I love going to the Brazilian Farmer's Market,or feira, first thing on Friday morning. I always arrive right at the beginning, as the last pieces of fish are being laid out for display.
There's a calm to the early morning feira. The workers are chatting amongst themselves and laughing as they help each other tie tarps up over their produce. It's pleasant out at the moment but the sun will not be so forgiving in a few hours.
The entire street smells fresh. This is amazing seeing that this particular street normally has a strong smell of urine. Somehow the clean leafy greens, fresh seafood, and newly cut watermelon cover up the nasty.
I like to stroll along with my boys, letting them point out and lightly touch the fruit. The vendors encourage it and offer them samples of fruit that I can't even name in English. One boy always says no and they other always says yes.
And then we start to buy. My vegetable man calls me dear and shows me the American broccoli. My fish guy already knows which cuts my kids like and he gives me a little discount. My chicken person asks how my in-laws are doing, by name, as she was their chicken person when they lived in the city. My fruit man laughs when my youngest grabs a berry and offers him another.
We top off our early trip to the feira with a visit to the pastel stand. My two boys walk home happily eating a cheese pastel half the size of their heads.
A lovely way to start a Friday.