By Rosemary Parkinson, Freelance Writer
Hyacinth and Cheap Charlie run a stall together at the Savanna-la-Mar Market. - Rosemary Parkinson Photo
I JUST love a market -- every market, and dat's de truth.
Now that I live in Negril, the Savanna-la-Mar Market has become my favourite haunt. Every Friday morning you will see me there, sitting by Cheap Charlie's and Hyacinth's stall close to the entrance just before the end of Great George Street. While Cheap Charlie runs around searching for my long list of fruits and vegetables, I normally sit with Hyacinth and hear all the suss, watch the shoppers go by, and chat with the young boy who is always smoking a big spliff behind the stalls -- the smoke billowing out and mingling with the smells of the market. He's a funny one 'cause every Friday he tells me, with a big smile on his face, "ah soon stop 'ear Miss. I soon stop".
Yeah right me boy. "Gwon so and see wey yuh reach in life," say I, in return.
Every now and then someone walks up to me trying to sell wares, bottle openers, laces, shoes, jeans, shoe polish. You name it, these guys carry it. Every Friday same t'ing.
Between all the bustle of crowded little stalls the traditional carts weave in and out, some with scandal bags overflowing with fresh produce, others with all manner of goods. "Mi coming true. Mi coming true," can be heard continuously through the general chatter of shoppers, along with cries of "oranges, sweet oranges, fifty dollah a bag", to "dis way you get fresh scallion, sixty dollah a bunch, sixty dollah a bunch for de nice fresh scallion." And all the while gospel music resonating from boom boxes hits the air along with the aroma wafting from Miss Palmer's cookshop.
Miss Palmer? She cooks all kind of t'ing. Dat is de only place Cheap Charlie eats, I can tell you dat. She always cooking conch, tripe and beans, cowfoot, 'hoxtail', callaloo, ackee and saltfish, and serious food too like breadfruit, dasheen, sweet potato and Irish.
"Get me a little somet'ing Hyacinth do, I want to taste Miss Palmer's food," said I. "Okay -- what yuh want a heighty, 'undred or 'undred and twenty?" And so it goes, back and forth until it's time for me to get my own cart and have my purchases transported to the car. A whirlwind trip into the meat market is my next stop where I buy my beef and pork from good ol' Rotty and his able assistant (he gave me the sweetest pork chop the other day as a gift -- dat t'ing was tasty yuh hear? Thanks sweetheart. Every Friday same t'ing.
On this particular Friday 'though, I had asked Cheap Charlie to take me around, I wanted to meet some of the oldies but goldies in the market. Hyacinth right away reminded me that she could as well come under that category as she had been coming to this same said market "from when I born. My father was a butcher so from before me know money, me coming to the market. Dis is wey I meet Cheap Charlie".
How many children do you have? I asked Hyacinth.
"Six".
I should not have asked but I did.
"I have one with Cheap Charlie and five for five other men." Looking over at Cheap Charlie brings this defence of Hyacinth: "It all depends on how life go -- if you want to progress sometime you have to make a change you know Miss Rose."
TEAM WORK TO BUILD A NATION
We first stopped by Teresa Dobson. Teresa has been in the market for some 40 years. "It was only de front piece did here den, dis part just get built about twenty years now", said Teresa. When asked what she would advise Jamaicans about the market, I thought she would never stop talking. "It's best you come inside the market and share yu know. I mean, here we used to sell each other t'ings. If Patsy not here, I sell fi har. People must come right into a market, not just stand near de outside. Wi tings in here real good 'cause de sun can't spoil dem."
With arms tucked in her lap, she ended her conversation with: "Dat is how people supposed to build a country -- team work. Fi true."
Eva Morgan was sucking on a large piece of pawpaw when she was introduced, and my interrogation was not going to stop that, I can tell you. "Me? I been here many years -- me can't even count to tell de truut. Yes man, dis work I use to educate both my children -- dis same said work send dem to England. One is a lab technician and de other a nurse. Oh! Yes! You can achieve a lot when you come and sell in de market."
A lady walked by, singing loudly, "Good morning."
"Good morning my Queen," replied Miss Eva. "Anyone come to you from me?" asked the lady. "No me nah see anyone". As she picked up her mangoes she said to me, "I buy all my food here. I prefer to buy it here -- de food much cheaper and me spread my wealth a little bit -- me nah 'ave to give you my name, eh eh." She turned to Eva, "You 'ave any yam?"
"No, but me 'ave dasheen." With that exchange, the customary choosing and weighing began. Conversation over. Business start.
Patsy White has been in the market for 25 years. She has six children and all of them owe their lives to her vending she says. "All I did here in the market is what bring dem to what dey are today."
Suddenly, I looked around and for as far as I could see, this part of the market was all about women. So I asked the question. "Yeah man, we 'ave a lot of men in dis market. Yuh don't see dem but dey hey." Okay then, then.
I stopped by my friend Luther, just inside the actual main entrance to the market before returning to Hyacinth. Luther sells baskets -- all manner of baskets, hanging every which way from the ceiling. Having chosen one, it was duly taken down, dusted to perdition and handed to me with pride. "Mi gi' yu for two 'undred dollar. You want another fan? 'ave it fi one 'undred dollar, dem nice fi real?"
And so it was that I bought yet another basket and fan for myself. I soon will be able to open my own stall in the market, I swear.
There was to be no mercy for me this day though. Hyacinth was now talking to a sweet looking fine-boned lady "Dem call me -- no, no, don't put my name. Don't put my name. Call me Terry if you want," she said quickly as I was introduced by Miss Wicked (Hyacinth) herself. "My shop? It just called Shop. I been 'ere for about six years now. I sell all kind a t'ings -- drink, liquor, Pampers."
"And a lot of white rum," quipped Miss H with more peals of laughter. Miss Terry turned around and refused to be interviewed any further.
Me? I decided to leave the market before Miss Hyacinth got me into trouble. True. True.
"Nexx Friday, yuh hear?"
