Sunday Market: A Photo Essay

On the lighter side, internet connection permitting, here is an attempted photo-essay/ short-story-with-pictures about a Sunday Market in Lagos:

Inside the banana leaves (basket, top left), there's some sort of rice-meat mixture
.... I hear its tasty... 

Red bell peppers and tomatoes as far as the eye can see

Some of the many Large African Land Snail* baskets at the market
(*might not be their scientific name). Once sold, these poor, cute little guys are shucked (like oysters) and sold ... to be eaten...(if that wasn't clear.)

A Large African Land Snail* (*still not sure if this is the scientific name)
makes a break for it. Go, little guy, go!... Too bad snails aren't known for
their speed.

Christine befriends the escape artist... simultaneously proving how BIG the
Large African Land Snail* really is (*maybe I'll just re-name the species)

Its not lettuce, its not spinach, and its not kale... It IS, however, a leafy-green
substance used for cooking in some Nigerian dishes. I think it comes from a tree.

These disgusting, putrid things are one of the key ingredients of draw soup.
As I predicted, they ARE fish that have been left in the sun all day (I have no
idea why they're arranged eating their own tails.. must be a tradition).
Still not sure if cooking involves sewage but you never know.

The market butcher dissects (what I'm told is) a cow. How many internal organs
can YOU identify?

These lovely red nuts/seeds are pressed to make palm oil which is a staple
for cooking most Nigerian food. (I'm also told its high in cholesterol, FYI.)

In amongst the multiple bunches of plantains, countless baskets
of snails, and stacks of putrid, coiled fish, behold the one woman in the entire
market smart enough to diversify and sell shrimp. 

As the above photos indicate, a Sunday Market is a colorful, vibrant place. It is also the kind of place where people get really up close and personal with their food. Although I am by no means converting to vegetarianism, it is a difficult thing for an American to watch "dinner" being chosen (alive) and then hacked to death (almost dead) before being dismembered (definitely dead) and given to you in a plastic bag. The hardest thing for me was watching the poor rooster meet its sad end. I swear to you, it cried out for help. Of course, the vendors (most of them women) were very amused at my fear/disgust/sympathy for the rooster and asked us where we thought our food came from. As Christine so aptly put it:


"We're Americans. I know where our food comes from... it comes packaged in plastic."

After our market adventure, Mrs. "L" (our Nigerian "mom"/ friend) took us back to her house and showed us how to prepare, cook, and...eventually...eat snails (of the Large, African Land variety). I wouldn't call it my favorite dish, but it wasn't the worse thing ever. A little tough to chew... Certainly better than draw soup. I'm told they're good for lowering blood pressure. I guess the debate then becomes: "Which is easier to swallow: a giant blood pressure pill (western medicine style) or a Large (rubbery) African Land Snail?"

Maybe my Grandma will be game enough to test it out and let us know..... :)