Market Day

I would say close your eyes and imagine with me... But if you did that then you couldn't read the post and wouldn't know what to picture. So, keep reading but see if you can begin to smell as we approach the soko (market.) It is a swarm of people like bees on a hive. Personal Space is irrelevant here so hold tight to your things and dive into the hive to find the honey spots is the goal! Tami introduced me to the "Kaka" (brother) who she trusts. Stall number 23 is where we found him with a trof full of fresh vegetables to pick from. It can be slightly intimidating as I work on my vocab to answer quickly or loudly enough. Every once in awhile there is a cultural push on the back as the narrow isle fills with people passing through. As incentive as the gestures may seem to an outsider the fact of the matter that building relationships is actually quite easy. I now live in a very social and communicative place. Ok, back to the smell of the veggies! I do enjoy the fresh fruits and vegetables found here. However, hold your nose cause as we passed the fish and meat area I thought I was going to gag! I am all about engaging in culture but if I don't have my Masai friends I am not preparing meat that still has its eyeballs! Going to the butcher here is already an adjustment. The spices are a welcoming whiff of pleasantry as we walk in the direction of fruits and grains. We gradually filled our baskets and soon we had boys trying to make a few shillings carrying things. There was one boy in the group that both Tami and I wanted to take home. He was very serious about his job carrying our bags and later we found getting them out of the car at the Center that they were quite heavy! He carried them through the market after us keeping up every step of the way. He was very aware of how to pack and diligently followed us to the car. I prayed for this boy as we headed back to the car. Our paths could cross again and believe me there are thousands of boys like this trying to survive. But, every once in awhile there is one that pulls your heart strings even more than the rest. Why, I don't know but part of the reason I endure the sokoku instead of Wal-mart is that I have a great hope for the growing generation of Africa.

Tami showed me a few shops tucked in around the market. Shops filled with kangas, sukas, and random whatever things that make you laugh when you see them. Mass stuff everywhere but if you are willing to dig a little you can find some neat little treasures. I felt like a kid in a candy store for the first time trying to look around and take it all in. So much so Tami grabbed my arm so that I didn't become African Road Kill. In the midst of this mess are people who do not know how to drive and they don't really care who is in their way.

The last stop was the bakery and as I thought about the day. It takes forever to venture to all these crazy places to find what you need. But, as I thought about what I saw, the people I talked to, and the things I found the experience is so much more relational than swiping your colored plastic in the machine at the end of the line at Target. Don't get me wrong I would click my heals and be in a Target isle in a second! But, there is something said for the social experience of the soko that we Westerner's could remember.