Suva Market

We often talk about atmosphere and ambience in rarified terms: 
a highfalutin restaurant, 
a fancy home, 
a five-star resort on Denarau.

But what of that which exists naturally, and in spades. 
That which you can not replicate?
The thought crossed my mind early Saturday morning as I meandered through Suva Market, not so much to shop but to take in the sights and sounds. The early morning air was cool, the drunks were out, the early birds had come armed with shopping bags while I played tourist in my hometown.

There’s something to be said for this shift in perspective.
When your purpose isn’t perfunctionary: the quick in and out, the buy and sell, the search for the best priced ingredients; the old market becomes new. It becomes a place to engage with, to discover, to explore.

I loved seeing the joy and humour in the women who’d set up outside, selling a mix of different things neatly laid out from ivi and laialaia to fish, cockles and octopus. Their spirit said nothing of their early morning start. It spoke little of the long day ahead in the sun. There was silence about any form of hardship. The only complaints you heard from them was none.

I sought these women out (and it was the women and not the men) whose laughter – no kaila – expressed their unbridled joy. It was like getting a hug without being touched. Their spirit was infectious and I caught the bug.
…