Mushin Market:unfinished

Mushin Market:

It seemed lately that my life was all about going to market and i deeply resented it. I didn't really mind going to market but having to do that everyday (even if for different reasons) will be the undoing of any averagely sane person- or so i strongly believe. For goodness' sake there are a thousand other things to do - like go to the beach, go to birthday parties (or just parties), go to .... not movies, cinemas were still a rarity. Anyways, one of the consolations i got from keeping at it was that i hated to see my mom coming home from the market with her stuffed bags - one on her head and one on her hand ( i sometimes can't help but think she does it intentionally just to rub it in my face that i am a less-than-well-trained daughter), but nothing beats me accompanying my mom to the market in my rank of utter dislike. Moreover, it is time-out for me, my only excuse to do as i will - as long as i don't overdo it and as long as i come home with the said items i went to purchase - don't get me wrong, i wasn't overly into truancy, just the average. It takes me about 8mins to get to the market using the public bus transportation that plies that route. My usual routine is to get off a stop before the final bus stop and take a short cut through the market, start at that end of the market so that by the time i walk all the way to the other end, i'd have been closer to the final bus stop and on my jolly way home, having hopefully bought all i need. First major stop is usually at the meat seller's. These days i even have fun haranguing prices with them unlike the first few times when i had to go to the market unaccompanied by my mom; then I'd have to go to her 'customer' who sells dried fish and give her the list of things to buy - especially meat, or better still when i got bolder I'd go to her 'meat customer' and tell him how much meat i wanted to buy and he'd (in my mind, generously) cut me a sizable portion. Sadly, whenever i got home my mother was hardly ever impressed with my bargaining power, plus the meat seemed to have shrunk in size somewhere between the trip back from the market.

Well on the bright side, this market was somewhat better than Idiaraba. Even when it rained, I didn't feel so yucky. However, both markets have something in common-they are notoriously volatile and one has to be very careful, watchful (and prayerful) on each trip there because a seeming normalcy could turn into a scene from a horror movie within a split second - no joke here, no exaggeration either. I remember once it took my mom an unusually long time to return from the market and we didn't think much of it until she came back with an almost unbelievable story but also a scar to show for it - thankfully she wasn't mortally wounded because it was that serious, she sustained the injury while struggling with a thousand and one other people to get on the last few buses, and the buses were on their part had substantial excuse to drive as reckless as they dared to (and they do reckless on a good day).

Even if i wanted to, I couldn't dilly-dally for long at the Market once i start my purchases because of the increasing weightiness i almost always harbour.