So it takes a lot of raw produce to feed a family of five (and random guests) for a week. As much as I would like to get out every day to buy only the things I need for that particular day, it just isn't practical! So here is a glimpse of what shopping is like for me.
Matt is home 2 mornings per week. One of those mornings I have tutoring. So that leaves one morning during which I can get to the market. This usually involves much scrambling to get the girls off to school, get Chloe organized with her studies, devise a plan for lunch, deal with the crazy issue of the day (like the light falling out of the bathroom ceiling, the toilet overflowing, etc...) So I grab my market basket, my phone, my list, my toilet paper... (You get the idea. You don't just grab your keys and wallet and go here!) and step outside and take a deep breath. The walk to the market is usually pleasant, and I stop to chat with friends along the way. (In this case, "friends" means "The Lady at the Alleyway Restaurant," "The Xioxi Man," "The Stationary Boss," "The 2 Kuai Lady and Her Son." People I see often, am friendly with, and chat with briefly when I see them.) There is usually at least one individual/ group of students or tourists excited to see and meet me. We discuss where we live, where we're from, how many children we have,etc, in some combination of broken English and/ or the native tongue. I enjoy this part. My market basket is light and I enjoy meeting and sharing with the people. But it can be a bit of a drag on those days when you just want to get it done and get back to all of the other things that need done!
I might stop to shop at the 2 Kuai to replace the latest broken dish or utensil, or to stock up on pencils, erasers, and notepads that say things like "love and romance never did meet under a nicer hare" or, in the case of Emma's Hello Kitty Notebook, have a huge word like "ERECTION" emblazened across them. Now, you might say, "Are you kidding? You BOUGHT that??" But it is one of only three normal sized, spiral notebooks I have found in the whole time we've been here. And when there is no loose leaf available and you're trying to teach your kid to write, as in so many similar cases, you will take what you can get.
I meander past the men welding on the street, the children squatting in their split plants, the huge crowd at the lottery ticket office, the plant vendors, the Monkey Head Man (yup. Hasn't sold yet.) and the groups of men hovered around their gambling games. There is music and shouting blaring from huge speakers outside the clothing shops, and I bid hello to all the people who stare at me as I pass. Sometimes they are friendly in return. Sometimes they just continue to stare. Or laugh.
Outside the entrance to the market is a massive crowd of unlicensed vendors, animals, and customers. It seems no matter how "familiar" I become, they all want to vie for my attention. (Well, the chickens and ducks and some of the sicker dogs and resting people just want to be left alone. But there is an overall meile as dogs bark, vendors jab me and thrust their fruits in my face, and other customers stop what they are doing to inquire, laugh at, or remark about me.) As you can imagine, there are times when this gets very old. I take stock of the new offerings (maybe strawberries are in season or there is something new I've not yet seen) and hurry inside to the relative calm. Inside are row after row of junkets, idols, hardware, clothes, tea, produce, meat, and live animals. I hurry down fruit alley, checking for the vendors who give me a remotely fair price for apples, banannas, oranges, mangoes... sometimes NONE of the fruit looks good. Sometimes it all looks good, and sometimes there are fair prices! You just never know what to expect. I try to give repeat business to those who are fair, but few vendors stay in the same place.
My basket is heavy as people push past me from all directions and I make my way toward the veggie stalls. Here is a massive complex of boards laid out with a myriad of vegetables - raw, pickled, spiced, cooked... I wander from vendor to vendor trying to find basics, and I dodge the tricycle vendors as they speed through toward a more promising area or to replenish their supplies. Sometimes I hail them because I see cilantro or lettuce or some other thing I want, and we conduct business in the middle of the thoroughfare. I used to feel bad about being in the way, until I realized it is simply expected. I just try to hold my own while people knock into me and, when necessary, resist the urge to elbow back.
Unfortunately, the potatoes are in a corner right in the middle of the maze of stalls. Believe me, I have tried, but there is just no easy way to get "the heavy stuff" last. And you don't exactly want to throw them in on top of your eggs, either. So a few pounds of banannas, some apples, some oranges... all have added up, and the potatoes and rice top it off to somewhere between 60-100 pounds. This wouldn't be so bad, except that 1) I usually have at least one kid straggling behind me (or being picked up and carried off) 2) I still have to get the eggs, meat and whatever vegetable I'm still trying to track down and 3) EVERYONE wants to stop me to see why I have a market basket, why it's so full, and what I have in it. Oh, and how much I paid for everything. So sometimes I decide we don't need meat (or carrots, or fill-in-the-blank) that badly. Other times, when I have the energy and still have circulation in my arms, I wander back through the hardware area to say hello to my little friends in the hardware area, or to stop at the chestnut stand or take whatever girl is with me to see the turtles/bunnies/frogs in the meat market or the livestock in back. Once I stopped to help a man whose bag of tea (we're talking a 50lb sack. That's a lot of leaves!) was knocked over by an errant bicyclist. He swept up the leaves into the bag as people trampled through, their shoes filthy from the discarded waste and entrails throughout the market, hawking on the ground. He finished scraping up what wasn't completely stuck in the gunk on the ground, then promptly thanked me and put the bag upright, tidying the price above it, and that was that. Gosh, I though, at least tea is boiled!
So this whole fiasco generaly takes, en totale, somewhere between 2 and 4 hours. People claw through my things as I make my way home, exhausted and wishing I hadn't missed lunch.
And then I start the big endeavor of washing, bleaching, peeling, chopping and making it into meals and snacks! So you can see why sometimes I just long for a jar of peaches, a bag of salad, or a can of soup!
I always wondered why, when they kill the animals, they save the lower legs and heads. Well, I guess I'm still wondering. But they sell them for some reason.
This beautiful lady was really pedalling the mangoes. Which, by the way, we're super excited about. Until now, the only ones we could find were hard and green. Now Matt and the girls eat about 10 a day. Not kidding.
This isn't that out of the ordinary. I actually see men without children in hats like this quite frequently. (I guess they go with the pick bunny slippers.) I did think it was cute (and a little out of the ordinary) to see the Mama and baby stopping to visit Daddy while he was at work. 
This little guy is all dudded out in his ethnic clothes and cartoon tennies :) He was playing "farmer."
I always wondered why, when they kill the animals, they save the lower legs and heads. Well, I guess I'm still wondering. But they sell them for some reason.
This beautiful lady was really pedalling the mangoes. Which, by the way, we're super excited about. Until now, the only ones we could find were hard and green. Now Matt and the girls eat about 10 a day. Not kidding.
This isn't that out of the ordinary. I actually see men without children in hats like this quite frequently. (I guess they go with the pick bunny slippers.) I did think it was cute (and a little out of the ordinary) to see the Mama and baby stopping to visit Daddy while he was at work. 
This little guy is all dudded out in his ethnic clothes and cartoon tennies :) He was playing "farmer."
