Bangkok is in the sixth week of a virtual shutdown that has stripped the capital of the very things which define it, for better or worse.
Gone is its nauseating traffic, and empty are its malls. Rows of fashionable bars lie shuttered, there’s a hush over normally chaotic Chinatown, and the monitor lizards and ravens have Lumphini Park all to themselves.
Digital billboards carry on like nothing is amiss in contrast to the ghostly CentralWorld mall behind them. Along mall row, in front of Siam Paragon, taxis queue for no one and nearly empty buses parade by on schedule.
But one place that seems to defy all that, or any sense of crisis, is the capital’s Khlong Toei Market. The sprawling fresh market adjacent to the capital’s largest slum remains packed with people shopping for meat, seafood, and dry goods, all elbow-to-elbow with each other and the vendors who appear to be taking little precaution.
Here social distancing does not exist. The place just isn’t built for it. On a recent visit, masked buyers made their way through narrow aisles selecting ingredients for the kitchens feeding Bangkok.
On a recent afternoon, vendors said things have been slower – but didn’t seem overly concerned with taking precautions.
“It’s quieter, fewer people,” a seller called Lek said as he hacked away at heads of cabbage.
Asked what workers like him were doing to combat the outbreak, he listed some best practices – wash hands, wear masks, despite the fact he wasn’t doing so himself.
Lek and other vendors shrugged off concerns in similar terms. “Keep going, push forward, don’t give up,” he said with a smile.
Many of those working in the market hail from the adjacent slum community where tens of thousands of the capital’s poorest families live in close quarters. Despite concerns that it could be ravaged by infection, it hasn’t emerged as a hot spot.
In the market, there’s little alternative to doing what’s necessary to maintain small incomes.
Busaba, who was tending a small shop, said her “sales have dropped quite a bit.” As for the outbreak, her best strategy was to “wash your hands, stay far away from each other and use disinfectant.”
Over by heaps of durian, a seller named Golf was slicking open the smelly, thorny delicacy. Prices looked marked down below the normal selling price.
“It’s bad, but I can still get by,” Golf said. “I keep carrying on. We’ve got to fight on. We can’t change the situation. We need to pray for the virus to go away.”
Related:
Khlong Toei Rising: Anxiety and unity in Bangkok’s biggest slum
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