Three Corners market
On a Thursday morning, Becky, Elsie, Christy, Rachel, Kenneth, and I hoisted empty backpacks & full waterbottles, and set out for the bazaar. Given the way the girls had talked about the journey I was expecting a long arduous trek, so I was surprised to discover the opposite end of Big Bekondo marks nearly halfway there. Of course, I'd travelled the way many times by truck, but it's funny how riding in a vehicle skews your perspective on manageable distances.
The ramshackle shelters housing the market were not as chock-a-bloc full as I might have expected, nor as busy with customers, but the place was undoubtedly a market selling the usual variety from clothing to foodstuffs to household goods. Both African cloths and Western clothes were for sale. One area was devoted to ladies selling huge piles of cassava. Some ladies sold a wide collection of spices of many sizes, shapes and consistencies--nearly each of which, to my queries, she replied was "for making pepe soup".
Wandering through, keeping my eyes open for anything interested or useful, the abundance of graters--probably used to shred cocoyams to make gari--caught my eye. "Home-made; nice!" I thought. When I saw the underside of one, however, I realized how very homemade they were: simply a round metal tin, bottom removed, opened along one side, flattened, and punctured repeatedly with a nail. Puts a whole new spin on recycling.
The meat vendors were interesting, but best not to look too closely. The men at one stall agreed to let me snap a picture of their cattle's legs--hooves still attached-then helpfully held up the floppy hide of a cow's head for me to "snap" as well. Just ignore the flies buzzing around.
Three Corners market is at the site of the duck pond (also known as the road through town), but I managed to keep a safe distance from most of the geese wandering through the stalls.
We went early in the morning for the best weather and the least disruption of school, so the restaurants were only getting started for the day when we left. No foodcourt here, but randomly scattered throughout the market were small restaurant stalls with a cooking fire in the middle, benches lining the edges. Pepe soup, fufu and sauce appeared to be on order in most of them. Customers were only beginning to congregate for the cooking as we collected ourselves and took to the road.