Merry Christmas one and all! Christmas Eve began for us with a holiday quest and ended with a joyful exchange, and was filled with adventure along the way.

After a leisurely breakfast of pork pancakes, salted little fish on a skewer, and sticky rice, we spent a few hours online with coffee and then reunited with the Silamander. We then embarked in search of the Church of Santa Cruz, an old memento of the Portuguese trading empire.

We made our way by tuk-tuk, a first for myself and the Professor. It is an open cab vehicle something like a cross between a motorcycle and a taxi, and much more fun than I expected. It is a wonderful way to view the streetscape of Bangkok with more immediacy, such as the motorcycle delivery boys with giant pressurized gas canisters strapped to their seats, shudder, and the crowds of schoolgirls blocking the narrow alleys that formed the latter part of our route.

The congregation of Santa Cruz was preparing for their Christmas pageant as we arrived, a homespun affair as all such pageants should be. I wished people a “Merry Christmas ka” and we viewed the pink church, which was handsome but no grander than the one I grew up with, and decidedly humble after days of viewing the richest wats in the kingdom. For some reason I expected ethnically Portuguese people among the congregation,but if any existed they were some generations removed, as everyone appeared to be Thai.

Then we strolled down the little alleys to the side of the church and continued our quest. For I confess, dear reader, that I remain a modern pagan. I was happy to spread some Christmas well-wishes and am deeply committed to the Yuletide spirit and its delightful traditions, but I don’t embrace its deeper religious meaning. In short: I came to Santa Cruz looking for Christmas cookies.

And I was not disappointed! In the very first alley, we found a little household bakery making Portuguese Christmas cakes and cookies, including a particular apricot jam cookie which we were told we would not find elsewhere. We bought two cakes and two bags of cookies for the Expat Teacher family, for when we would see them on the evening of Christmas day.

Of course, this left us in a quandary, because we wanted to eat some right away. Deliverance came in the form of another bakery, this one only making slightly smaller cakes. When the woman at the window learned that we planned to eat the little cakes right away, she had us wait under the shade cloth, and brought us fresh ones hot from the oven. Merry Christmas indeed!

Afterwards, we wandered along the shoreline and into a beautiful but dilapidated Chinese Buddhist temple, with gorgeous murals flaking off the walls, yet a number of faithful young people praying and burning incense. We then caught a boat over the Chao Praya river and wandered through and amazing flower market, and then through Chinatown, probably the grittiest Chinatown I have ever seen. The street food was good, as expected, but I think the superlative places were closed for Monday street-cleaning.

By this point we were flagging, when we happened to have, for free, a beautiful experience at a Wat that we had thought inaccessible to us. I will leave it to the Professor to tell that tale, as he was deeply moved by it.

Afterwards, we had our first experience of drinking at a bar with white johns and working girls. Next time, we will pay more attention to signs such as full-sized full-breasted hot pink female mannequin lamps in silver go-go boots at the front door. Incidentally, the song “I want to know what love is” played twice in 10 minutes. We moved on to dinner at Iron Fairies, a charming fay steampunk bar, where I had a mango salad and a delicious Christmas hot chocolate.

Finally, we three returned home by cab. we had the good luck to have a genial Lao expat cab driver, who spoke a little English and actually seemed interested in talking to me. not having that much English, though, he ended up speaking to Silamander the whole way home. he was charming and recommended some places to view in his country, and I went to sleep at night feeling joy to the whole wide world.

– the private eye