Market Day...

To adequately describe the market here in Rwanda is an impossible task.  It is an experience unlike any other I have had full of new things, people, sounds, and smells.  The first time I went to the market was just days after arriving in Nyanza, I was completely overwhelmed and wanted to leave immediately.  I did not think I would ever actually be able to buy things there and now it's what I look forward to all week long. 

The market is where you buy everything, food, dishes, clothes, tools, purses, etc, you name it, it's got it (that is if they even have it in Africa). There are some small shops in towns where you can purchase food but mostly just packaged items, all the fresh foods you get at the market.  In Kigali there are a couple places that are similar to Target or Walmart but they are outragously expensive and really only the foreigners shop there.  So everyone goes to the market.  Every city/village has one, in Rwamagana (the biggest city nearest to me) there is one everyday but Wednesdays and Saturdays are the good days when more vendors come in especially with more clothes. 

The market in my village is a particularly unique experience though.  It's only once a week, it opens at around 4pm and everyone in about a 2 mile radius comes. Like I said in my previous post , everyone that is out on Friday evening is going to the market and as moved with the crowd I could hear the hum of voices before I could even see anyone.  The market is packed with vendors selling their items on makeshift tables made of cut branches and covered with straw mats.  The is row after row of people fruits and vegetables, they are selling tomatoes stacked in prefect little pyramids ready to be sold along with onions, peppers and garlic.  Then you move to the tables full of fruit; bananas, bunches with 12 little half sized bananas, lots of mangoes because they are in season now, huge ripe pineapples, passion fruit and limes.  There are other tables where they sell salt, several types of flour and oil.  Then there are the tables with small dried fish which I assume to be sardines, you know from the smell you are getting close to theses tables far before you approach them.  They look like they were pulled out of the water, left to dry in the sun for a few hours and then brought to the market.  I honestly don't know how they are cooked as I haven't had the misfortune of being served them yet.  Along the periphery there are dozens of potato sacks filled with potatoes, rice, dried beans, and sweet potatoes. 

Then there is my favorite part of the entire market, the clothes piles.  There are huge rice sacks of used clothes that are thrown on to piles to be rummaged through.  This can provide hours of entertainment looking both for things you would actually wear and the most ridiculous clothes you can possible imagine.  Sometimes some of the clothes are hung up but the price goes up significantly and by that I mean a shirt goes from $0.15 to $1.50. 

Today was my second time at the market in my village and both times I went with my neighbor.  She and her husband own the shop next to my house and she has taken me under her wing.  She is probably in her mid 30's and quite beautiful.  She has 3 kids, the oldest being 10 and youngest about 3.  She has been very kind and generous and I'm so grateful to have her looking out for me.  She doesn't speak much English so we have to rely mostly on my Kinyarwanda to communicate which is definitely lacking.  It's good though because she is my motivation to improve my language skills. 

So while I don't mind shopping in the market by myself it's nice to have her take me.  In the larger cities it's not that unusual to see a muzungu in the market but in my village it's likely never happened before so I an even bigger spectacle than usually.  So we get to the market, I pull out my list and she literally holds my hand and leads me to each vendor to purchase all of the items.  Then there is the whole bargaining process.  When we arrive at a table with pineapple for example, each and every one is examined to find the best one then a price is negotiated.  This is expected you can pretty much always talk them down.  They give you a price that's way too high, you follow with one that's way too low and then you meet somewhere in the middle.  If they won't go down and it's too high you simply walk away and sometimes they will come running after you to accept your price which feels like a small victory. 

The market is jam packed full of people, men and women, old and young.  There are young boys everywhere with their bikes ready to transport big loads for people.  There are women with their babies tied to their backs and 20lb misshapen bag of potatoes on their head (how they manage either of those tasks is beyond me).  And there are people just socializing, talking about their families, who has the best tomatoes and where they can get the best price on beans.  It's all real and genuine and I love it!