If you know me at all, you know I love sleep. I always have, and this (like my love for food) will never change. “You’ll sleep your life away?” Incorrect. I’ll sleep as much as I please, and then enjoy the time I’m awake in a much better spirit. My Saturday mornings have almost always been reserved for sleeping in. But here in San Jose, Costa Rica our morning trips to the outdoor market are always worth getting up for.
Lucky for us, there are several options nearby for purchasing our produce for the week. We’ve grown to prefer the Saturday mercado in Pavas as a supplement to the Wednesday organic market near the condo here in Escazu. It has a great selection and is close to Jordan’s favorite tea store, where we sometimes indulge in an after market iced tea. (optional rum) This past Saturday I did the shopping alone, and took extra time to notice all the wonderful things that make me appreciate those mornings so much.
In one regard, the market is what you can expect for an outdoor public space. There are children screaming when they don’t get what they want, someone trying to sell you lottery tickets, husbands glancing annoyingly at a list their wives sent them with, and of course, the old deranged woman preaching loudly and obnoxiously about saving your soul. Walking down the long corridor traps you with vendors on both sides, yelling and selling their prized goods, or things they really need to get rid of. “Papayas Rrrrrrrrrrrrricas!” The way the Spanish “r” rolls off their tongue makes me smile, even if their papayas look like they were “rico” yesterday. A 10 year-old girl was proudly boasting about her red Chiles, with her father smiling proudly in the background while he took a snack break in their old truck.
The other fantastic thing about the vendors is that you can never walk away without a compliment. No matter your age, race, disposition, or budget, women are guaranteed a lovely, yet totally unauthentic, compliment. Beautiful, pretty, and my personal favorite “Queen” are just a few of the tricks they try and say to sneak another head of lettuce into your sac. I can’t say that I don’t like it.
There are always small yet salient cultural differences I notice in my travels. This past Saturday I noticed a teenage daughter holding the hand of her mother while they slowly walked through the busy crowd. I hear the daughter discussing how she’d like to make Pico de Gallo and I smile at the patience and attention they have for one another. I am working on my patience, and I love my mother very much, but at 17 there is no way you would have found me holding her hand down the supermarket aisle discussing my desire to open a can of mild salsa. I’ve seen this often here in Costa Rica; men and sons strolling with their arms wrapped together, best friends grasping hands in the mall. Touch seems to be so forgotten in American culture. A handshake is the most contact we have with people throughout a normal day, perhaps the occasional hug or kiss from a loved one. But somehow we’ve lost the physical connection that so many other cultures value and embrace.
We normally purchase a variety of things for the week and we always know it’s time to go when we can no longer carry our large canvas bag. (You can also “rent” an old shopping cart for your purchases, or hire a willing young man to carry your bag if you’d like.) I am of course in culinary and sustainable eating heaven. Fresh tomatoes, frisee, any type of herb you can think of, papayas, eggplants, avocados, limes, plantains, several types of bananas, squash, the list goes on and on. Costa Rica does not appear to have an organic certification similar to the USDA’s regulation in the states, but we trust in the farmers from whom we buy our “organic” produce.
The market is filled with Ticos (Costa Ricans) and the occasional Gringos such as myself. Sometimes I exchange smiles with the other foreigners, secretly hoping we share the appreciation of how special and amazing this place is. Almost everything surrounding us is fresh, somewhat local, and variety reigns. Clearly Costa Rican’s climate supports this heavy agricultural economy, which, speaking in Jerod Diamond terms, means physical environment is the main reason for the thriving market. The farm to table distance here, for me, is significantly lower than any place I have lived before (with the exception, possibly, of El Salvador). When I return the states, I won’t have the luxury of having all this variety so accessible and sustainable to purchase, especially at such reasonable prices. And, most certainly not as fresh. Most of the produce we purchase was picked the day before, and hasn’t been sitting in trucks or refrigerator units for weeks before being available to consumers.
I always buy an Agua de Pipa to quench my mid-shopping thirst. Swiftly and methodically the end of a whole coconut is chopped off with a machete, and then are plunged into an ice water bath to chill before purchase They contain coconut water, (not to be confused with coconut milk) which is thought to have numerous health benefits. Just one contains more potassium than a banana and is low is sugar and calories. I’ve read that some countries even use it as a replacement for saline solution and inject it intravenously! If that ever happened to me, I’d probably rip out the line and drink it similarly to the hose found on camelbacks. These can be found all over central America, and I even bought one from some kids selling them at a speed bump in rural Belize. They are highly addiction and are much fresher than anything you can buy in a store. Que rico!
Besides the verduras and frutas, you can also find fresh flowers, potted plants and herbs, goldfish, meats (they smell quite interesting), cheeses, beans, fresh trout, pupusas (El Salvador’s famous cheese/yummy stuffed tortillas) and the occasional wandering drunk. There is never a dull moment at the market, and I always leave with an extra spring in my step, high on fresh vegetables and a large dose of Tico culture.
Normally I have just enough time to unpack and clean our purchases before heading to a 12:30 yoga class. Perhaps I get a little too into it, as you can see from the attached photos. There are no stickers to remove on our fruit, and no twist ties around our greens. But, there is always plenty of dirt to rinse from my 3 bundles of cilantro, the occasional furry friend in my spinach, and sometimes a lovely piece of bright green grass forgotten in my parsley. Just that piece of fresh grass alone makes getting out of bed worth it all.