Yesterday we followed hoofprints in the mud across the bridge that lies behind our hostal, across the Panamerican Highway to the animal market. We entered by the small animal section where chicken wire circles and bamboo crates held chickens, ducks and guinea pigs for sale. Where purchases had been made, chickens (2 for $7) hung by their feet, or grain sacks, bulging with their cargo wiggled momentaily before settling. The smell of ammonia and chicken feathers laced the air
Further in, pigs wallowed in the mud or nosed for corn their owners tossed to keep them quiet. Two women negotiated over three piglets held with rope harnesses. Thirty-two for this one, or fifty-six for the pair. As I watched, the bristled ear of a sow brushed my fingers. Five llamitas drew us further in, at $75 each, they were almost tempting. Cheaper than a new lawnmower, but the airlines, I think, would be a little less open to a baby llama than they would a puppy. A gentleman walked by with one of those tucked into his coat, a finger absently stroking the soft fur. He smiled when he saw me watching.
Cows and calves stood hobbled, most stood easy, chewing their cud, though one aimed a switf kick at a passing man. Others added their contributions to the mire. Two men began negotiations over a cow, the buyer opening the cow´s lips to check her teeth and running his hands over her flanks. A too-large calf sucked at his mother's udders despite her side-stepping protest. Two burros and three horses stood at the edge of the cow market. At the farthest edge of the market stalls offered food, benches and tarp roofs against the morning´s persistant drizzle. Simmering pots held cow innards, lungs and testicles. The smoke from grilling meats drifted over me as I ducked an umbrella seller. Below a loud speaker extolled the virtues of a colon cleanse and proclaimed the latest treatements for prostate health.
We followed the crowds back to the center of town and the burgeoning Saturday market.
No comments:
Post a Comment