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Other
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Marketing
Having just returned from the morning market with my grandmother, I immediately wash my hands and elbow area. Why? I'll tell you why in a while.
Going there always reminds me of the one time (probably) that I followed my mother there. People were looking at me strangely as I glided pass them with a square plastic basket on one hand, and my grandmother's hand on the other; as though I seduced a 70 year old or something. Perhaps it was the blue "celebrate life" band I had on my left wrist that caught their eye.
First was the pork area. This is where they sell the pork because it has to be separated from the other meats since it is after all, pork. It would probably feel like contamination to have it near the other meats section for the Malay.
There seems to be an overwhelming volume of men with tattoos in the pork section, which I find curious. They operate with cleavers. Apparently, really-really sharp knives are usually accompanied by a big guy with a tattoo and a sleeveless shirt, or sometimes with no shirt at all. They are very skilled with a blade, as I observed minute chunks of meat fall nearby my feet when they slice and dice.
Coincidentally, a lady dropped her broccoli next to my foot. She picked it up and weighed it as though that never happened. She's probably a mother of four and hates her kids because it's worse enough that kids don't like broccoli (as seen on TV), but they have to eat one that has been on a market floor.
Oh! Yes. Why I washed my hands immediately aside from the reason that I'm anal and prefer to keep my arms clean: My grandmother and I went into the ikan area of the market. She was looking at the fishies, copping a feel, and weighing them. The stall has this little basin of water and lemon where you can wash your hands, and I don't think my grandmother washed hers too well. Immediately after buying fish, she grabs my arm with the same hand used for fish.
I sensed something amiss almost immediately as she grasped my arm! The fish! Yerrrr (hehehe). Before that, I was watching the lady debone a fish; I said that she made the deboning look so easily done, and that I should learn how. With my passing comment sent, my grandmother had to say that it would be good to learn if I can't earn a living and/or find a job.
Hot days pass as I learn to keep my mouth shut with no success.
Going there always reminds me of the one time (probably) that I followed my mother there. People were looking at me strangely as I glided pass them with a square plastic basket on one hand, and my grandmother's hand on the other; as though I seduced a 70 year old or something. Perhaps it was the blue "celebrate life" band I had on my left wrist that caught their eye.
First was the pork area. This is where they sell the pork because it has to be separated from the other meats since it is after all, pork. It would probably feel like contamination to have it near the other meats section for the Malay.
There seems to be an overwhelming volume of men with tattoos in the pork section, which I find curious. They operate with cleavers. Apparently, really-really sharp knives are usually accompanied by a big guy with a tattoo and a sleeveless shirt, or sometimes with no shirt at all. They are very skilled with a blade, as I observed minute chunks of meat fall nearby my feet when they slice and dice.
Coincidentally, a lady dropped her broccoli next to my foot. She picked it up and weighed it as though that never happened. She's probably a mother of four and hates her kids because it's worse enough that kids don't like broccoli (as seen on TV), but they have to eat one that has been on a market floor.
Oh! Yes. Why I washed my hands immediately aside from the reason that I'm anal and prefer to keep my arms clean: My grandmother and I went into the ikan area of the market. She was looking at the fishies, copping a feel, and weighing them. The stall has this little basin of water and lemon where you can wash your hands, and I don't think my grandmother washed hers too well. Immediately after buying fish, she grabs my arm with the same hand used for fish.
I sensed something amiss almost immediately as she grasped my arm! The fish! Yerrrr (hehehe). Before that, I was watching the lady debone a fish; I said that she made the deboning look so easily done, and that I should learn how. With my passing comment sent, my grandmother had to say that it would be good to learn if I can't earn a living and/or find a job.
Hot days pass as I learn to keep my mouth shut with no success.
Published by: YSCHAN # 9/06/2005 08:56:00 am 