Market Madness

Sundays in Sumpango are like a whole new thrilling adventure. The town comes alive with street vendors that cover every inch of the square. People come from all over to sell their goods and attempt to make a living. When I walk out of my front door, I can hear the excitement and can't wait to get right in the middle of it. I can buy anything from earrings to a live chicken to a fruit salad to a bootleg dvd. It is a scene that many people have yet to experience.

Walking down the cobblestone street becomes a different experience on Sundays. There are no cars passing by because the road is closed off for the tents and the assorted merchandise. Walking past one stand, I examine every fresh fruit you can imagine. There are watermelons, cantalopes, pineapples, guavas, grapes and the list goes on. They create a medley of color and I crave my camera for just one shot. My host mom stops to buy oranges and a few slices of watermelon. The fruit is so juicy that I can't help but smile at just the idea of having some with my lunch. The next stand is full of vibrant sweaters and traditional Mayan clothing. The women stop to admire the patterns and materials. There is an explosion of color everywhere you look.

A man passes me with a bucket on his shoulder. Inside the bucket is an entire body of a pig. The only thing missing is its head. Trying to get over that sight, I walk behind my host aunt to a stand that is selling socks. Apparently they are overpriced because she passes them by. Once we make our way through the crowd of shoppers and venders, we step into the four story market. The market is a world within itself. Standing tall in the center of Sumpango, it serves as a 7 day a week bodega for locals pushing their goods. We start on the floor that is set aside for the sale of meats. The smell of this part of the market is overwhelming. No words can describe the feeling you get in your stomach when you first smell and then see the stock being sold. Every part of the animal is used for something and the vendors are not afraid to display it. I walk past a stand full of cow legs and entrails. We head to the chicken booth. The meat is laid out on a counter for everyone to see. I question the sanitation but make no comment. My aunt purchases 12 pounds of chicken for lunch. She places the bag of meat into the purse I am holding and we head to the next floor.

One floor up is your choice of every herb or pasta you can think of. My aunt picks out long noodles, meat seasoning, flour and herbs for tea. We are going to have a good lunch. Finally we make our way down to the bottom floor. This is my favorite floor. There are fruits and vegetables covering every corner. Exotic and local. It seems as if anything is available. The ladies selling their products stare at the strange looking white girl hanging out with the locals. I ask my aunt the names of certain products. My mom and her laugh at my pronunciation in Spanish. My baby sister is holding the bag that contains the flour. She looks so adorable strapped to my host moms back. She giggles at me as we pass by a stand selling fish. Across the room I spot another "gringa". It is my friend Kim and her host mom. They are also fighting their way through the crowds to gather ingredients for lunch.

We walk up the walkway and back into the street. I squeeze past people bargaining for avocados. As we walk the one block back to our home, I wonder how many times I will buy my food from markets just like this one. When we get home, my mom and aunt begin cooking lunch over the wood burning stove while I study spanish. For lunch, We enjoy fried chicken, pasta and a cool glass of orange juice. A few hours later I head back to the street to meet Kim and browse the market one more time. It is around 2p.m. and the market is winding down. There are a few vendors closing up shop and packing away their things. All that is left of the Sunday market is trash and fruit peels. The street dogs search for leftovers and enjoy the scraps of what was left behind. The streets return to normal and the market that takes on a life of its own is gone. Next Sunday can't come soon enough for the people of Sumpango. The smells, the sights, the excitement is just around the corner and I can't wait.