The Nightlife In Bangkok's Chinatown

Row upon row of tiny wooden phallic images lie next to a large pile of Buddha amulets. An old man, the proprietor of this impromptu street stall, waves a curious onlooker a little closer. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out some condoms and what look like furry rubber bands embedded with plastic studs and lays them on the table. "Wear this amulet and use this rubber ring," the old man says to his obviously shy customer, "and your wife will never be disappointed again."

Similar deals are going down all around them, while not far away, waiters and waitresses nearly fall over themselves in their mad rush to carry steaming-hot bowls of bird's nest soup to impatient customers. Just around the corner from them, two old women carrying racks full of clothes dodge through the street's speeding traffic, trying to transport the evening's merchandise safely to their market space.

Crowds of people mill back and forth under the vibrant glow of banks of neon lights, almost bright enough to turn night into day. Everyone appears busy, looking like they always have at least one more place to go and one more thing to do before they can rest. Their nighttime adventures are serenaded by the piercing sounds of car horns crying out in a futile attempt to improve the surrounding gridlock. Welcome to Chinatown at night, Bangkok style.

The word "anarchy" takes on a whole new meaning when you start talking about Bangkok's Yaowarat area after dark. Never has so much controlled chaos been so much of a delight for visitors to the Kingdom. For when the sun goes down, the hustle and bustle of this unique neighborhood turns into an open invitation to find out why it is one of Thailand's most popular tourist sites.

As you walk along the pavement on any night in Bangkok's Chinatown, you can't help but be amazed by the sheer number of hawkers selling food, or the satisfaction that shines in the faces of those crowded around their tables. You'll have to squeeze between the backs of people hunched over piping-hot bowls of noodles as you try to navigate the narrow sidewalks. Duck your head as you walk (so you can avoid the overhanging wires that take electricity to the vendor's stalls) and look off to the side and you will see virtually everything that was ever in your high school biology textbooks being used in one dish or another.

"Sharks Fin Soup," the handmade sign reads in faded letters. Four old Sino-Thai men sit at the table next to the stand, their arms grinding spoons into the green plastic bowls almost in rhythm with their slurping. So enraptured in this traditional Chinese delicacy are they that they aren't aware of the construction work that is going on just above their heads. Nor do they notice the electrical sparks caused by this work that keep falling to the ground not more than a meter away from their table.

Even more popular with the residents of Chinatown is bird's nest soup, which is sold in every size of establishment. From the tiniest sidewalk stall, to the largest multi-floored restaurant, there are dozens of shops that cater to the tastes (and pocket 3 books) of the connoisseurs of this sweet stew.

You may be wondering why anyone on earth would want to spend a small fortune on a bowl of soup that contains the saliva and secretions of a small swift that makes its home in the southern islands of Thailand. The answer is rather surprising in its simplicity.

"This soup is a great aphrodisiac," says Ah Peng, a mid-thirties owner of a street stall, as he juggles a soup ladle in one hand and a bowl in the other. He doesn't try to hide his enthusiasm for his wares as he continues; "It (the soup) is far better as an aphrodisiac than all the herbal medicine sold in markets," he pauses to fill up another bowl with the light broth and then continues, "and it's also a lot cheaper than ground up tiger penises."

But what about all the amulets and rubber devices that street hawkers claim will help their customers satisfy even the most demanding of women? How do these stack up against stewed bird excrement?

"Don't believe what they tell you," he warns in a tone of voice half serious and half joking. "Look at how many customers there are for bird's nest soup compared to how many customers those 'doctors' have. Bird's nest soup is far more popular," he says confidently.

Another animal that unfortunately has the reputation of being beneficial among Chinese people is the snake. Fortunately (for the serpents) their popularity as health food has been declining recently, and now there is only one stall left that sells snake tonic. An old man who sets up shop in the middle of Soi Phadung Dao (about 300 meters from the eastern end of Yaowarat Rd) is reputed to be able to brew any concoction to cure what ails you from the blood and meat of snakes. He only occasionally comes to sell in Chinatown nowadays, as he has a shop in Khlong Toey District that is reportedly keeping him busy on most nights.

Of course, there are at least half a dozen air-conditioned restaurants offering food that is much more familiar to westerners. Most of these sell northern and central-style food, such as Mandarin and Shanghai cuisine, but there is also a restaurant specializing in the Cantonese cuisine of the south of China. It is called Li Key, and is located about half-way down Charoen Krung Rd. If you can't decide which of the many places to try, just find the one that has plenty of healthy-looking customers and you can't go wrong.

You can't stroll along through Chinatown for more than 20 meters without bumping into a stand selling Chinese-language magazines and cassette tapes. These usually feature some of Hong Kong's hottest pop stars, who incidentally happen to be that colony's hottest movie stars, too. You can't be blamed for thinking that there is an on-going war for customers between some of the cassette stalls, as they literally flood the streets with the over-produced pop music that is so popular with overseas Chinese. Well, at least it drowns out the din of the traffic.

Near the eastern end of Charoen Krung Rd where it crosses with Yaowarat Rd is a night market that opens at sundown and closes up at about 10:00 PM. Long rows of stalls line the sidewalk selling clothing for teenagers and aspiring rap stars. The 3 prices are ok, but if you wait until they are just about to pack up for the night, they will probably cut you a special bargain. Walk carefully around here, as little kids like to hide beneath the stalls and dart out in front of you at the last minute. Cute at first, their routine gets a little monotonous after about the 30th time.

Beyond the clothing stalls are a couple of tables with second-hand televisions stacked upon them. You can pick up a 14-inch color t.v. for about 2,900 baht. Larger and better quality models are available as well for only a little more. At the very far end are a few stalls that have ghetto blasters for sale. Despite being wrapped in plastic shrink wrap, these portable stereos are really all second-hand items. Prices are marked from 1,600 on up to around 3,200, and it's hard to get the owners to lower them.

Across the street from this market is the place to head if you're looking for some of the more unusual items that can be had in Bangkok. Most of the stalls here consist of a lone weathered briefcase lying open-faced on the sidewalk. Inside these bags are piles of watches, whole and in parts, as well as religious icons and the above-mentioned sexual aids. Sitting on newspapers nearby are old men selling musty books, written in Chinese, that appear to have been printed in the 40s and 50s. There are also plenty of people who just set what ever they have for sale on the ground. Their "displays" usually consist of what can only be described as "household junk," and their wares are typically illuminated from the weak light of a lone candle. The stuff is cheap, but pretty unusual.

Not surprisingly, most of the tourists that stay in Bangkok's Chinatown are ethnic Chinese, coming mostly from Malaysia and Singapore, but also with significant numbers from Hong Kong and Taiwan. These are sophisticated folk, and they don't seem too interested in exploring the dingy markets selling arcane goods. Instead, they require something that will reward their intellectual needs.

Karaoke bars, Japan's revenge on the west for Hiroshima and Nagasaki, are the mainstays of the overseas Chinese night life scene throughout the world. Sadly to say, Bangkok's Chinatown hasn't been spared this plague, and there are no less than four karaoke bars in the immediate vicinity. Why are they so popular?

"Normally, overseas-Chinese tourists like to spend the night with prostitutes," says Somchai Turonngkinand, Assistant Manager at the China Grand Princess Hotel. "Of course, some just like to spend the evening having a good time with their friends in the company of beautiful women," he quickly adds.