Day 21: La Marche (The Market)

A couple of days ago, I mentioned the supermarche (For those of you who are fluent in French, please forgive the absence of accents.) that reminded me of home with its big wide, sparkling clean aisles and tidy shelves of branded goods from Unilever, Procter and Gamble, Kraft, Nestle, General Foods. You know the names.

Yesterday, we went to the OTHER market, the street market where Senegalese locals shop. It’s a sensory experience: sight, smell, sound overload! Staying alert is critical, and not just for pickpockets, which are fairly common. Keeping one's eyes open is the only way to void stepping into “it,” whatever “it” might be.

I love the market! It’s a visual feast: red, yellow, white, green, purple, orange. Carefully stacked vegetables and fruits, intended to invite the eye and a purchase. My favorite is the lettuce, fanned into a lush, circular arrangement.

The sounds are commercial as well as community…lots of banter between neighboring vendors, between customers, between moms and kids (Moms do yell in all cultures!), as well as between customers and merchants. The slightest interest—a second glance in the direction of a display, for example—results in inquiries and vociferous encouragement to purchase. Two or three sellers will converge simultaneously, each with a special offer.

By necessity, merchants are hyper-vigilant about opportunities to sell. In an economy where the average income is slightly more than $100 per month, the difference between a good day and a bad day is marginal and may be a single transaction.

The smells are robust. I think that’s an apt, if modest, description. In the late afternoon, when the air is still, the odors are strongest and float above their source. Some are pleasant, like the sweet fragrance that lingers above a massive pile of hibiscus or the mélange that emanates from a display of spices. Others are frankly overpowering, like the strange fishy smell of dried calamari or the rot that floats above the burst bag of chicken innards lying in the street.

What I am most aware of while following Paul through this commercial maze is that the human constitution can tolerate much more of the un-sanitized, un-hygienic than we might want to believe. It’s not that flies, mosquitoes, open-air markets, dust, mangy dogs and open sewerage should necessarily be a part of anybody’s life. Obviously, health improves when risks are managed, when there are vaccinations and means for simple hand washing.

The point is that the human system has an amazing capacity for tolerance. Sanitary is nice--and it’s an artificial standard created by the manufacturers of products that sanitize. But necessary? I don’t think so.