The Golden Hour of Laan Sukaprok
(Part 3)
©  - Travelers' Net

- text by Joe Josef
-pictures by trv.net

Much too bright

Later still the garbage men come to collect the piles of rubbish. That is nothing as prosaic as it sounds. The first thing you notice are the lights. I don't know who has equipped the vehicle, but it always reminds me of that blinking thing in the sky of "Blade Runner". Flashlights on the back and the rear, colored lights all around the truck. The next thing you notice is the sound of the engine and finally - the stench. The guys cling to the truck like monkeys to a tree. When the thing stops, they jump down and attack the rubbish piles with their bare hands.

I have always admired these guys. Actually I have bestowed my earthly belongings to them. There is wonderful symbolism in giving the last of me to a team of cleaners. And I am sure they can put my CD collection of Frank Sinatra - my only worldly possession besides a 13 years compilation of The "Bartenders Union" - to good use.

As the hours drift away like sand between a child's fingers, mee jinn gets eaten, Heineken gets drunken and everybody is either merry or pretends to be. Suddenly it is six in the morning and the waitresses do not have to move so much any more. Finally only a couple of katoys and a small group of older bargirls still cling to a table with the dwindling hope of making a lucky draw.

After a dozen of Radlers the dawning world looks grim, spoilt and much too bright. But the waitresses seem more awake than ever and all of a sudden a new breed of visitors pour in.

Lunch is slow

The decelerating diminuendo of bassoons is quickly being substituted by crisp horns and piccolo flutes as bank clerk and office workers occupy the empty seats. With a quick disapproving glance they take in the katoy-bargirl scenario and place their energetic bodies in the green and blue plastic chairs. It is wonderful to behold their fresh, polite and clean appearance. But they don't stay for long. Not more than an hour and they are gone.

From now until noon only a few people are still breakfasting. Usually it is hot already at this time of the day. Thai people are not great breakfasters and most farangs are either still asleep or at work already.

Lunch is even slower. Every sensible person rests in the shade, taking a nap. Time for the girls to rinse the vegetables and prepare the meat.

Only from four o'clock in the afternoon things begin to happen gradually. The first boozers show up. Hippies with long hair and beard, which have mistaken the direction of Goa, India. Balding beerbellies; serious drinkers, who don't care about looks any more. There is always the odd guest or couple with a rucksack or a sportsbag. Sometimes - but very seldom -even spectacled backpacker with his worn copy of "Lonely Planet".

Late evening/early night is soon to come again. And with it a new performance of the endless concert of life.

Part 4