Today I went to the market for the first time. Two other missionaries (Maya and Beth) were taking me so that I could get some of my groceries. As we walked up to the maze of tents and people I thought back to the other markets I'd been to in Guatemala and Swaziland. This market, like those ones was full of vendors selling everything from toothpaste to fish to sandals.
Sheets draped over pieces of wood created a droopy ceiling much like the market place in Disney's Aladin. And men and women sat Indian style on tarps beside their fruit, or they sat on chairs behind their fruit.
As our small group walked through people seemed to lean forward and call to us from every direciton. I could only guess at what they were saying. At one point Maya turned to a group of young people and said in Creole "We speak Creole too." (This much I understood.)
She later explained that she heard the people making fun of us so she wanted to let them know she understood. I watched in awe of her confidence. In the mean time, Beth led us through the tents and explained what could be found in each section. She greeted several of her friends along the way and occassionally asked in Creole "Cambien goude pou sa?" (how much is this.)
And for the first time all week, I really started to freak out inside. What am I doing here? This is what I have to do every time I want an onion?
I wasn't just freaking out b/c I had no clue what was happening, though that was a part of it. I was freaking out b/c I knew I was starting to let go of everything that's been normal and starting to create a new normal.
Someday, I like Beth and Maya will go to the market by myself to pick up a pepper or an onion and to chat with the women working there, and I won't think anything of it.
(Afterward: As soon as I got back from the market, I had to put on some music, fold laundry, and sweep my house. It was very therapeutic for me to realize there are some small things that are still familiar.)
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