This is not a story about fish. It’s more about toilets, but we will get to that.
It’s true that the kids are overwhelmed by the fish.
Loch, who is five, is fascinated by all the rows of multi-colored dead fish on ice. He is exuberant about the live blue crabs which keep waving their legs in the air while trying to crawl out of their tub. Most of all he is mesmerized by the live lobsters and various swimming fish in tanks, waiting to be plucked for someone’s dinner.
Nine-year-old Lexi is impressed by all the severed fish heads with their frantic bulging eyes and festive teeth, while in another long case I am disconcerted by by all the animal parts. Tripe, brains, knuckles, tongues, stomachs, spleens and splintered bones are laid out in haphazard ways.
I gulp and feel suddenly intrigued by vegetarianism. The animal parts strewn about have made me, a Primitive Meat Eater, go kind of glinzty.
Aside from the fish and the bloody animal piles, there is lots of other stuff, foreign to our American eyes.
Row by row with our rolling cart, we all wander and look at unusual products.
I toss fish powders and some seaweed soup mixes into the basket.
We get a few fresh but unknown vegetables that we won’t know what to do with when we get home with them.
The store is dirty.
The kids are excited and curious as we wind our way up and down the aisles between fire crackers and bags of various dried mushrooms and jars of fish paste.
Then he begins (and won’t stop singing) Hanuaka songs in a loud voice…and we are not Jewish.
The store is dirty and packed with people and suddenly I have to pee. (more…)