Traditional Market

When I still lived in Holland, one of many things I missed about Indonesia was its traditional markets. A traditional market is a building in which people rent or own a counter for their stuff. Those who have less money and cannot afford to pay the rent, they are still allowed to sell paying just a little to the authority. The spot is outside the building, they put their stuff on the ground covered with the mat. Mostly they just stay through morning until noon, then they had to go. They have limited time to sell than other vendors inside the building.


I grew up in a time when supermarkets were rare and just for rich people since the price is higher than in traditional markets. Of course, it’s because they have to pay the price for the convenience as well which is included in the items sold while in traditional markets, the price is not fixed, you can bargain. It is the main reason why my mom prefers to shop at the traditional market until today. I remember when I was little, about 6 or 7 years old, my mom took me there. She talked to many people, buyers and vendors, she seemed to know everyone. The worst thing for me was when she had to buy fish or meat. The meat section was actually ok but it was close to the fish section which was very smelly. I always felt the need to throw up every time I was there. To avoid the problem with the people around especially the vendors, my mom let me wait at the vegetable area or other counters, then she went alone to buy meat or fish and came back to pick me up.

Then the tradition goes on. Once I took my daughter, Pelangi, to a traditional market. When we were just at the entrance, she was about to throw up. A couple of years later, my helper took my two kids also to a traditional market. It was the first time for Anugerah, my son. Do you know what happened? Yes, the smell of the market made him wanting to throw up as well. Like daughter, like son, like mother. Fruits indeed never fall far away from its tree.


Now we live In Indonesia, I still like to go to the traditional markets. Most of the stuff is cheaper and fresher but most of all, I like is the atmosphere. In such a market where many people sell same stuffs, it is easy to buy things from the same vendors. In two traditional markets in Malang, Pasar Besar (Big market) and Oro Oro Dowo, I also know some vendors and they know which day I usually come. If I come at different day or time they will say, “I miss you yesterday” or “Oh, you’re late!” They see a lot of people but they still recognize me and they also know what kind of stuff I mostly buy from them. It amazes me, they have that attention while their stuffs are still left many yet no buyers. They have to race with the time because they cannot sell the same items for the next day. The later the day the less people come.

There is one thing that I found so amused. In Pasar Besar there are some ladies from whom I often buy vegetables and chicken, who call me “dear”. They might also say it to all of their clients I guess, but it is always comforting to me every time they call me this way but of course I don’t expect the same way from the salesmen. I remember one day I went there with so many things in my mind. At the market I heard them calling me dear. They were happy to see me. It really made my day. I knew they expect me to buy a lot from them, but I also knew that they don’t just think about money, I can prove it to you.

One day I was in hurry to go there, I haven’t had my breakfast yet. It was windy and I wore a shirt and sweater. Inside the market was hot and humid. I wasn’t feeling well. I began to sweat and felt the pain in my whole body. I felt dizzy and hard to walk. One of the vegetable ladies whom I know looked worried to see me and said that I looked pale. I couldn’t stand any longer so she gave me a place to sit. I felt worse. She ordered a glass of warm tea with a lot of sugar for me and she started to massage my head. After a while I felt a little better and decided to just go back home. The lady helped me bring my basket to my car. What a trait! She preferred to bring my stuffs rather than watching her own stuffs. She might miss the buyers, but again other vendors would help her to keep an eye on them.

In the car, being too weak to drive, I called a good friend to send her driver to drive my car back home.

Since then my respect for those sales ladies in the market was growing. They might look ordinary but their heart is extra ordinary. I always think about them every time I see a traditional market. I believe that they are the angels in disguise.