After mentioning that I had acquired a copy of a book by Dr Iain Corness, I felt a little bad that I haven’t actually had time to read it. So I did the next best thing and contacted the author to ask him to write a little something here. Here is a guest post from the Doc.

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It was Napoleon who rather disparagingly called Britain “that nation of shopkeepers”, but despite surnames like Baker, Butcher and Smith, which are derived from their forefathers’ old trades, Thailand is much more deserving of the title “a nation of shopkeepers”.

In the first volume of Farang, Thailand through the eyes of an expat, I mentioned one of my favourite shopkeepers, the “Sticker Man”, whose mobile shop almost defies description, but that was just one example. Everyone in Thailand seems to have a small shop selling something. And for the point of this exercise, I am ignoring the armies of Avon and Amway ladies, who are always ready to pounce on unsuspecting guests at a dinner party.

I was reminded of all this when the family went to celebrate Loy Krathong on Jomtien Beach. My wife had decided it was time for us to be a little more traditional and let the children help in making our own krathongs, rather than purchasing one from the thousands offered from the pickups parked all the way along Jomtien Beach. After all, in these days of austerity, 20 baht per krathong could be spent elsewhere more productively. For example, the local shop at the end of our street will sell me a can of beer for around that sort of money. (Definitely more attractive than a boat made of banana leaves.)

But let’s get back to commerce. As I just wrote, there are so many pickups selling krathongs, it is almost impossible to park on Beach Road. In between the shophouses are industrious families cutting up banana trunks to be used as the base for the floating arrangement, and folding the banana leaves into something resembling lotus blossoms. The family members make a production line, with the youngest and fittest sawing away at the trunks, while the old grandmothers carry out the final decorations, with the end result flogged by father from the family pick-up.

But on the night of Loy Krathong there were many more entrepreneurs waiting to see if they could liberate my cash from my wallet. We had hardly sat down in the deckchairs (20 baht each) and reached for a beer (100 baht, now there’s inflation for you) when the first of the old crones appeared thrusting a firework (100 baht) into my daughter’s eagerly waiting hand. Little Miss, at aged three and a half is completely savvy with the “possession is nine tenths of the law” concept and instinctively takes all items proffered to her (and some not so proffered). Before “possession” became absolute, said firework was removed from the grasping hand and returned to the vendor, with the first of my chorus of “mai ows”.

Next up, at least a few milliseconds later, was the chap selling the kom loys (another 100 baht). These are mini hot air balloons made from polyethylene film and a paraffin candle as the hot air source. Fortunately the paraffin candle’s life is finite, otherwise they would be finding the non-biodegradable balloons on the moon. No, they all eventually end up in the sea and even more eventually, are returned to the shore, for as long as we have a moon dictating the tides. Some kom loys, like the American space shuttle, are refurbished to fly again next year. Who said the Thais are not interested in the renewable eco-system?

We begged off the kom loy squadron (like the local taxi baht buses, there was one every 30 seconds) as the food sellers had spotted our table was not groaning with edibles. The first of these restaurants on the move are the traditional ones who carry both the product and the oven to cook it on. Steamers with prawns cooking away are placed beside you to tempt the palate. Ditto the calamari cooker. The squid got the nod (another 60 baht gone).

But modern commerce dictates “instant” food-to-go, as per the American Maccas concept of family fodder, and the Thais have adopted and adapted. Trays of deep-fried breaded prawns, green mango salad and similar items all in polystyrene boxes are paraded past you. The food may not last forever, but the boxes will!

(The above is an extract from the sequel I am writing to my book Farang, Thailand through the eyes of an ex-pat. I have been delighted with the response, with one’s first book you spend much time wondering if people will like it, or will it end up on the remaindered table within a week. So far that has not happened, it is now on its second print run and has been the best selling book in Pattaya for 16 weeks. And nobody has rung me to say it’s a pile of crap, so it must be OK!)

The book is available from Bookazine and Asia Books at a cost of 495 baht.