Thoughts of a Storyteller

I am not a blogger. Anyone who knows me will tell you that. But I do consider myself somewhat of a storyteller. And anyone who knows me will definitely agree with that. Most times, I have a story for almost every situation or group of people. My mind tends to remember a lot of details that get lost in the translation. So here's to hoping this will be more of a collection of stories in this new chapter of my life.

Already, in my first three weeks here in Wuxi, I have experienced so much and could write on any number of things, but there's one thing that has really jumped out this past week: the Market. I have been to the Market 3 times this week for dinner or just passing through on my way home and it fascinates me. First of all, the food is incredibly affordable (an entire dinner for less than a dollar!). The fruit is fresh, and the bread is baked right there on the spot. The boutsa, rolls filled with different things, are warm and filling. The chicken is friend with a very different seasoning that seems like it should be spicy, but has a sweet flavor as well.

But it's not just the tastes, because all 5 senses are active in the market. The smells are interesting. You can occasionally smell the sun soaked-waste in the canal, but when you enter the Market, it is lost in the smells there. The smell of food, the smell of fragrances, the smells of certain stores; it's wonderful to experience. The sights are very intriguing! I will see one booth where they will take food off of a pan and cook it in a skillet right in front of you, one booth has 15 bowls of ingredients you choose to have mixed for a salad, and one booth makes rolls with either meat, noodles, or veggies cooked inside of them.

As far as touching goes, I'm out of my bubble here. In America, everything has to meet up to certain cleanliness standards but, in the Market, it's all about efficiency in delivering the product. That's not to say my food is dirty, but their stands are right out on the dirt road, and they make sure that the food is the best they can make. That is their number one concern.Finally, there's the sounds. I am slowly picking up words as I notice what people are indicating, or as I am interacting with the Chinese, but it's a very frustrating process. Other than the language, there's the constant sizzling of food being cooked, or the whoosh of a fresh batch of boutsa (see the description of rolls above) being whisked out onto the table.

There's no way to call the Market anything less than an experience. And it's just one of a hundred experiences I have already been through in the past 3 weeks.

These are my stories...