Work Text:
A Day At The Flea Market
by Jim Nasium
It has been many years now since I have seen the wonder of them, and the wonder of the beautiful land, the mountains and valleys that they came from. It has been far too long since I walked in the fog of the highlands, and the heat of the valleys, of the mountains that they call home. Often I have remembered those day gone by me now, the golden days of my youth with much joy...
Sometimes still I dream of them when I am sleeping,
sometimes I dream of them when I am awake...
Since I haven't been doing too much traveling lately, I spend a lot of my time at the local flea markets. I get up really early and drive to local flea markets and I always try to get there first too... I like to watch the folks spread out their goods and set up their tabels and it seems I can always get a much better deal if I am among the first folks there, for some reason.
The other day, while at the local flea market, I was overwhelmed with the site of them. I couldn't believe my eyes at first... I had been there, to this local flea market many times before this morning's visit, but never before have I seen them there...
What were they doing here?
They were gather there, off to one side of the market, the three of them, standing behind their little wooden table, all dressed in their native garb. They wore their short white pants and long sleeved hand made white shirts, and covered themselves with great woolen poncho's that had collar's on them, the only poncho's I have ever seen with collar's anywhere during my travles in The Andea... They wore the native little hats and all had long pony tails, and their long pony tails were wrapped in white heart red glass beads and were tucked inside of the back of the poncho, as if to protect the beads their hair was wrapped in from thief's...
ya know there are many thief's in The Andes, Of Ecuador.
I walked up to the three of them and said, " Hi, how are you, what'a you's doin' here, ya know I know where you come from, I have been there, I have been to the land you came from, many times", They just stood there and looked at me, silently, and so I went on to tell them of my friend Louis, and his wife, Maria, who tend a flock of llama near Otavalo, and sell wool in the town they came from... now they were looking at me as if I was crazy, and one of them reached back, behind him to be sure that he had his pony tails tucked in his poncho's so I wouldn't steal the white heart red glass beads that held his long hair together... I guess.
When I went on to tell them all about my friend Patty Castro, who owned a small cafe one block from the movie theater, next to Hotel Rivera, on that side street that lead to the big market, the only market that stayed open for 4 days a week and was closed for three ays, then
they knew I had been to their town and I could see their faces relax... the one that had checked to be sure his pony tail was tucked in his poncho looked at me and smiled, and as he did he bent over in such a manner as to let his pony tail fall from the poncho he had tucked it in so carefully just a few minutes ago.
I knew they were ready to do some busies now...
Another one of the indian's took his long pony tail from the back of his poncho and asked me if I wanted to buy some beads, as he showed me the ones he used to tie his hair together with. He started to show me the poncho's he brought from Otavolo with him, and the other man showed me his shirts and sweaters... Belts and hats came out'a boxes that were on the table and we started talking and dealing and talking and then, before Iknew it I had this great pile od stuff, that I wanted to buy, all spread out before me and all of a sudden it just felt late...ye, it felt late. It just all of a suden felt late to me so I looked down at my watch, and somehow, before I even knew it, three and a half hours had passed by, as if it were just a few minutes...
I stepped back and turned away from the three Indians to look behind me at the rest of the flea market, only to see that the flea market was closing down now. The folks were packing up, shutting down their tables and going home...
I had no idea of what had just happened to me, I was one of the first to get here this morning.... where had the time gone, I looked again at the flea market people closing up their booths and then when I turned around, to look back at the three indian's from Otavolo, that I had just been dealing and talking to, they were gone...
There was no sign of any Otavolian Indians ever being there..
Their table was gone..
all of their boxes of goods were gone,
all of the things that I had picked out to buy were gone...
They were gone...
I tell you it was as if I had entered some sort of time warp and somehow I was in Otavalo, Ecuador again, at the Big Market, just off the side street near patty Castro's Cafe, talking to the local market people, wheeling and dealing, just like I use to do, so many years ago, and not at the local flea market at all...
Was I ever at the local flea market this morning, or was this all just a dream I thought to myself as I drove home, from somwhere, very slowly, totaly confused...
©1999 Jim Nasium