In the past, I loved going to the village markets. My mother told me that when I was a child, every time she went to the market to sell small items, she would put me in a basket and carry me to the market. At one end of the basket, my mother would put potatoes or corn, or whatever my father grew in the garden, and at the other end, I would sit neatly in it. At the market, my mother would display her goods for sale, while I would still “sit” in the basket. Going to the market, there were only acquaintances, when they saw me, they would caress my cheeks and scold me lovingly. Some would give me sticky rice, others would give me a cake.
When I was about 6 or 7 years old, I still followed my mother to the market. My mother carried her goods in front, and I ran behind. My mother was used to “walking” so she walked very fast, and I ran after her until I was exhausted. When we got to the market, my mother displayed her goods for sale, and I sat there… panting. At this age, she asked for food at every opportunity. My mother had not sold anything yet, but I kept asking for this cake and that cake. My mother got angry and scolded me, saying that if I continued to “nag”, next time she would let me stay home. Only then did I agree to sit still and let my mother sell.
I sat at the entrance of the market, sometimes meeting relatives who patted my head and praised me, giving me some spare change. So, I happily ran to buy some cakes, chewing them, feeling as happy as Tet. Once, I saw a woman selling fried tofu, for people to buy and cook. I thought it was cakes, so I rushed over and bought two and then ran away in a panic. I ran a few steps and brought them to my mouth to bite. They were bland, so I spat them out. I turned back to the woman selling cakes and asked for sugar water, she laughed and said, there is no sugar water in tofu.
Going to the hamlet market over and over again is boring, because there are always the same items and the same people. So, I have a wish to go to the commune or district market. In the past, my mother only went to the district market once in a while, but rarely went to the commune market because... it was out of the way (the commune market is about 2 kilometers farther than the district market).
When my mother went to the district market, I also asked to go with her. At that time, my district was still a "remote" district, so it was quite poor in terms of infrastructure, but for a country boy like me, the district market was also strange. My district market had a bridge across the river, the bridge had some broken planks that had fallen off, leaving some holes where you could see the rushing river water. When I walked across those holes, I was afraid of slipping and dropping my sandals into the river. Later, when I grew up and went to high school, I often walked across that bridge and thought back to my own fear back then, it was really funny.
Compared to the hamlet market, the district market sold a lot of goods. With the actual needs of the people at that time, they often told each other that going to the district market "you can buy anything". And it was true, at that time, the majority of the villagers were still poor, going to the district market they only bought daily necessities, and other goods were considered "luxury goods".
I followed my mother from the beginning of the market to the end, mainly to look at this and that for pleasure. My mother took me to the place where the woman selling grass jelly was, and bought me a bowl. The grass jelly was served with sugar water and a little coconut milk. I sat and slurped it up, and it was gone in no time. I returned the bowl to the woman selling grass jelly, and we continued walking. Sometimes when I met an old acquaintance, my mother would stop and “chat” for a while, while I would wander around nearby or squat and wait.
After the market, mother and daughter did not get anything valuable, except for what father had told them: a hoe blade, a scythe blade, a few meters of fishing net and some other small items. And of course, when they got home, mother would treat the whole family to a delicious pot of sour soup, with all kinds of vegetables and some freshwater fish available at home.
The older I get, the less I go to the market (inversely proportional to when I was young). Now, the market is relatively unfamiliar to me (because I rarely go to the market, I don't know where to buy this or that). Sometimes, wanting to find the feeling of going to the market as a child, I also try to go to the market. But the feeling is completely different. And then, in my mind, I remember a saying of an ancient philosopher: "Everything changes, we cannot bathe twice in the same river".
TRAN NHAT HA
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