Ode to Market

The market of Kabala is no ordinary place. The hustle and bustle and sights and smells makes for a sensory experience every time. So here are a few things you will likely encounter at one point or another at the Kabala market. Upon entry, the potent smell of fish rushes through the nostrils and tickles the senses in a way which I simply cannot describe. But for those of you who have heard Austin Powers describe Fat Bastards flatulence, you may have an idea as to what I’m referring to. And it’s for this reasonthatI usually use the alternative entry point. As you make your way past this, you begin to climb Thunder Hill and sometimes find yourself - depending on rain - reaching out to grab the nearest stall for stability but instead,you end up transforming a woman’s tomatoes into tomato paste.And, for tall people like myself,you must be weary of the ubiquitous, low-hanging razor sharp tin-sheet roofs. I think what takes it for me, though, was how a young lad decided, smack dab in the middle of the market,to have a bowel movement. Here I am shopping for cucumbers, onions and avocadoes, and there’s a 5 year old pooping right next to me… Classic!

Fish smell aside, the market is always an interesting and fun experience. For starters, you never know what produce you’ll find, so shopping for your next meal is somewhat like opening a kinder surprise. Second, the liveliness of the market is simply priceless: people coming and going, lively chatter among women, andchildren weaving in and out of foot traffic. And then thereis the backbone of the market - the women. When you stop and think about it for a second, you can’t help but admire what these women undertake. They spend their entire days cramped up in tiny stalls enduring flies, heavy downpours of rain and mud while looking over their children. But this is just the tip of the iceberg. After approximately ten hours in their stalls they travel home on an okada (motorbike taxi) with their outstanding produce, cook food for the entire family, wash clothes (although this seems to happen in the a.m.), clean the homestead and, if they have a garden, tend to it as time permits. Indeed, these are SUPER WOMEN,and Loblaw’s is so incredibly bland compared to the local Kabala market.