Saturday Farmers Market or “Feria”

One of the more rewarding experiences to-date is buying our produce for the week at the Saturday “Feria” or Farmer’s Market. There are two fresh fruit and produce stands. The one I am drawn to is at the edge of the market. The first time we went, we discovered that the line was already really long at 9am. Matt was “hangry,” which probably made the line seem longer and made me wonder why a 48-year old man has still not learned that he needs to eat within an hour of waking. Sam is the same way…genetics. I grabbed fewer items than I would have liked, but promised myself to come earlier the next time.

So yesterday, I made sure that we got there right at 8am. The four people staffing the produce stand were only about a third of the way through setting up. I was about the 2nd or 3rd vulture to descend. You could feel the buzz of need and slight competition in the air among these early arrivers. Who would get the best head of lettuce?

I picked up my basket and started filling it with vibrantly colored produce. I enjoyed picking out the best of the best as I worked my way through my mental list until I had everything I wanted that was out. Then I stepped back and just watched as they continued to unload their truck. It was already warm this early in the morning. They were working fast, I am sure feeling the pressure as more and more people gathered and got in their way. I watched the guy who seemed to be in charge direct one of the workers on how best to “present” the bananas. I was impressed by the care and obvious pride they took in their produce. A plastic crate of cucumbers came out next. I saw him notice they had a light film of dust on them. He walked back to the truck, grabbed a spray bottle of water and misted them until they were clean and glistening. He returned to the truck for the next crate with a serious look of concentration, his back was soaked and his face dripped in sweat.

I continued to watch as a few more crates were unloaded into hand-woven baskets, but where were the strawberries? I felt a slight sense of panic. What if there were no strawberries this week? So, I waited, not wanting to be pushy. As they seemed to be getting to the end, I couldn’t hold back any longer and asked, “Tiene las fresas hoy?” He nodded yes and I am pretty sure asked me how many I wanted. I replied “Dos cajas, por favor.” He nodded again and went back into the truck. He did several other things that had nothing to do with strawberries, but I continued to wait. Finally, I saw him uncover a flat of strawberries and watched in appreciation as he hand selected two containers of berries and handed them to me. “Muchas gracias!” I smiled. I waited in what had, just like last week, become a long line and paid about $30 for almost a weeks worth of produce. Score.

Matt and I walked home in the heat and appreciated the sections of the road in shade. As we entered the condo, I noticed Gus was still sleeping, Sam was playing Fortnite and the clock said it was 9:15. It had taken us an hour and half to walk into town, get lattes and get produce. Then, it took another hour to clean, cut and bag everything. At home, a trip to Whole Foods would have netted the same result in about 45 minutes. Life here may be simpler and at times more rewarding, but I can’t help but notice things definitely take longer.