Granada seems to be perpetually find itself on any list of must-see destinations in Central America. The city itself is no more than 90,000 people, yet it bustles like any other. Today, a few of us traveling in the same general direction decided to venture to the near-by artisan town of Masaya to do some crafts shopping at the central market. Like most places in the third world, the trip there is an adventure itself as twice the capacity of people are crammed into a tiny minibus; the driver’s duty is to not get us killed, while the attendant runs from the vehicle to the roadside helping people on and off, the remainder of the time his body is protruding half way out the window as he yells “Masaya, Masaya, Masaya…” as everyone drips in sweat on the interior oven.
From where the bus dropped us, it was an easy 20 minute walk across a field of trash to reach the market. The market itself is much like the central open market in Thailand, except smaller by some measure. Despite the immense heat and humidity, the vendors ply their trade with welcoming smiles as they fan themselves. Other people, too poor to have their own shops, set up stalls on the main concourse selling foodstuffs and water packaged in plastic wraps (and their is a lot of plastic). It’s not difficult to see the severity of the poverty here – one can only imagine how bad it can be in some of the more remote regions. Even the horses stopped by the road show tremendous signs of wear and age; most of them have their heads completely dipped in the swelter, showing multiple open sores on their skins flocked with flies. It’s hard not to feel sympathy for the suffering animals here; but such is life in these parts and people busy themselves around it.
Inside the market, it’s a colorful scene throbbing with energy and commotion. Prices here are almost rock-bottem for all sorts of local crafts. After some hard bargaining, I bought a hammock for $8. 