I have always thought that going to the village market is so much more fun than
going to a city market. During the holidays, I visited my aunt who lived in the
village. When she asked me to accompany her, I was more than willing to do so.
The unpleasant part was having to get up a little too early by my standards, 6
a.m., but I managed that. I carried my aunt's basket as we walked into the busy
market. It was busy, even though it was so early. I heard some sweet chirping in
between the chatter of people buying and bargaining. The chirping was from the
birds' stall. I was surprised to see pet birds on sale here.
My aunt walked
around the stalls, looking at the wares. Everyone seemed to recognise her and
greeted her. The hawkers were friendly and enquired about me. My aunt proudly
spoke to them about me. I had to nudge her and tell her that there really was no
need to tell so much, but I am afraid that my protests didn't stop my aunt at
There were a lot of interesting vegetables in the market which I was not able
to identify. There were even some fruits that I could not recognise. The vendors
were very willing to let me taste some of the unfamiliar fruits. I had so much
There were stalls selling sarongs and scarves. All the items looked colourful
and inviting. I bought a sarong for my father and a scarf for my mother. I was
sure that they would like these gifts.
In the meantime, my aunt had bought chicken, fish and vegetables. I helped
her choose the fruits. Near the fruit stalls were several stalls selling
delicious cooked food. My aunt and I had pancakes with peanut butter spread. I
also bought some prawn fritters to eat at home.
I carried the heavy basket as we walked back to the house. Walking in the
open air amidst the friendly atmosphere in the village gave me a sense of peace
and belonging. I had actually enjoyed the visit to the village market.