In the midst of all the uncertainties in my childhood, there was one thing I was sure of: every Saturday at 10:00 am, on the dot, our doorbell would ring. And, unfailingly, the opened front gate would reveal a tiny old lady hawker, Pa (“Auntie”) On, who always had on her face a huge grin that unveiled betel-stained teeth speckled with gold fillings and on her shoulder a bamboo stick on which two baskets full of traditional Thai desserts hung.[1]
With its inhabitants always fully committed to buying enough of her various steamed treats in banana leaf packets to last them a week at a time, Pa On never had to wonder if she’d make a sale at this house. The moment she set her baskets down at the front gate, she knew someone would come out with a wallet and she would depart with her baskets weighing about half of what they did when she’d arrived.
This house was her Destination Unload Point. Continue Reading →
