You’d think we’d seen enough markets by now but you’ll see this one was different. Eric told us about it on the trip to the lake and he said it was worthwhile.
We took a tuk tuk into town with no idea what to expect. Color and light and chattering in Quechua all around us was what we found. We were the only foreigners that we saw if not the only tourists, as we did spot a few city folk in the crowd but if they were locals or from Lima I couldn’t say.
Heads swiveled when we spoke English and I shrugged. It’s just another language like Quechua I said and we say the same stupid things. They laughed.
We tried to learn a few words of Quechua but it’s not easy to hear and remember the sounds with no point of reference. This is the land that gave the world tomatoes potatoes and corn. Can you imagine 5,000 different types of potatoes? Me neither.
They freeze dry them too for soups. They put the potatoes out at night and they freeze and during the day they sit in the sun and dry. They do it over and over until the potato is shriveled and light as a feather. The Incas kept them for years freeze dried in storage against famine and their descendants do the same.
We wandered along buying fruits and vegetables here and there. Layne likes checking the quality at each stall though we don’t bargain as prices are so low it’s embarrassing. We got a giant bag of bread rolls for a buck. More avocados than you can eat for 75 cents and so forth.
The pork lady who gave us a bag of pork with boiled corn and sliced onions for 15 soles - four bucks -and we made dinner for two out of it.
They did not die in vain and the crackling is to die for, trust me.
Their hats tell stories in a language I don’t know but every village has its own color and design so people can identify each other’s villages of origin.
Imagine a day in the shops in your life and doing this:
The corn is called “choclo” and looks deformed but they take the kernels and boil them and they are huge when cooked. Not like anything you’ve seen.
Layne bought some lettuce here where the stall holder is freshening her stock in the heat. The afternoon she washed everything she bought to make sure it’s clean for our delicate stomachs.
Do not throw trash under the sink or you’ll be fined. We’re watching you.
Time for a juice. We chose a papaya. Delicious.
We walked past the meat market. We rarely cook meat aboard and only eat it at restaurants.
Nothing wasted.
Blueberries! I have been surprised how we find them all along the PanAmerican Highway.
Hold me back when we pass the bread section. We asked for savory bread (“salado”) as the sweet rolls taste like Hawaiian bread.
That was as authentic as it gets. And we got a bunch of vegetables to take home. Great day.
