The market

Fidelma and I went to the large wholesale market here in Mombasa this morning.  We both needed veg and fruit so we decided to go together. 
This is a huge indoor/outdoor market.  I don't know the exact size of the place but I'm guessing 3-5 acres.  Everyone who sells veg and fruit all over mombasa and surrounding areas comes to this market every morning to buy their produce.  It is then pulled in carts all over the city and country side.
The ground is layers of garbage and mud.  The place smells like a big mix of garbage, produce, animals and diesel.  I can still smell it when I think about it now.  People are pushing and yelling and sweating.  There are Mamas sitting on potato sacks with little piles of produce all around then.  "Karibu Mama" they say as we pass "Welcome Mama".  Young men come up to us and ask if they can carry our bags. "Its too heavy for you Mama!  Let me help you." (of course they want a little something) I say, "siku ingeni, asanta" "maybe tomorrow, thankyou"  We come to the cabbage section of the market.  Piles and piles of cabbage.  Big piles of cabbage.  The first mama says, "50 shilling".  Fidelma looks at me and says, "how do you see it Amie?"  Of course I have no idea what to pay for cabbage.  She say, "We'll keep looking."  We walk on then she leans over and starts hitting the cabbage.  They are big, hard, bright green cabbage.  Beautiful.  She looks at the young man and says, "how much?"  He says, "35 bob."  She smiles.  She takes two and I take one.  She had just told me they were selling them for 100 bob across the ferry where she lives. 
We keep moving, slowly weaving our way through the people sitting on the ground selling and the people hurrying around us.  We stop to buy some avocado.  Big beautiful avocado.  The mama and Fidelma start talking about the price and which are good for today and which for tomorrow.  Fidelma has to touch each one.  Some she holds twice until she is satisfied she has found the best ones for us.  All this bent over at the hips.  Bum up, head down, bag between the feet, hands searching for just the right fruit.  Its rude for a woman to squat.  Better to bend straight over. 
Moving again. Don't step in the mud.  Don't step on the oranges.  Step over the bolder sticking out of the ground.  We buy some garlic from a man standing with a box of garlic.  "10 bob each Mama. How many, mama?"  He has a beautiful smile. 
Then we head for one of the covered areas.  I need some shade and Fidelma wants to greet a friend who sells melon.  He's very happy to see us and meet Fidelma's mzungu (white person) friend.  We buy some melon and ask if we can leave our heavy bags with him while we go buy the rest of our things.  He's very happy to help. 
We find ginger, hot peppers, green peppers, carrots, peas, spinach, onions, potatoes, parsley, lemons and sakuma (a green leaf Kenyans love). 
The most interesting thing that happened though was at the tomatoes.  Turning a corner we were suddenly standing in front of crates and crates and crates of tomatoes.  I mean you have never seen so many tomatoes in one place.  All in wood crates with cardboard scrapes on top and tied with twine.  Tomatoes on the ground stepped on and covered in flies.  TOMATOES!  Fidelma got herself somehow in the middle of these crates where other woman and men where standing.  I looked like they where all talking about something.  I had no idea why we where just standing there.  Then a young man grabbed a crate and poured out the contents on the the mud, garbage ground.  Fidelma and five other people circled the pile on the ground and bent over at the hips.  So, I bent over too thinking I could help pick our tomatoes but Fidelma quickly stopped me and said "I am choosing." Each took a different number of tomatoes in their hand and showed the rest what they had taken.  They then put what was in their hand in their bag.  They choose again.  Fidelma took two.  Another took five, and other took four. And each time they paused to show everyone that they had taken the agreed amount.  I realized as I watched that they had all put in to buy the crate and then worked out among themselves how many they could each take from the crate.  Amazing!  What a great idea.  We got at least 3kg of tomatoes for 100 shillings ($1.20 CDN)
After retrieving our bags from the melon guy we went to the part of the market that is in an actual building.  There is a mama there who has a stall and sells spices.  She is a big beautiful mama, with a bright laso (piece of fabric) tied on her head and a warm smile that takes up her whole face.  I've bought from her many times before and the first time I sent Fidelma to the market alone I told her to go to Mama Hadija.  So when Fidelma and I walked up she was very happy to see us.  I asked her about the spices, rice and beans.  And got her to tell me some words in Swahilli.  Fidelma suggested that I go visit her in her home soon.  Mama Hadija loved the idea!  We then had to exchange phone numbers, a very common thing here.  She told Fidelma to bring me next Sunday.  She said she would phone me.  Very different from home, but very neat.  I'm excited to go visit her if I actually get to.
Then we were off heading toward to road.  It's a bit of a hike out of the market.  You have to navigate through matatus (14 passenger public service vehicles) and mud puddles and people.  As you walk in and out there is a large used clothing market.  But, we had done enough shopping for one day so we headed straight for the road. 
Back home now I'm exhausted!  Between the sun, and heat, the people, the heavy bags and the walking I'm pooped!  But it's those experiences that make me love living here. 

I have scrubbed, bleached and air dried all the produce and we are ready to eat!

Cabbage will never look the same again

Cost of living is something that affects everyone, whether you are in Canada or Kenya. I had a conversation a couple weeks back with our day guard about the cost of living in Kenya. Something I found interesting is that we usually determine in Canada that life is expensive when the cost of gasoline goes up. I am speaking generally here, but when gas hits 1.20 a litre we start thinking wow life is expensive I need to cut back.

In our conversation the guard explained to me how the cost of everything in the market has been going up. A cabbage is going for 80 shillings in some places, a tomato could be going for 10 shillings (when before you could maybe buy 3 for 15 or so), when you only make 200 or 300 shillings in a day this is very bad news. As the guard explained your whole paycheque for the day goes to just feeding the family one meal. So, what do you do when the kids are crying and hungry in the morning and at lunch? How do you find a way to pay rent? Let alone school fees for the kids? Kenyans eat simply but when the staples of their diet are too costly what are they to do? These are the challenges people are facing here. He explained to me that in some places duka owners were not even stocking things like tomatoes because they knew there was no point their clientele could not afford them at present time. He tells me all this while I stroll in happily with 6 tomatoes in a plastic bag. It shocking how insulated one can become from the daily struggles that are happening to people right around the block from you.

The cost of fuel versus the cost of basic daily survival really impacted me. When life gets expensive at home we cut down on our driving. Instead of making 2 trips to town in the week, we make one. Instead of eating out once a week, we stay home. But, here for so many there is no buffer. Most people are already living on the edge. People get by day to day that is how life is lived. They don't know where the next meal is coming from tomorrow. They are completely dependent on God to provide. As many people say in Mombasa, "Inshallah" which is an Arabic term for "if Allah wills, or if God wills." We hear Mu$ lims and Christians both use the term.

So, I know I can't look at a cabbage the same now. It is a symbol of what the daily struggle is for many here in Kenya.

Ugali

Yesterday, we had supper with our friends in town. Our friend Ken is from Kenya and so we have been asking him and his wife many questions about life in Kenya. They had us over and Ken made us a classic Kenyan dish Ugali! It is a common side at a meal and is a stiff starchy food. You can pick it up in your hands, roll it up and make a hole in it where you can scoop up whatever other food you are eating with it. He had a stir-fry type dish on the side with it with meat and peppers. It was all very good!