By Sai Silp
August 2006
An unassuming market in central Chiang Mai brings the city’s Burmese community together for food, fellowship and the comforts of their native land
Talad Ban Hor (literally, “Yunnanese market”) is not a typical market in Thailand’s northern city of Chiang Mai. Adjacent to the popular Night Bazaar, and dwarfed by that popular tourist destination, the Yunnanese market, better known as the Shan or Friday market, comprises a few dozen stalls in the backyard of a private residence on Charoenprathet Road.
Largely hidden, except from those who know where to look, the small market represents more than a place to shop for Chiang Mai’s large—and similarly hidden—Burmese community.
“I come here every Friday because I can find many things that remind me of my home in Lashio (Shan State, Burma),” said Nuan, a Shan garment worker living in Chiang Mai. “Besides that, it is a place where I can meet friends from my home town.”

Most of the market’s vendors are ethnic Shan, but a few Thais also run stalls that offer fresh produce, grown and harvested by migrant Shan workers in the north and used in traditional Shan cuisine—one of the strongest attractions for market-goers.
The smells of mohinga, a Burmese curried noodle soup, and Tofu Oon, a Yunnanese noodle and bean curd soup popular among Shan communities, as well as a teashop that offers Burmese tea and snacks, draw crowds of Burmese each Friday who long for some small reminder of home.
But the Shan market has a much broader appeal. “This is an unseen place in Chiang Mai,” said Bunchai, a Thai shop owner who works in the Night Bazaar. He learned of it from an ethnic Shan shop assistant. Bunchai said that the market appeals to many Thais, who have come to love the flavors of Burmese and Shan cuisine.

Poungpetch Wongluekiat, 77, owns the century-old teak compound that houses the Shan market and says that the now popular weekly destination began with a handful of stalls set up randomly in front of her home.
“At first, there were just a few Akha and Shan vendors, but they persuaded some of their friends—including some Yunnanese—to join,” said Poungpetch.
In the last 10 years, the Chiang Mai Municipality Office has organized the vendors in this area, and Poungpetch set aside a portion of her compound to accommodate the market. It is a legacy she inherited from her father, a trader from Yunnan.
The market’s location was once a major route for Muslim traders from China’s Yunnan province, who for centuries traveled through Burma into the ancient northern Thai Lanna kingdom.
Though small, today’s market earns steady business from city residents and visitors from farther north. It operates from dawn to late morning every Friday, and while it is not the only place in Chiang Mai—or northern Thailand—that offers goods from Burma, it has proven to be one of the most popular.
“I come directly from Fang [150 km north of Chiang Mai] every Friday because trading here is better,” said Nang Jai, an ethnic Yunnanese, who has sold her homemade pickled vegetables at the market for 10 years.
Burmese goods can be found in other parts of the city, notably in the Pong Noi temple compound behind Chiang Mai University and from select vendors in the Night Bazaar. But the Shan market fills a much-needed niche among the city’s large Burmese population.
Here, fellow Burmese expatriates cut off from their homeland—for political or economic reasons—can gather over a morning cup of tea or a steaming bowl of mohinga, and share stories of the land to which they all hope one day to return.
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