Pettah Market, Colombo
Sunday 5th January 2020
Rennie and I decided that we’d visit Pettah market; open every day of the week since time immemorial but with mid-afternoon on Sunday probably the optimum time for a first visit. Uncrowded rather than absolutely heaving so possible to see, learn and explore, and hot and sticky rather than sweltering and uncomfortable under the midday sun.
The market is dominated by Muslim traders selling everything under that sun, and Tamil gold and jewellery shops. It reminded me of one of the souks in Kuwait City when I lived there from 1982 to 1984; Islamic, smells both pleasant and not-so all melding together in one giant potpourri, vibrant colours, trades largely grouped together, hawkers trying to tempt you with their wares, the heat, and grimy old buildings that are worked hard with no pause for cleaning or maintenance or thought for health and safety.
Alighting from a taxi opposite the distinctive Jami Ul-Alfar Mosque from 1909, a few minutes later we went in to one of the stores, Maliban Traders on Main Street, where we found a grubby three floors of bags, cases, and belts piled from floor to ceiling and even up the edges of the staircase. What we also found was politeness and genuine customer service from the staff; wanting a school trouser belt for Míša, his waist size fell between the longest child belt and the shortest adult one. No problem; the latter was shortened to fit within minutes by trimming and remaking the clasp end. The price of the belt was 450 Rupees (£1.90) and when Rennie asked the shopkeeper to keep the change from a 500 Rupee note, she was politely but firmly rebuffed and told that it is in their teaching to give service and not to seek reward.
We also found plentiful fresh produce on sale – fresher in fact than is often found in the supermarkets, and certainly cheaper. The oranges you can see in a couple of the photos were grown in Merissa in the South of the island, kept fresh at the stall with regular sprinkling of water, and absolutely bursting with juicy flavour. Fabulous, at seven pence each. Look carefully at the photo above of Rennie being given her change and you will see the stall-keeper touching his upper arm with the forefinger of his free hand. This is in lieu of handing over the money with two hands, and so still treating it with reverence.
Rennie found the filthiness off-putting and Míša the smells and sticky heat unpleasant, but kept himself going with the hope of landing a great deal for a specific new mobile telephone he’d like to replace his old one. He was out of luck on this occasion, and in any case I told him that the way to buy is with a local and not with Daddy stood next to him with a camera slung round his neck.
Pettah is a very safe place to be even as a white teenage girl – you just have to filter-out being stared at – and Emi was quickly Emi; confidently out shopping and happy to take the lead in to any store and ask for what she wanted with a smile.
I will be back on a week-day in time for when the market opens and comes to life; soft lighting, and camera in hand to shoot the noisy hustle and bustle. I look forwards to this as I saw some great photographic opportunities today but where I needed morning rather than afternoon sun to avoid shadow.
Steve