Just about any public place in Ecuador is a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, smells and experiences. Loja’s central market, where we buy most of our fruits, vegetables and coffee, is one public place with it’s share of activity. There is so much happening that it is too much to take in all at once, but here are a few things I noticed during a recent shopping trip:
Women huddled together on the sidewalk outside of the market selling socks from baskets, their children playing nearby.
An old, skinny man standing at the entrance to the market holding up a large, bright red towel, and yelling, "Towels for sale, get your towel here!"
An even older, skinnier man selling little foam alphabet puzzles. His cry was, "Puzzles, puzzles, buy yourself a puzzle today!"
A seemingly endless number of stalls within the market, all of them overflowing with a colorful jumble of goods. The market has two floors. Downstairs are the produce, meat, cheese, flowers and household goods sections. Upstairs you’ll find coffee, dried goods, sweets, clothes, barber shops, fresh juice bars, and a few restaurants.
A young guy selling little frog toys that paddle their legs when you wind them up. He has a small tub of water next to him which he uses to demonstrate how the frogs work.
A huge poster on the wall showing Petri dishes filled with worms and other creepy-crawly things. The poster is entitled "Anti-Parasite Campaign." In front of the poster is a table staffed by a man and a woman in white lab coats.
People in wheelchairs or on crutches, selling things or just asking for money.
A young boy crying while his father (or grandfather?) yells at him. Both of them holding trays of some food item they are trying to sell to the people at the market.
The women in the produce stands yelling out to me, “What would you like today? Some bananas? How about some oranges? Or some grapes? Take them home!”
The guy I buy coffee from; I always find him sitting patiently in his stall, watching an old black and white TV. When I ask him for a pound he fills up a plastic bag with freshly ground coffee, weighs it, ties the plastic bag, puts it into a paper bag with his logo on it, staples the paper bag and puts the whole thing it into another plastic bag before handing it to me. His movements are practiced and deliberate, not without a sense of pride (and for good reason - it is the best coffee we've found in Loja).
And everywhere I go – groups and gaggles of people to navigate around, squeeze past, bump in to, or say “hi” to as I attempt to get to my destination.
