My Local Market

Here's an odd bit about the local fruit and veg market near where I lived, unfinished.

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Every morning on the way to work, I’d pass by the local fruit and vegetable shop. It took a while to muster up the courage to actually buy anything from there as it looked like once of those places only regulars ever go to. I didn’t want to feel like I was invading some private unofficial club by attempting to purchase discounted fruit and vegetables. I guess the beauty of big soul-less supermarkets is that you are never in danger of feeling out of place.
This particular market was next to the local 7-11, about a minute’s walk from my apartment, and it was fantastic, offering everything at much lower prices than supermarkets offer. The rule of cheap huge supermarkets verses more expensive independent shops doesn’t seem to apply to Japan, although the price of a watermelon in either location is still around $25. Having asked and asked about why fruit is so expensive here, I’ve been met with as many answers as there are varieties of rice-dishes in this green and mountainous land. In fact, the mountainous landscape of Japan has been one such answer: the farmers have such little fertile flat land that they must charge hugely inflated prices to justify any farming at all. Another answer involved the Japanese desire to have their food look as good as it tastes; dirty looking apples, battered lemons and non-spherical oranges just won’t do. The fruit does indeed look better than any other fruit I’ve seen, a lot of it being individually wrapped with protective foam, which is nice, but I guess at the end of the day, I’ll just be eating it, rather than putting it on my mantle piece for visitors to comment how orange my oranges are or how perfectly hairy my kiwi fruit is. (Speaking of Kiwi fruit, don’t you think it’s strange how this is the only fruit in the English language which doesn’t have a name of its own, just a reference to its origin. I spend many a lonely night thinking up names for this poor forgotten fruit. How about “Hairy Fruit” or “Scoop fruit”?)
This market was one of those semi-outdoor/indoor types with the fresh stuff on display outside and a selection of what seemed to be anything you could possibly need (for a Japanese kitchen) inside. When I pass, I am usually running to catch the train, but on the rare occasions when I am not attempting to cover the course of a 7 minute walk in 2 minutes, I sometimes say ‘hello’ to one of the market assistants. I have been surprised to get a response in English from her sometimes, usually ‘good morning’. This one assistant was the only person who gave me definite eye-contact, thus inspiring me to actually offer some kind of pleasantry. She doesn’t look Japanese, her skin is darker and her face has sharper features, and she seems to be working for the owners of the market, rather than with, even though she appears to be approaching middle-age. The other workers looked typically Japanese, and there is one pretty girl, maybe about my age, who I always wonder about as I pass. She was probably the daughter of one of the market owners and I know it’s wrong to say, but she just looked too pretty to be working in a fruit and vegetable market. I’d never spoken to her of course.