Market Moments

I will be honest. I don’t like markets. I never have, I don’t think I ever will. I’ve never been to St. Lawrence Market, rarely to Kensington Market, and I avoid Chinatown at all costs. When travelling I’m not tempted by bazaars and kiosks. I even have a hard time handling department stores. I am looking forward to the anonymity and simplicity of shopping at Sobey’s once again. 

That said, I have had a few good “market moments” in Ghana, some leaving me laughing, some leaving me mad, and some, well, just good lessons learned.

Market Moment #1

While Sam was still in Lawra we would go to market together each week. One week we were sitting small and taking some bean cakes (as I lapse into Ghanaian English …), he asked me if there was anything else I wanted to buy. Wanting to get some clothes made, I said, yes, fabric. And then, thinking nothing of it, I resumed eating. I vaguely took note of a lively conversation Sam has was having with women sitting nearby.

When we finished eating, Sam led me to an area of the market, pointed to a table which had a giant pile of socks and men’s underwear on it, and instructed me to look there. Confused, but not really getting what was going on, I said, no, I need fabric and then led him to where the cloth sellers were.

A few days later we were eating dinner and Sam started to randomly laugh. He asked me if I saw a lady hit him at the market while we were eating bean cakes. I said, no, but it looked like you were having a strange conversation. He responded, “Oh, ok, never mind then.” To which I chided him that he can’t start a story and not finish it. After several minutes of begging, he finally told me the story.

So, instead of hearing that I wanted to buy fabric, he somehow got that I wanted to buy a bra. But, in Ghanaian modesty, a – had no clue where in the market to do so, and b – was too embarrassed to ask. He was trying to ask the ladies where he could find one without using any words to directly describe what the product was, or where it was used, in either English or Dagaare. By indirectly describing the product, accompanied with a few gestures, I guess he got a couple of ladies laughing at him and hitting him.

Market Moment #2

When I go to market I take a reusable shopping back, to consolidate all my purchases into one, easier to manage parcel for my often precarious bike trip home. Despite attempting to shop from heaviest to lightest, I usually end up having to stop and take things out and reload with each purchase so as to not squish my tomatoes or burst a bag of groundnut paste. One day I was buying rice, and so squatted down to sort and rearrange my bag. Two ladies quickly rushed up to me, pulled me up and pulled down my shirt.

When I squatted down, my jeans were a little too low, my shirt a little too high. I was “showing off everything that was important”.

Market Moment #3

Because of my dislike of the market atmosphere, I have gotten it down to a system. I can be in and out with a bundle of food I can barely carry home in 10 minutes. Unfortunately, this is not how the Ghanaians do it. Market is a central piece of their culture, especially for the women. After several weeks in a row of my mad market dash, I ran into a few ladies on the street, and proceeded to get into a lot of trouble from them for failing to visit them at market. Alas, my market approach has been slightly modified now. I do a quick “visit circuit”, then an even quicker “shop” circuit …

Market Moment #4

In Canada I would often buy apples, to only have them sit in my fridge for far too long. Here, I can’t seem to get enough of them. Buying apples involves me going to Wa, and so when I go, I buy more than one. I know apples are 50 pesewa each, but I always ask the seller, just to make sure we are on the same ground. (There is the odd person who will try to sell them to you for 70psw). I ask for somewhere in the neighborhood of 40,000 (GHC4). Really, buying 8 apples shouldn’t be a big deal, but they never seem to understand that I actually want that many apples. If I ask for 40,000, they’ll usually put 4 in the bag, thinking the white lady doesn’t know what she’s asking. I encourage them to keep adding, more, and eventually, they realize that I was serious about buying 8 apples, and are happy with the sale.

I guess one positive thing about buying apples (or any produce) is that it is a price per unit, rather than pound. I’m sure we’ve all been surprised to get to the checkout and realize we mistakenly read the sign and the apples we selected were $1.99/lb, rather than $1.29!