Lost on Earth

There is a night market here in Mae Hong Son that will last until the end of October. It is a quiet affair, with local vendors selling things they made themselves on one street, and a prodigious food market on another street, where the Thais lazily stroll from stall to stall, swinging bags of goodies wrapped in green leaves.

This evening, as I was prowling the food market for dinner (I chose some sticky rice, chili paste, and satay) the lights flickered simultaneously, and then abruptly went out. The people in the market let out a collective "oi!" but it was good natured. All of the late night diners sitting by the lake continued to joke with each other, sip their beer, and paw at their sticky rice in the dark. Some children brough out a package of sparkler fireworks leftover from the lent festival, and soon flares of pink and blue lit the street. I tiptoed to the side of the lake and waited for the lights to come on – and chanced to look up. The stars were twinkling with vigor, and for the first time since I was a little girl I saw the murky streak of the milky way. Honestly, I am so unused to nights without light pollution that I had quite forgotten about the existence of the milky way.

Five minutes later, while I stared open mouthed at the sky and Thai people caroused around me in the dark, the lights went on, and a whoop erupted from the market. The people assumed their original positions and commenced to shuffle in their flipflops, swing their bags of leafed treats, and yell good natured insults at each other.