Where there are no Supermarkets

As a group of volunteers, we have pretty much been all over the world. One of the indicators of development we have noticed is the quantity and quality of supermarkets. The existence of a supermarket shows that there is a working import system, transportation system, and a large enough group of people who can afford to add the cost of rent, electricity, and salary onto what they pay for food. Conakry (which has about the same population as Philadelphia) has about three supermarkets. I have not been to any of them yet, but I have heard rumors that you can get real cheddar cheese at one. The only downside is that a brick of it costs 500,000 GF or about $70 US. So for us lowly volunteers, it’s straight to the market. The market can be overwhelming. Some are vast and have seemingly no organization. You walk down narrow paths, which usually have a stream of filth running down the middle, trying to not bump into the woman with goods piled high on their heads. Surprisingly, I have grown to like shopping in the market. It is a social event. Yesterday, I decided that I was going to make a salad for lunch, come hell of high water. In Dubreka the only vegetable you can count on being in the market in quantity and quality is the onion. Tomatoes are also always there but of varying quality. Cucumbers come every few days but are sometimes too moldy to eat. Lettuce is a once a week thing. Luckily, I am in Conakry for swearing in and so finding vegetables to make a salad was possible. So the quest for salad started with the walk to the market. It’s only about 10 minutes long, but you would be surprised how many conversations you can get yourself into in a ten-minute walk. “Bonjour Fote! Tu es Americaine?”, “Oui, je viens des Etates Unis” “Oh I speaken the English small-small!” It’s always “small-small” since most English teachers here are apparently from Sierra Leone and speak a pidgin English. It’s good in a way because it’s a chance to practice your French and explain the Peace Corps, but it’s bad because it turns 10 minutes into many more. When you get to the market you have to scope out the stands and see where the produce you want is hiding. When you sidle up to the stand, you don’t just take what you want. First you have to greet the market lady- if you do it in the local language that is best. The friendlier you are, the more luck you will have with step two. Step two is to ‘discutez la prix’. I typically pick up a cucumber and ask how much does this cost. When the woman responds, I make a face and say “Really, for one this small?” As I begin to walk away, she will usually come back with a lower price. If not, it’s on to the next person. In Dubreka, I had a relationship with the market woman I frequented. I would ask about their family, they would ask about mine. One even offered me her baby! I am looking forward to getting to know people in the market in Kindia. It is a great way to culturally integrate and save money. I ended up getting a salad with lettuce, cucumber, tomato, hard boiled egg, onion and…AVOCADO! We are right on the cusp of the best season of the year in Guinea. That is avocado and mango season. They both are just beginning to appear on the market and when the season is in full bloom they become practically free. I doused some Frank’s buffalo sauce (carried lovingly across the ocean in my suitcase) on as dressing and voila! dinner time.