In Thantip Village, eastern Bangkok, a majestic Boeing 747 and several MD-82s found a resting place on an empty piece of land next to the road. A few European children and their parents are climbing around the enourmous hulls, taking pictures. It is the first and probably the only time I explore the upper deck and cockpit of a Jumbo Jet. Alledgedly, the defunct aircraft were purchased to be dismantled and sold as scrap metal. Now, the family living on the premises has turned the picturesque graveyard of airplanes into a tourist attraction, charging substantial entry fees.

The bigger business, however, may lay in yet a different kind of cockpit: a part of the 747's hull, cut in half to form two hangar-like structures, serves as barn to breed gamecocks – the kind pitted against each other in cockfights. Cockfighting is both old tradition and big business in Thailand, despite efforts to outlaw it. I try to take portraits of the proud roosters but I am not sure how much my interest for the cocks is appreciated. Could I be a spy with a hidden agenda?

A thunderstorm is brewing. The sky behind the yard of pits and cocks turns dark, wrapping the hulls into dramatic light. An unexpected afterword to Clifford Geertz? Or, rather, have we just walked into an untold episode of Lost? The first heavy rain drops fall. The young woman who sold us tickets waives us off. A picture? – Yes. Smile. Goodbye. We seek shelter in a nearby 7-Eleven. The sound of the convenience store's distinct bell, rining each and every time the sliding doors open, wakes me out of this dream.