered to life with an oddly familiar sound. Almost... too familiar. Kind of like...
Blurry picture of the boat's motor....the sound my car used to make when I would start it up to leave for school in the morning. A large metal tube looking suspiciously like an exhaust pipe belched familiar-smelling fumes and a fine dribble of oil out into the water behind the boat. Could it be...?
Blurry picture of another guy cruising pastwith one of these mysterious motors.
Gwen, the only Columbia student on the trip who is actually from Thailand, leaned in to me at that moment. "They're old car engines," she said, gesturing at the motor boats with a mischievous grin. "You're kidding," I said blankly. "Nope!" she giggled, then hopped into the boat.
The lights come on over the river.We hadn't traveled more than 70 seconds before suddenly, with a loud juddering sound, the boat lurched sideways, ricocheting off a boat travelling in the other direction. After a few shouted words -- doubtless rather rude -- between the two boatmen, we were on our way again. I couldn't help thinking of how the iceberg that sank the Titanic actually struck it a glancing blow rather than head on. The ship cruised on away from the iceberg, which had peeled a large swath of metal off the part of the boat below the waterline, allowing a series of the supposedly airtight chambers (the very ones that had led the boat's sponsors to call it "unsinkable") to slowly fill with water as the crew sailed on, oblivious of the ship's peril until it was too late. Was our boat filling with water in the invisible area beneath our feet? We set off down the canal toward the open river. I felt anxious.
Were we motoring to our doom?As it turns out, I needn't have worried. Feeling sick from the unfiltered exhaust fumes and having to shout over the sound of the engine (needed a muffler) were the worst I had to contend with -- and there was much to make up even for these discomforts.
Some kind of historical palace, monastery, or temple.(Couldn't hear what our tour guide said,
for reasons delineated above.)
We saw some beautiful sights as night deepened over Ampawa. I couldn't really hear what anyone was saying about what we passed (I was unluckily seated right in front of the boatman and his car engine), but the beauty of the experience spoke for itself. The absolute highlight of the trip was getting to see the fireflies. Even before our trip, much had been made of these "fireflies" and how nice it would be to take a cruise along the river at night to see them. Now, I like lightening bugs as much as the next Long Islander, and spent many happy evenings chasing them in my backyard, capturing them and even transferring a few into carefully prepared jars (with grass and air holes) before releasing them the following morning. But the fireflies at Ampawa were another experience entirely. Rather than circling about, glowing greenish-yellow at random intervals in the night air, as the fireflies of my youth had done, these insects clung to a certain species of tree lining both edges of the Mae Klong River, glittering faintly yet rapidly with a silvery light that illuminated the delicate structure of the trees themselves. No photo could have captured that vision, so I didn't even try. It was magical.
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