A moment of connection

Wandering through the lovely messiness that is Chatuchak market in Bangkok on my own; I'd lost Wenjie and a few others even though we'd arrived together as I had to go to the toilet. I chanced upon a stall that sold an assortment of pirated "indie" things like Belle and Sebastian CDs. The guy manning the shop had dreadlocks in his hair and greeted me with a friendly smile as I stepped in. I wanted to stay a little bit longer but I had to look for the rest because knowing me, there was a high chance I wouldn't have been able to make my own way to Nana station; as it is, I was miserable because it was rainy and cold, and my orange fisherman pants was splashed with mud and dirt and I badly wanted to go back to Suk 11 to shower. Just before I stepped out of the store, I saw that the guy was reading something with a familiar cover; it was Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore, although he was reading the Thai translation of it. Murakami is one of my favourite authors in recent times. It was the exact same book I was reading just after the exams and before I left for Thailand. It was a strange moment of unexpected connection (but what did I expect from the owner of a stall selling pirated Belle and Sebastian CDs?), and I exclaimed in delight that I'd just finished reading the same book. He smiled at my enthusiasm and said, "it's a good book". I wanted to stay and discuss it with him, but it would have been pointless, because of the language barrier.

It was strange. Someone with my taste in music, and my taste in literature, but from a completely different culture. I wanted to ask him what he thought about the book, but I didn't.

Later on, unsurprisingly, I couldn't find the shop again, when I wanted to go back.