I've been living in the United States for almost as long as I lived in the Caribbean. I find that many of the things I enjoyed about growing up are starting to fade from memory. Here there are no cues to draw up the memories. So I log them before they are forever lost.
I want to start with market day with Dad. These were special mornings, filled with colorful sights, vibrant sounds, and the rich scents of so many vegetables and produce from the land that vendors from all over the country came to sell. Looking back, those simple outings were some of my most cherished childhood memories, a shared tradition that taught me more than I ever realized at the time.
Early Morning Adventures
The early mornings had their own magic—the streets were quieter, the sunlight soft, and the air crisp. I would carry the empty market bags that we would eventually fill with vegetables and, if I was lucky, some fresh blue crabs.
Entering the Market: A World of Color and Sound
Arriving at the market was like stepping into a kaleidoscope. Everywhere I looked, there were fruits and vegetables in every shade: plump purple eggplants, golden papayas, and deep green bundles of callaloo. My dad would walk from stall to stall, examining the produce and asking prices. I'd follow closely behind, ready to help if he needed me to carry something or hand him a bag.
It was a sort of overwhelming place. I couldn't make sense of the people. There were so many and I didn't understand them. They would look at me and I would look back. Some would smile, others looked irritated. It was confusing for sure. But my dad was there and everything was going to be fine so I pushed along behind him.
I remember marveling at the towering piles of bananas, the big, juicy watermelons, and the occasional spiky soursop that looked so strange but tasted so sweet. Dad had a way of making each fruit feel like a treasure, a prize we just won for good bargaining.
Lessons in Bargaining: Dad’s Market Magic
One of my favorite parts of these market trips was watching Dad work his bargaining magic. It was very serious business. He would examine the produce carefully and ask the price. With some unknown logic, he would decide between the produce from one vendor or another. I never really knew what made a good sale over another. My dad was as much a mystery to me as the people in the market.
The Fish Market: A Different Kind of Adventure
Toward the end of our market rounds, we’d reach the fish market, a distinct area filled with its own unique energy and unmistakable scent. This was my favorite part of the market. I loved the smell of fish. I loved watching the fish market women gut, clean, and scale the fish with incredible efficiency. It left an important impression on my psyche and would appear later in life. The fish market was always crowded, with fishermen showing off their morning catches—shimmering parrotfish, silver-scaled kingfish, and if I was lucky, my dad would find someone selling the juiciest looking barracuda. Grouper of course being my second favorite fish to eat.
Discovering Caribbean Flavors Together
The market wasn’t just a place to buy food—it was a place where my dad and I spent time together, doing important stuff. He was making decisions about what to feed our family and he was very good at it.
We would get so many fruits: mangoes, guavas, sugar apples. And more boring things like dasheen bush, carrots, cucumbers, and casava. Fish and blue crab were the most exciting. I'd make sure he didn't forget to get crab.
A Market Legacy
From so deep within the flow of time it is difficult to remember all of the details. I'm sure there are some significant experiences I wish I could recall but they are lost. I have what I have. And what I have is a dad that cared in his way. A flawed person, as I am. A person who tried, as I do.
I miss him and I miss my memories of him. I look back with gratitude for those mornings. When I find myself in this American suburb, I wish I could close my eyes and remember the hum of the market, the smell of ripe fruit, and the sound of Dad’s voice bargaining with a familiar vendor.
