Is that a squirrel? I gazed at the rows and rows of cages in front me and tried to identify the critters on little leashes. It has been 6 hours since we first entered the unfamiliar world, of Chatuchak Market, commonly referred to as JJ market (Chatuchak is pronounced Jatujak in Thai) on the outskirts of Bangkok. To describe the market as overwhelming is a little like describing Seattle as rainy. Seattle will lure you in with a few nice days…some sun a gentle breeze and then…wham 7 straight months of constant drizzle. JJ market did the same to us…entice bargain adventure shoppers with the promise of great deals of unusual items and then…WHAM. I don’t even thing we had made it out of the 50 rows of stalls all selling beaded necklaces before we were completely engulfed.
For novices such as myself there are maps available – you will quickly discover that they are useless, not to scale and I think designed to trap you. My travel buddy Christopher and I wandered directionless from section to section of this massive market. The market seems to divided into sections for ease of use...there is a pottery section that contains hundreds of pottery vendors. Turn the corner and you are now entering the world of faux flowers. Several aisles later you stumble into an area dedicated to bamboo dishes. I think you get the picture, now imagine this – hundreds of stalls, aisles dedicated all to one product…no imagine every product in the world available for purchase…you will begin to understand why JJ market needs to be 35 acres in size.
This is day 5 for me in SE Asia and my body has now reached the pinnacle of travel discomfort. The heat has caused me to develop some sort of prickly rash and the pedal edema that originally started on one of my 3 international flights has only increased in size. Not only do I no longer have ankles, I no longer have knees – it looks like thighs all the way to the ground. I don’t dare step on a scale, but I am willing to bet that I am retaining at least 13 pounds of water in each lower extremity. These are not ideal physical conditions to be in to tackle a massive third world flea market. The small aisles, armloads of inevitable purchases and stifling heat must be tackled however in order to check Chatuchak market off my bucket list.
While wandering through the section of upscale Thai furniture, which is really just a whole lot of Pier Ones all strung together, I declared that I wanted to visit the infamous animal section. The guidebook had cautioned that this unique area must be seen to be appreciated but that PETA members probably wouldn’t care for it. I am an animal lover and was looking forward, although with cautious trepidation, to seeing some of the unique offerings that JJ market had. The first 10 rows that we stumbled upon seemed very similar to a SuperPet back home…little yappy dogs in cages with bows in their fur…hundreds of tropical fish stuffed in a tank…cats gazing at passersby with contempt. I have to admit, I was quite underwhelmed by the selection…that it until I ventured deeper into the heart of the animal area.
The further off the beaten path we wandered the more bizarre it became. Golden Pheasants, storks, cockatoos, parrots, McCaws all crammed into small cages would act as show pieces at the front of the stall while the back cages would house hundreds of roosters. There were crates of baby chicks next to cages that appeared to have a life all their own as they wiggled under the simultaneous motion of many mice. I pondered why anyone would even need this many mice until I realized that I was staring at lunch for the animals a little further down the aisle. Snakes, that I am fairly certain do not occupy the same corner of the globe, were crammed into giant aquariums next to a cage that housed an alligator that was wrapped in a pretzel shape just to fit in the tiny space. I have never felt pity for a reptile before. There was the pelt of a tiger on one table and I indignantly asked the vendor if it was real, I think he thought I was trying to purchase a “real” as in “live” tiger and he tried with vigor to coax me into his back room.
Deciding we had seen enough, Christopher and I tried to make our way out of this section but analogous to a Vegas Casino, leaving is not as easy as it seems. We wandered around, completely disoriented while birds so young their feathers haven’t even come in yet stared at us from their captive homes next to tanks of exotic fish and boxes with bizarre looking lizards. I finally broke down and asked one little English speaking girl what was in these rows and rows of cages that every stall seemed to have, all I could make out was cute, small and furry. “Baby squirrels – for pets” was her response. Her response did not surprise me as I had guessed the animal correctly, what I was taken aback at was the clarification that they were for “pets”. I worried that if I looked up one of those cartoon light bulbs would be above my head…some of these animals were not intended to be a beloved household pet, some were destined for dinner!
Almost frantic to leave now, we turned down an aisle based on the rationale that I could see light at the end of it…certainly it had to be to the edge of the market or at least another section. Hurrying down the aisle as fast as the cramped conditions and my tree trunk sized extremities would allow, I ran smack into Christopher when he stopped short. I peeked around him and there were fifty pairs of wide eyes staring us down, our pale faces sticking out in a sea of brown ones. No one said anything to us as their attention was drawn back to the center of a circle they were gathered around. As Christopher and I shoved our way through the crowd, I peeked in to the middle to see what had captivated the attention of everyone so fast…it was a cock fighting ring. Now my eyes were the wide ones as I watched two full grown roosters, both missing a significant amount of feathers pecking feverishly at each other.
The light that I had envisioned to be our saving grace, our ticket away from this peculiar world of animal vending turned out to be backstage for the cock fights. Not wanting a repeat appearance at the center ring, we rushed through the area that I would guess seldom tourists have the opportunity to see, not really a loss at all on their end. Roosters, in different stages of health sat trapped under wicker baskets while others, prize winners, had fantastic cages. There was even an odd little warm up area; I guess even cocks need to stretch before the big match.
It took as another 20 minutes or so of stumbling through the market until we made it to the “food court”. No Orange Julius here. Lunch selections included fresh grilled squid, containers heaping with fried eggs, shrimp so fresh they were climbing out of the bin and the ever-present veggie spring roll, the stable of my Thai diet. General chaos abounded while were ushered to plastic chairs, surrounded by a cacophony of languages and fed some sort of delicious noodle dish – I just home none of the additives came from the animal section of the market, thinking back to those cute baby squirrels.
Fueled up on a delicious Thai lunch we were able to set out tackle anther few thousand vendors before eventual exasperation and exhaustion set in. Departing the market we were not only richer because of the unique experience and all the sites we had a chance to see…we were richer because of the armloads of market crap that came away with us; pottery, wooden carvings, jewelry, T-shirts but no, no squirrels.
