Today I asked M if she would let me come to the market with her, she had been kindly getting vegetables and fruit for me from some mysterious place and today I asked if I could join her. She was happy for me to come but told me that if I did the buying I wouldn’t get a good price so I happily agreed to let her do the talking.
After a kilometer walk along the main road we came to the market, I knew it was the market because that was where M stopped and there was piles of vegetables everywhere. As we walked through the stalls that looked like a strong wind might knock them down we were greeted warmly with big smiles. M did all the quiet bargaining in the local language as I got my first experience in a local Ugandan market.
There were a group of children playing near to where we bought our produce and dried fish, one of them came up to me and held my hand for a few seconds then shyly went back to his playmates. The children were busy collecting scraps of paper, one of the children had a pencil crayon and was carefully trying to copy the letters from a bit of packaging, she seemed very intent on her work but was having difficulty as her orange pencil crayon didn’t write so well.
The walk back with our bundles of sweet potato, tomatoes, green peppers, onions, carrots, and dried fish was less pleasant than the walk there as several large trucks passed bringing up enormous clouds of dust, by the time we reached the bread vendor at the end of our street we were both coated in dust from head to toe… and today was laundry day!
After a kilometer walk along the main road we came to the market, I knew it was the market because that was where M stopped and there was piles of vegetables everywhere. As we walked through the stalls that looked like a strong wind might knock them down we were greeted warmly with big smiles. M did all the quiet bargaining in the local language as I got my first experience in a local Ugandan market.
There were a group of children playing near to where we bought our produce and dried fish, one of them came up to me and held my hand for a few seconds then shyly went back to his playmates. The children were busy collecting scraps of paper, one of the children had a pencil crayon and was carefully trying to copy the letters from a bit of packaging, she seemed very intent on her work but was having difficulty as her orange pencil crayon didn’t write so well.
The walk back with our bundles of sweet potato, tomatoes, green peppers, onions, carrots, and dried fish was less pleasant than the walk there as several large trucks passed bringing up enormous clouds of dust, by the time we reached the bread vendor at the end of our street we were both coated in dust from head to toe… and today was laundry day!
2 comments:
What is the local language? Do most people speak English? If you went to the market on your own would you be able to communicate?
The local language in Kampala is called Ruganda, I have already learned how to say thank you in Ruganda but I am sure I couldnt spell it correctly!
Most people do speak English as it is the language of instruction in all schools.
I'm sure that I would be able to communicate on my own as I was talking to many of the vendors when I was there the first time, however, I am also fairly sure I would never have goten the prices that M got!
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