In a posh section of Bogota, a flea market is held on Sundays. To call it a flea market is a little misleading, it is colorful; it is bustling, and it offers everything from street singers to outdoor vendors selling antiques, crafts, arts, and food. The market is held in small streets surrounding Parque de Usaquen.
The bus system delivered us within steps of the Usaquen Sunday Market. Stan did not choose this outing; I did. I always look for street markets wherever we travel. He was not exactly engaged with the scene but soon got into it. We looked at hats, and crafts, and thought about buying a roasted ear of corn but did not. I was hoping for a vendor grilling pollo or cerdo on a stick for a light lunch but none were there that day.
Behind all the street vendors, the streets are lined with fancy restaurants, boutiques and shops. Some restaurants had very long lines of people waiting – those must have been the really good ones. After we strolled all the streets and watched various musicians, we popped into a cute coffee bar where very pleasant music was being played. It was a nice break from all the activity just outside the door. We ordered pizza and a Stella. At the table next to us sat two Spanish-speaking ladies who were sharing luscious-looking desserts, possibly an ice cream drink with chocolate, coffee, and whipped cream and what appeared to be rich carrot cake. I am a people watcher. I enjoyed their interactions. Stan was paying our check when the two ladies prepared to leave, they smiled at me and greeted me with “Buenas tardes.” In my elementary Spanish, I said hello and asked if they were sisters. Their faces lighted up and they both said yes. I asked if they were celebrating a birthday. No, they were celebrating one sister’s visit from the USA – Fort Meyers. Our meeting was a bight spot in their day and also in mine.
Earlier when we first entered the market, I spied something wonderful that I thought might be just right for a gift to celebrate the birth of William Reece Ackmann, our new great-nephew in Arkansas. I held it and examined it carefully but didn’t buy it. Somehow though I could not get it off my mind. Stan and I kept thinking about it and talking about it. We decided we must have it. As we left the café, rain began to fall. Vendors busily packed up their goods. Predictably, the man whose table had our now treasured gift was at the very entrance to the market. We wove our way through the crowds and ceilings of umbrellas.
Happy day! His things were getting a little wet but he was still there! I got that gift and I hope it is loved.
