In the actual market building, I got stopped at the entrance and told that I needed to have a porter. What? All foreigners need to have a porter showing them around. I am not paying a porter. It’s free. Why do I need to have a porter? You have to have a porter. The big sign on the wall confirmed what the man said so finally, sigh, ok, who is my porter?

The porter walked me around a corner of the market. When it became clear that I wasn’t going to be buying large bags of spices at the stands he took me to, he deserted me. The market was ok, but I felt a little weird wandering around while people were running their errands, sort of like a Japanese tourist wandering around Safeway or Stop and Shop taking pictures of cashiers and poking at the bread. So I didn’t delve. I also left because I wanted to make sure I avoided the animal end of the market, which would not have been pretty. I can’t buy all of the scared looking animals and give them a good home; sadly, they will not fit in my luggage. So I looked around briefly, bought a few mangoes, and fled the weird and inhospitable market.

My guidebook said that there were tin pot sellers down one of the streets off of the market, so I walked down that way for a while looking for them. I thought it might be fun to get a few tin plates and bowls. But all I found were clothing stores. Oh well.