Later that afternoon, Maria leaned out the window and inhaled city fumes. Traffic roared five storeys below, and clusters of trees surrounded the mix of corrugated metal and cement roofs of nearby buildings. She drummed her nails against the window frame and exhaled slowly. Exploring Bangkok couldn't be as intimidating as she was imagining. It was just another city, with a different language and culture. After gathering her hair, which felt too long in the heat and humidity, she pulled it into a ponytail then headed downstairs.

When she reached the gates at street-level, the security guards wished her good luck with big smiles. A local man in a baggy t-shirt hurried by, carrying bulging bags of fresh produce. She could use some of that too. Maria retraced his path to find others clutching similar items. A little exploring might build her appetite before sunset.

Food-stand vendors, stirring fishy simmering soup and tending to barbecues, spoke in rapid-fire Thai. She leaned in close to a metal food cart with a giant vat of soup to inhale the savoury aroma. That went on her to-try list.

She responded to the man's next Thai phrase with, "Sorry I can't speak Thai yet. Do you speak English?"

He gave her a funny look and muttered more Thai.

The street-food options impressed her: mouth-watering pork satays, fried chicken, spicy sautéed noodles, or bagged salad should she want to test her Cipro pills. For the next while, she would stick to restaurants and whatever cooking with Dan's old hotplate. For that, she'd need to find the nearest market, a real market with fresh fruits and vegetables that would make her family rejoice.

Farther down the sidewalk, in an open lot, people, produce, and vendors spilled out of a sprawling striped tent. It shaded half a dozen long rows of tables piled with fruit, vegetables and meat. Motorbikes whizzed by on the sidewalks, and she squeezed between large trucks who used her path as a parking spot and a concrete fence.

Locals browsed through bamboo and wicker baskets filled with colourful chilli peppers. There must have been six different varieties. Maria took a short video of the market's offerings to share for the contest tomorrow. A woman behind tables of various unfamiliar green vegetables shouted in high-pitched Thai to the slow-moving local patrons. At least Maria recognized the numbers on top of the products.

Stopping at a table full of fruit, Maria stopped recording to sniff a few mangos to test their ripeness. She picked out a bright pink shelled dragon fruit to work into a dessert for an entry this week. Sunshine had raved about the tropical fruits in Thailand, and Maria's father always lamented Canadian produce could never rival Asian fresh products. Maria was eager to reach her verdict. With a smile, she extended her items and a bunch of bananas to the vendor. After the woman took the fruit, her words blended to sound like 'noon' and 'baht'. Baht was Thai currency, so Maria dug out her wallet.

"Do you speak English?" she asked.

Furrowing her brow, the woman brought her thumb and index finger together as if to crush a small, invisible person. "Nit noi, little."

Maria held out an array of blue, green and red bills.

"Nueng Roi," the woman intoned, taking the red hundred-baht bill. "Ha sip." She grabbed the blue fifty.

As the vendor bagged up the fruit, Maria echoed her words syllable by syllable. The people beside her laughed and whispered.

"Why you no speak Thai?" A young man in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt clutched a bag of orange curry.

She held back a laugh. "Because I came to Thailand yesterday."

"You no Thai? You Cambodia, Philippines?"

"I'm Canadian." Maria accepted the produce with a proper Thai thank you, which made the woman smile.

"Canada have dark skin?" He followed her to the next vendor. "No!"

Maria focused on the trays of lemongrass stalks, leafy bok choy and gai lan, spiky bitter melon, and galangal root, racking her mind for dishes to create. Possibly a stir-fry or a hot pot soup. The man stood beside her, staring at her every move.

Since he refused to take the hint, she turned to him. "Canada has all skin: dark, light, brown."

"You very pretty for dark skin." He ran to his friend and hollered in Thai.

Maria shook her head, wondering how many times she'd have this conversation. Down the next aisle, stews and curries enticed her with their rich aromas. She wasn't willing to risk food poisoning yet, but her stomach gurgled, either adapting to the time zone or perhaps still upset about the airline meals. Soon, she passed the pungent seafood and meat section. Deep-fried whole fish stared up at her with vacant eyes beside large slabs of pork and chicken sitting out in the heat. Adrian would have a hundred comments about this place, but she suppressed them all. This was her trip, not his.

Satisfied with her purchases, she headed to 7-11 to pick up a SIM card for her unlocked phone. Nothing fancy, just to send texts or call Emma or Prae since they'd both shared their numbers.

As she entered the air-conditioned store, the door dinged, and the man working at the front smiled at her. She navigated each narrow aisle, finding everything from movies to lobster-flavoured chips to dried seaweed. There was even a liquor section, but no SIM cards, which would be a problem as she couldn't speak Thai.

After she picked up a large bottle of water, a head of red hair poked over the bread display. Around the corner, she caught the eye of another foreigner. Perfect, maybe he spoke English.

"Hi," she called out.

He looked behind him before meeting her gaze and flashing a smile. "Hi."

"Do you know how to buy a SIM card? I've heard they're here, but they're well hidden."

The man laughed, revealing his dimples. "Yeah, are you a tourist or sticking around a while? It affects the SIM type, I'm not trying to be nosey."

"I'm teaching, so hopefully here a while?"

Another smile brightened his pale, freckle-dusted face. "Small world, you're not replacing Daniel, are you?"

Warmth filled her chest as she nodded.

"Sorry, where are my manners? I'm Tom." He held out his hand, and they shared a firm handshake.

"Maria."

"Sunshine's cousin?"

"Yes!" she said more enthusiastically than intended and grinned.

"We'll be at the same school. I teach science in the junior high stream."

As they lined up behind a teenage couple, Tom reassured her about her students and the supportive school. At the till, he spoke to the clerk in a mix of English and Thai to get her SIM card.

"Here, I can help you activate it if you want."

Tom stretched out his hand, then retracted it as she took a second to respond. Was it he being normally helpful or was she unintentionally flirting with him? His hesitation probably meant friendly. She unlocked her phone and handed it over. He pried the polka-dot case off and slipped in the SIM. After a quick call and punching in numbers, he returned the device.

"I hope you don't mind, I added my number in case you ever need anything, or get lost, or..." He scratched his neck and looked through the baking and sweet treats. "Sorry, I'm realizing how forward that—"

"I appreciate it."

Tom relaxed and picked up a half loaf of bread Maria hadn't even realized was a thing.

As he paid for it, she tried to lighten the mood. "Everyone seems strangely nice here. This isn't a cult, is it?"

He laughed. "No, we understand what it's like to be alone in a new place."

"I'll believe you, for now. You wouldn't know where to find Red Bar? Shawn mentioned it, and it's supposed to have—"

"A red awning, yeah, it's not far. We can go together."

"You don't mind?"

Tom grinned boyishly, making his cheek dimples and freckles stand out. "Not at all."

After exiting the store, a motorbike taxi on the sidewalk rumbled toward them, nearly mowing them down. Her heart raced. She would not adapt to that soon. They passed restaurants whose open fronts displayed cheap tables topped with plastic carousels of spices, jewellery stores with glass storefronts and well-dressed female employees, and eyeglass shops so similar to their Canadian counterparts Maria did a double-take. As she and Tom turned down an alley with more food vendors, he recommended different dishes from each one and taught her Thai vocabulary.

"Khao," she repeated the word for rice a few times.

"Khao pad moo," Tom said.

She practised the phrase and with a grin added, "Beef fried rice!"

"Moo is pork, confusing, but you're close. Careful!" A loud engine roared. As he pulled her to the side by the shoulder, three motorbikes rushed by them.

She muttered a shaky "thanks".

Around another corner, past a small, open-air store with glass counters and boxes and bottles of pills, the restaurant with the red awning drew business from elderly Thai men, locals their age, and the odd foreigner. Most patrons sat on red plastic stools at tables of four. As they joined the people in front of a rectangular board of Thai script, Tom looked at his phone and muttered to himself.

"I'm sorry, I have to run. My sister has some emergency and she's not patient. It was very nice meeting you, and I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Before she could say more than "thanks", he left. She studied the menu board's black curved symbols, trying to remember what Tom had taught her. The queue shortening, and she wasn't sure if she wanted fried rice, but what other choice did she have? Perhaps if she pointed at the bowls of delicious and savoury smelling soup other people had, she'd succeed. The one she was eyeing up was red-hued with shrimp bobbing among the veggies.

"Look who made it to Red Bar after all," a deep voice said.

Behind her, Shawn stood beside a blond man with his hands in his jean pockets, amplifying his almost bronze arms. He met her gaze with a casual smile that brightened his already attractive features. Shawn had invited her to eat with him and one of their coworkers earlier. This must be the coworker.

"I cheated a little, I ran into Tom who showed me the way."

Shawn raised an eyebrow, and the blond laughed. "And he gives me grief for hitting on stunning women." The blond extended his hand to Maria. "I'm Mitch, and if I had run into you, I would have ensured you had delicious food and better company."

She shook his hand, and he held onto a few seconds longer than necessary. Maria withdrew her hand and looked away.

Shawn nudged the blond in the shoulder. "Mitch teaches grade five, so you'll see a lot of us and Emma in November."

As the line shuffled forward, Maria eyed the menu board again, then her eyes darted back to the guys. "What delicious food would you recommend?"

Mitch's eye lingered on her face. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Maybe soup?"

"Are you looking for spicy, seafood, coconut milk?" Mitch asked in a gravelly voice.

Her lips twitched as she imagined a creamy soup. "The last one."

"Try tom kha gai." He leaned so close his cinnamon and pine aroma surrounded her. "It's my favourite."

Hot, bold, and he knew food. She fought her urge to shudder. After recalling Emma's mention of Mitch and flings, Maria distanced herself.

When Shawn chuckled, Maria figured this wasn't the blond's first recommendation to strangers. As they advanced to the front of the line, she parroted Mitch's order twice to the middle-aged woman.

The woman replied, "Ha sip baht."

As she dug through her wallet, Maria tried to remember if ha sip was the blue fifty or the red hundred. She bargained on the blue one. Accepting it with a grin, the woman motioned for her to sit. After Maria sat at an empty table, the two guys pulled up stools beside her.

A few minutes later, a woman approached with a steamy bowl of white soup. Leaves, peppers, veggies and chicken bobbed in the broth as she set it on the table. When Maria glanced up, both guys looked at her with smiles.

"Did I order something weird? I thought I pronounced it right," she said.

Mitch brushed long bangs out of his eyes. "No, just waiting to see your reaction."

"I can wait—"

"Don't." Shawn pushed the carousel of chilli pepper flakes and other dark sauces to her. "Thai restaurants serve the food as it's cooked. If we waited for everyone's dish, half of them would be cold. We get used to eating that way."

Her first step of what Sunshine called the selfish life. After a spoonful, Maria detected lemongrass, ginger, and a kick from the chilli peppers. She wouldn't go through coconut milk withdrawal out here.

Mitch leaned closer. "Verdict?"

"It's fantastic."

"I know how to please a woman."

When Mitch winked, Maria couldn't help herself and laughed, spitting soup back into her bowl. "Sunshine mentioned someone needed an ego check, and I think figured out who."

As Mitch frowned, Shawn howled with laughter before saying, "I had a good feeling about you, Maria, and you're not disappointing."

After his chicken meal arrived, Shawn poured a fish-scented sauce with red and green chilli peppers on his rice. The guys shared they were best friends from Nebraska who both loved teaching here. By the end of the meal, she was more settled as long as she didn't think about her classes tomorrow. Learning money and numbers would be a cakewalk compared to managing all those children.