“Walk” to the “Market”

The day we were planning to clear out we decided to venture into the main town to check out the Friday vegetable market on the other side of the island. Tim and I set out quite early, walking along the road, hopeful that someone would stop and offer us a lift. The people that we passed along the way were all very nice, and they all wanted to give us stuff. I had a bag full of kasava and papaya before we ever got anywhere near the market

However, after walking for about 30-40 minutes, we were still hoping for that ride. Then we came across a couple with a teenage son waiting by the side of the road. They were Bula and Betty and their teenage grandson. Bula and Betty were dressed up to go to some traditional celebration, and I think their grandson was just hanging out with them. They were waiting for the transport truck to come by to give them a ride and they invited us to get a ride with them; they were certain we could get a lift to the town. We quickly accepted that offer, so we stayed with them chatting for awhile. And then a little while longer. And then longer still. They didn’t seem concerned or irritated at how long it was taking for the transport to come, so I tried not to be either. Finally, it arrived, but it was going the opposite direction, back the way we came. They motioned us in anyway assuring that we’d have a way to get to the main village with the market. So, we piled in.

The transport was a big pickup truck with a covered bed, and there were already 15 or so people in the back, mostly women, and all dressed up for the occasion. I sat next to a woman who was clearly part of the upper class, judging by her manicured nails, her shoes, and her jewelry. She was talkative, and her English was excellent, so she was obviously well educated as well. Soon she was telling me that “I needed to tell my husband to come down from there. Doesn’t he know the condition of these roads?!” I realized that Tim was standing up at the open back end of the truck almost leaning out the back while holding on to a rail at the top. Clearly, he was trying to have a good look around as we drove along. At first I just smiled and ignored her, trying to pass her comment off as a joke. But she kept after me, and so finally I told her there’s no way he would listen to me even if I did say something. She was clearly a little disappointed in my unwillingness or inability to control my husband.

When we arrived at the location of the party, Bula helped us arrange another ride to the town, which was now about as far away as you can get from somewhere on this island. We took the north way around, so in the end we got to see the entire island in all its beauty. When we got to the village we went straight to the biosecurity office, because it was getting somewhat late and we didn’t want to miss them if they went to the wharf to clear us out. It turned out they were just getting ready to leave, so we hopped in their car with them and got a ride back to the wharf.

We never did make it to the market.