Monday, January 10, 2011

The Market Man and Me


Rushing cars, loud salesman, coulped with the allure of what's next had me turning every corner. My eyes rushed at the many colors and attractions, in some way it was like a Circus attempting to entertain while still serving its purpose.

The market had everything from bags to clothes, shoes, trinkets, scarfs, art and food. You heard, "buy buy buy," from the left side to the right and even the pan handlers walking through the center were overly aggresive.

But as I approached one stand I knew they had something just for me. A dark brown leather bag. But as I showed my classmates my new item of the year, a India saleman tapped me twice and said "move move." I thought to myself "well I don't think we were standing too close to his stand, were he can't attract customers."

My classmates saw something and felt something I didn't, he thought I was a pan handler trying to sale them my bag, my bag that I just bought. He thought I was one of the African men pan handeling to my white American classmates. The market man showed me that even though I wear european influenced clothing, speak english and live as a black american, I am of true African decent.

No comments:

Post a Comment