Bold colors and lingering smells meld one into the other and pull me closer in a slow hand over hand motion like a mime’s invisible cord. Impossibly perfect strawberries perched like jewels in a basket are the first sight that catches my eye, but as my eye dances over the beads of water on the berries, my nose is distracted by the earthy smell of coffee beans, and I turn, distracted.
Guided on a sensory magic carpet that moves unperceivably beneath my feet, I am lured deeper and deeper into the narrow passageway. As the harsh sunlight fades, I am enveloped by every hue in nature’s crayon box neatly nestled in rows under undulating canopies that rise and fall like Technicolor sand dunes.
This is the magic of the outdoor market. It could be any outdoor market, the trappings are similar around the world, but this market is in Albertville in the Savoy Region of France. I am here with a friend who is a local to the area, and market day is shopping day in the provincial town-a day to get fresh produce, and pets in cages, and secondhand clothing at bargain prices.
~Colorful umbrellas in the shadow of the majestic Alps~
In the pursuit of living like a local while traveling, there is no place so willing to tell the secrets of daily life like the outdoor market. It is not just the tastes and smells that one can savor here. Local flavor in the form of guileless culture is also on the menu. It is a microcosm of what makes the culture unique complete with samples.
Without even trying, I can pick up on the food variances that will make their way to the tables of the Savoyards that evening. Fruits, vegetables, and fish are abundant, as is more types and styles of bread than I have ever even imagined. There are round ones with floured crosshatches that are big enough to grab with both hands. There are long, thin ones that seem more suitable as swords than dinner in my imagination. There is an entire platter of perfectly proportioned orbs of bread that have been painstakingly stacked into a delicate pyramid. The attention to beautiful presentation fascinates me. It is the French way, I am told. The French way is delightful.
As we walk deeper into the maze of colors, cultural lessons are nestled among the wares like little gems. A plainly dressed, older man with a jaunty hat cocked sideways on his head invites into his booth to taste his fruits. The cherries he proudly presents have been grown in his own backyard nearby. The peaches we taste are just okay, but he admits behind his hand that those have been imported from Spain. The knowingly disdainful raise of his eyebrows reminds us of the obvious drawbacks of Spanish fruit. Not local, not as good is the message. A lesson in cultural bias that is lost on a foreigner, but fascinating nonetheless.
Drunk on colors and cherry juice, we continue to wander lazily giving me an opportunity to consider what the same is and what is different in this town that is much like mine, but not alike at all. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot two mothers with toddlers sitting in strollers who are using their market day as an informal coffee klatch. Over the heads of their little ones, they swap stories, talking quickly, as they know their time is short. I voyeuristically insert myself into their world for just a moment, for although I don’t understand the words, I want to catch the spirit of their outing.
While one mother waits for the vendor to package her choices, her child begins to fuss, so she quickly whips out a stick of honey to keep him quiet for a few more minutes. I feel a kinship with this mother who speaks a different language, and whose clothes unlike mine. So many times I have done this same thing. As the baby finishes the honey stick, the mother accepts her package, two flapping and floundering quail that are intended for dinner that evening. That is where the similarities end. Never have I carried home dinner live. I smile at the opportunity to examine the unique fingerprint of this foreign, yet not so foreign town.
Same, but different. Culture and conflict. Mundane and magical. It’s all on display at the market.