Peru's Markets

El Mercado

Camino hasta el Mercado
Inundation of sounds, sights, a feast for the eyes And I finally take time to take it all in;
Each vehicle with its distinct sonido
Impatient honks of cars
Continuous belling of the vendedor selling plátanos, naranjas, limones; speakers in the background, his wagon of goods attached, pausing at corners
Warning honk of motos whizzing past intersections,
Whistles, catcalls, holas
Each has its own special sound.
Vendedores wearing colorful mantels, older women in their layers of skirts, wools, bright shirts and hats
Calling out “Mamita, que vas a comprar?”
Me, pondering what to buy,
Stalls with produce plucked that morning, still covered in earth
Fruit stands like art, hues of reds, greens, purples, oranges, yellows- and shades in between
Vibrant and fresh, attracting flies
Buzzing around, people, couples strolling, busy shoppers weaving through crowds, tiny ones sucking sugar cane, eating chifles and riding plastic bikes
Senores lounging, gossiping around the market,
Vendors eating their lunches out of plastic Tupperware,
Eating fruit from their own stands; tantalizing flavors.
Scraggly dogs wander streets, scamper between legs and search through garbage spilling out of bins
Babies perch on backs of their mothers, loaded down with bags
Ansianos stoop on the sides, weathered hands grip pushcarts
Me, making my way home loaded with cheese, fruit, vegetables
And thoughts of the market.