I am writing about the Tunisian market. We go to the market every few days to buy food. Friday is the biggest market day. The market is less than a mile from our home. Sometimes we walk there and sometimes we take a taxi. Sometimes we go with our guide or language teacher. People in the market speak Arabic and French.

From The Big Field Trip – Tunisia, March, 2009

Thunk! A butcher wearing a bloody apron hits a rabbit with a knife. Hungry cats, skinny as sticks, meow because they smell fresh fish. Rats scurry under feet looking for green olives that have rolled on to the ground. People yell out what they are selling.  “Potatoes!” “Tomatoes!” they yell in Arabic. Juicy oranges are handed out and silver Dinars are taken in. People lower their price to make a good deal. A little boy looks at a toy bus that is on a table covered with stuffed animals and plastic trucks. His sister stares at a little doll. Clothes are piled on tables. In front of a pet store birds chirp and puppies howl from behind metal bars. Horses pull carts filled with fennel. Ladies look through a pile of leather purses. Men look at a load of clean and new pairs of black and blue jeans. An old woman carries groceries home, helped by her grandson.

From The Big Field Trip – Tunisia, March, 2009

From The Big Field Trip – Tunisia, March, 2009