Souley

The car was full of the scent of freshly-baked baguettes as we made our way from the bakery to our last stop of the day. Heading into the indigenous grain market, we were looking for wheat for making whole wheat flour. Danny stood by the parked car while teammate Kari Downer and I crossed the street to ask. We were sent to several boutiques before we met a young man who signaled us to follow him into a nearby boutique. We went in the front door, then out the back door into another world.

The market here was shaded and uncrowded. Our guide led us to an older man who had displayed bags of grain on his table. This man spoke to our guide, and they both led us deeper in to this strange, “unsafe” market. Kari and I exchanged glances that asked, “Where are they leading us?” “Not too sure about this…” We passed by neat boutiques with similar products as the “tame” market, but more organized and with more variety. I had just bought a coin purse at Nziko, and was passing much nicer looking ones in this aisle.

It was peaceful and cool as we walked through, and there weren’t any puddles. As we walked deeper in, concerned that Danny may be worried by our disappearance, and after stopping at several places to no avail, I told our guide that we would have to come back another day. Actually, I wasn’t confident these guys were honest. He smiled and said, “We’ll find what you’re looking for.”

Finally, we stopped at the table of an old woman who had grain to sell. Her wares were a mélange of grains, only a few of which I recognized. Only then were we asked how much we wanted. When we each said we wanted a few small bowls only, our guides looked at each other and laughed. The older man could have given us what we needed, but thought we wanted a large quantity.

It was fun to witness the friendly banter between the old lady, our guides, and the neighboring vendors as they advised her that the currency I gave her was still good even though worn. Accepting their verdict, she smiled at me as if I were her friend now, too, and of course, tried to interest me in her other products. Then we returned to the older guide’s stall for Kari to buy her wheat. That way, they both earned a little. In a fatherly tone, he counseled me to be sure to tip the younger guide, (customary tip—20 cents), who led us back through the maze to the door of his boutique again.

He crossed the street with us and greeted a relieved Danny with a handshake. I asked him his name, and he told me that he would be happy to help me any time I need something at the market. I’ll be seeing Souley again, and am grateful for his hospitality as we visited his turf.


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