For the love of markets

Like most French neighborhoods, mine has a market which takes place twice a week. In fact, it has two markets, each taking place two days a week, both less than five minutes walk from my place. Both markets are a collection of vegetable sellers, a butcher, a fish monger, a flower seller, a baker or two, some cheese hawkers, and some guys with carts of cheap plastic crap. Since moving into my new home in the 20th* I have been cruising through the market to pick up what I need - lots of fresh veggies and kindly people.

I am a universal supporter of farmers markets, but the extreme cuteness of French markets puts me in a particular gleeful mood. They may not be full of the extreme variety of peppers that Mexican markets boast; they may not have as many things I can't identify as Thai markets; true, they don't include the high pressure sales and crazy colors of Indian markets, but they do include lots of really cute French people and fresh food, and for the moment, that's all I need. On top of that, walking through the market is almost like walking through a musical. Each vendor is calling out in a cooing voice the special he or she has. Clementines deux euro kilo is a particularly sweet ballad. The prices are good, the food is fresh, and everyone throws in an extra handful of whatever you are buying after they have weighed the bag, accompanying it with a sly head nod and a smile.

While I love the market so, I didn't truly appreciate it until I went to a supermarket this evening. Opposed to the bright light, brisk air, and cheerful voices, the supermarkets in France are just like supermarkets in any developed nation. Cold, quiet, and full of rushed folks trying to get in and out with a minimum of irritation overtaking them. I needed flour and rice, so I had to go, but I will make it a point not to be returning more frequently than I have to. France's commercial sector is diverse and interesting, and like all things diverse and interesting, it is slowly being overcome by things dull and depressing - because the dull and depressing are easier and more convenient.

The Metro stop nearest my home is on the corner of an intersection. In all four directions you can walk from there you will pass by a supermarket. Just about everything supermarkets sell seems to be available at other shops specialized shopts - but inferior quality and lower prices win out when everything is all in one place. If I take the longer walk from the Metro station, I pass two cheese shops, three butchers, one sausage shop, and four bakeries (none of the bakeries, sadly are independent, but one of them is actually pretty tasty). Same song, different verse, people used to have the time to go to four or five shops daily, now they want to do it one stop once a week. Admittedly, the cheese, meat, sausage, and bread selections at virtually every French supermarket is than they are at any supermarket back home, but only time will tell if that trend will continue. I will keep on spending the extra time (and sometimes money) getting my food from the little retailers while I can.


*Which incidentally, I have realized is the first time I have ever lived alone in an apartment, oddly. Through the past twenty-four years of existence I have always managed to have housemates, roommates, or family of some sort, and damn, this living alone thing can be kinda... err... lonely?