Welcome to the Jungle

Tad Tung Kwian Market (aka - Jungle Market)

Remember when I first got Bixby and he and I decided to drive out of town to find the “Jungle Market?” Do you remember that I happened to stumble upon the Thai Elephant Conservation Center instead? Well, with the help of some fellow Ferrang, I finally stumbled upon the "Jungle Market" today, and let me tell you what an experience that was.

A little background for you, the market is officially called Kad Tung Kwian. It quite literally translates to mean a field of horse drawn carts. The local Ferrang affectionately coined it the “Jungle Market” or the “Crazy Market.” If you ask any Westerner in the Lampang area, they will more than likely know what you are referring to. Don’t get me wrong, the market actually has some great things to purchase, but let me just say that I am happy to know that this is not the type of market that is situated near my home, otherwise I’d be about 13.6 kilograms (30 lbs) lighter than I already am. Prior to our arrival, I was warned by some of the more seasoned Ferrang about what I would encounter at the “Jungle Market,” but I was still not prepared for what I experienced.

To start off, the market is up in the hills, about 20 kilometers (12.5 miles) north of Lampang, on your way to Chiang Mai. It is quite literally right before you get to the Thai Elephant Conservation Center – how I missed it the first go around, I am still baffled. The nickname was spawned because it is situated in the hills, and there is not much around besides, well, the jungle, really. After parking the car we begin to explore the market. As I am the only “Jungle Market” virgin with the group, I obviously brought my camera to document the whole thing. We start by exploring the food vendors, because I’m told this is the craziest part of the market. This was quite the understatement.

At first glance, the food portion of the market seems to be your average Thai market. Sure, there are some bizarre things that you wouldn’t find at a Western style market, but I think I’ve grown accustomed to these things at this point. So accustomed, in fact, that I don’t even know what to describe to you as odd about the first few stands we walked by. The usual breads, fruits, seeds, and the rest of those things that keep you ‘regular’ with beautiful skin. However, this quickly changed as we made our way toward the back of the market.

As we ventured toward the back, we quickly came across a vendor with a table of nothing but fried bugs. You name it, they had fried it up, I presume seasoned it, and put it to be sold by the kilogram. They had crickets, cockroaches, maggots, and a few other former larva that I couldn’t quite place. My favorite part was when the woman brought out a “fresh” batch of maggots that she had just taken out of the cooker (a student taught me that fried maggots is translated into “instant fried” in English – don’t ask how this came up in class, I’m dumbfounded myself sometimes). She was obviously a seasoned pro at this, because she did this with an enormous amount of accuracy and perseverance so as to avoid having the maggots mix in with the other piles of fried bugs on the same table. It was like she was simply restocking the “buy-by-bulk-bins” at the grocery store. Similar to the grocery store – there was a little saucer type dish in each pan. The vendor would give you a bag to scoop your own beasties into the bag. Just like buying peanuts in the shell or Brach’s caramels in bulk at the local grocer, you would scoop up your desired amount and take it to her to be weighed. The only thing missing was the machine that prints out the automatic barcode for when you go up to the register to pay, otherwise it was just like home – minus the tentacles. No big deal – I’d seen the vendors at the market by my house occasionally selling bugs. However, I will say that this woman had the most variety and bulk I’d seen in bugs thus far in Thailand. Impressive, to say the least.

As we proceed down the aisle, I am taken aback by two vendors in the same section who are selling pork. Now, I’ve been to the butcher shop in the states before. Usually the meat is on ice or finely ground down and sitting on a pan of sorts – awaiting your carnivorous appetite to take it home. Well, gone are the days of glass enclosures, or even skinning the meat before you put it out for display. I walk up to this table of freshly cut pig and the skin is still the outermost layer on the cutlet. I was not raised on a farm, but I’ve seen my share of pigs in the past. I’m not even joking with you when I say this had to be at least 3 porkers whose existence was now reduced to being piled high on a table at the “Jungle Market.” As if this wasn’t enough to turn most Westerners into vegetarians on-the-spot, there was a bucket next to the table. Let me clarify “next to the table.” What I really mean is, it was definitely in the aisle in plain view for all to see. What was the purpose of the bucket you ask? Oh, that’s simple – it was there to collect the blood as it drained from the freshly killed “Wilburs.” Trust me when I say I’ve seen some blatantly foul things in my day. I mean, my previous job was in housing services at a university – I’ve seen and smelled things that most people would lose their lunch over. This bucket collecting the once vital fluid of this swine was quite possibly one of the sickest things I’ve seen. The bucket was nearly filled a third of the way to the top, and the drops continued to come out. Like a faucet that’s been left running so the pipes won’t freeze, the blood continued to trickle out. And never mind having the meat sit on ice – I think we were lucky the pigs weren’t being escorted in on the spot! Eliminating pork from my dinner options for the evening, we decided to continue on in the market.

Next stop – the poultry department. Or, at least that’s what I would have classified this section as if I were in a traditional grocer in the Western world. Something tells me though, the local Jewel or Dominick’s wouldn’t be selling any of these products. The first product we encountered were fried chicken or turkey intestines – and like everything in Thailand, it was on a stick. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; if you want to sell any food product in Thailand, put it on a stick – especially meat! They will quite literally eat it up. Turkey intestines, that’s fine! I grew up with grandparents who were fresh off the boat from Germany who swore that the best part about the Thanksgiving holiday was the bag of innards that came along with the turkey. Not sharing in their choice of cuisine, I understood this was a part of their culture and tradition. What I was not prepared for was the the skewered poultry embryos that really set me off. Yes, embryo, as in almost fully developed bird of some kind. Curious how you get an embryo on a stick? I wasn’t either, but I was certainly told anyway. I learned that when they embryo is in its final stages of development, the egg is severed with a stick, the shell is cracked off, and the embryo is cooked and seasoned to eat. I’ve also been told that sometimes they leave the shell on. There went all of my good thoughts about the Thanksgiving holiday, or eating eggs in general. Eliminating chicken and egg from my dinner options for the evening, we continue throughout the rest of the market.

My favorite part about the whole experience was the fact that we also had two self-proclaimed vegetarians, and to tell you the honest truth – after this experience I was thinking maybe there’s something to that lifestyle. After all, the worse thing you’ll find with vegetables is the occasional bug or bruise. The remainder of the “Jungle Market” was relatively tame, compared to the ‘food’ area. There were some caged animals, whose fate I had seen only moments prior. The best part of the market was the non-food items they were selling. I bought myself two Thai-style shirts for the bargain price of 250 Baht ($7.15). I also noticed some great gift ideas for my family and friends. That’s right – bulk purchase of ‘hoppers’ for stocking stuffers! Merry Christmas from Thailand.