If you are following my blogs you will know that a few years back I carried out some volunteer work in Zimbabwe for 3 months. Whilst there I kept a diary of my thoughts and experiences and thought I would share this experience with you. Unfortunately I didn’t manage to get any photos of the market whilst I was there so imaginations all the way!
Clambering out of the kombi (a kind of minibus taxi but a lot more fun!) we were greeted by the buzzing sound of hundreds of people behind us in the market. As we walked over the wind blew dust and sand into our faces as bags rustled and blew all around us. As we looked around we were surrounded by wooden stalls, some straight and uprights, others leaning one way or the other, people bending their way through the small gaps in between each one.
Piles and piles of shoes met out eyes, traders picking out ones they believe we may like in the hope that we would buy them. Venturing further in, the sights changed to heaps of clothing, some upon wooden tables, others dumped upon bamboo mats on the floor.
Our ears were filled with traders shouting prices, their efforts to try and attract us to their stalls. All around us women were raking their at through the mountains of clothing, tossing them here and there and using their strength to turn the piles of clothes over.
In the maze of narrow aisles people carefully pushed past each other in the attempt to get to where they want to be. Whispers pass through the stalls of items we have been looking at, traders holding up similar items to these to try and draw us in. What a crazy place!