I love the market. It's such an interesting place. And it's made all the more interesting by my fascination with the place, and everyone's fascination with me. Everyone stares at me as I navigate the puddles, piles of discarded greens, and fish flopping around on the ground (just the escapees). Men on motorbikes ride through, delivering various boxes, and heaving blocks of ice on baskets of fish. With all of the raw meat and spices, the intensity of garlic is surprising and overwhelming. It hits me like a wave every time, and i can see eyes flicking up to watch me.
There is a woman all the way in the back from whom I buy my fish. There are about 10 ladies in that corner, all sitting on the ground, rinsing fish, scaling and gutting them with scissors. They love to ask me questions. And even though I've told them all already, every time I come someone asks my age. Echoes of "hai mười bốn tuổi (age 24)," follow me even as I walk away.
I've never bought groceries before that were still kicking. It's kind of exciting. I still don't know what I'm doing. I still go to market at the wrong time and say the wrong words. And I'm still skeptical about high prices. I always pick out my own fruit because one woman picked out overripe fruit for me one time.
Here is my first salmon soup. The salmon was so fatty that it made great broth. I'm so glad to finally be cooking more.
I feel so successful carrying bags home. Everyone goes to the market. Every day. It makes sense because the power sometimes goes out, so nothing is in the fridge to do bad. And no one has a microwave. But darn if it's not a lot of work!
2 comments:
Why did you leave the eyeballs on?
hmmm... Deanna, this is a good question. I didn't eat it, but the fish is such a pain to fillet, that I cook it completely, then I take it out and take out the bones.
And also, of course, I thought it was a cool picture
Post a Comment