More Market Mayhem

First published February 18, 2010

My friend, Natalie, gave me a call and asked if I would be interested in going to the fruit and vegetable market. She said that some of the items were in peak season which mean good-looking produce at rock-bottom prices. I was definitely interested.

She picked me up around 10 and we headed toward this open-air extravaganza. Immediately, as we exited the vehicle we were approached by several men pushing wheelbarrows and holding a variety of produce. Natalie totally kept her cool and told one young man that he would be our "official" wheelbarrow guy. She told me that it's easier to just go ahead and hire one so that you won't have to be fending off all the other wheelbarrow pushers (as it were) for the rest of the time.

Her mom was visiting from the States and her two adorable children were with us as well. We made quite a sight entering the market. Four out of the five of us were blonde-headed and blue-eyed. Not that that mattered. I'm thinking they would probably be able to tell that we weren't Sudanese in a several different ways, but I digress.

I told Natalie that I would follow her lead. If she negotiated a price for an amount, I would buy the same amount. I am her "grasshopper." I would learn from the "Sinsay" (I have NO idea how to spell that.) She confidently walked through the market and we went over our list of items that we wanted to purchase. We were looking for strawberries, tomatoes and green beans.

A man approached us carrying a flat of strawberries and the haggling began. Soon another man appeared and we were in a price war. We explained that we wanted MANY strawberries and asked if we would be getting a quantity discount. Of course, this is in Arabic, English and charades. We finally settled on a price and were escorted to the strawberry supplier who just happened to be located on the other side of the market.

Everyone trooped along not mentioning the squishy produce that littered the ground and some aromas which can only be left to the imagination. The strawberries arrived en masse and were promptly deposited into our wheelbarrow. It was beyond full which meant we had to take these back to the van before we could continue anymore shopping. We turned away 2 more wheelbarrow guys who just knew we were going to need backup.

The strawberries were safely tucked away and we were ready for Round 2. Everyone's spirits were still high so we ventured in looking next for green beans. We were told that we could purchase a gigantic bag of them so we kept our eyes peeled. Sure enough we came upon a man who had a sugar bag full of green beans. Natalie haggled and he gave us our price. We were chagrined because we realized he agreed too quickly. Rats. Bet we could have gotten a better price.

Tomatoes were next and I purchased 40 lbs. of them. I see a LOT of spaghetti sauce in my future. The wheelbarrow was once again filling up but not before we added some bananas as well. The children had been doing great and asked for a juicebox. I thought they deserved a medal. I was definitely beginning to feel myself losing my enthusiasm after an hour and a half.

Natalie went to get them something to drink and her mom and I headed down "Egg Row." I tried my best bartering power, but none of them would come down on their prices. "But this is the same price I pay at the supermarket," I said convincingly. One man just shrugged. Another walked away. I wanted to tell them (but didn't have the Arabic vocabulary), "Don't you understand? I can go to a grocery store with a little metal cart and air conditioning on neat little shelves and not step in stuff and PAY THE SAME PRICE?!" However, they were unmoved by it all. I left the eggs with them.

We all met up again and made our way back to the van. One man had been wiping down Natalie's windows and was waiting for his payment. Of course, we didn't ask for this service and the ironic thing is that the cloth he used was completely dry. So she navigated expertly through the last-minute hawkers and ushered us into the vehicle.

As we got in we were surrounded by a bounty of produce. No, I didn't do all the work to get them to harvest, but I sure put in some effort to get them to my house. Natalie took me home and began unloading my share of the purchases. Reality hit. "What was I thinking? Who am I Laura Ingalls? What am I a prairie woman? What am I supposed to do with all of this?"

The strawberries began wilting before my eyes. Good grief. I have a 24 hour window to bleach, rinse, blanch, snap, slice, dice and bag all of this. I immediately grabbed a Diet Coke and began to formulate a plan.

"John, you're on strawberries."
"Emileigh, start snapping."
"Aria, get the Ziplocs."

Operation: Produce Production Line was in action. My goal is to get all these beauties in bags and into the freezer right away. John's goal is to find the most efficient way to cut and measure the strawberries so that they are all consistently bagged for future usage. He was aghast I didn't take on the same enthusiasm for processing. Over the next day and a half we worked until every piece had found a home in our tropicalized freezer. (Fancy name for a freezer that will stay cold for 3 days after the electricity goes out. After 3 days you get to eat a LOT.)

So now we are set for the winter which ironically never truly arrives. It's actually the opposite here. Things become scarce during summer since temperatures can soar to 130 degrees. (No that is a not a type-o.) I'm grateful to be learning this new way of living. For friends who include you in their lives. For simple things like a freezer and electricity.

Now I'm wondering if I'm brave enough to head back for "Lettuce Season." I'll keep you posted.