Market Day in Loitokitok

Most days Loitokitok is a relatively quiet village with sounds of bleating goats, crowing roosters, and gurgling motorbikes (called piky-piky's) that wash everything in their path with a layer of sepia toned dirt.  But come Saturday the place explodes with bright colors and the calls of vendors. Karibu! This was the welcome that greeted me one stifling Saturday back in June when I first arrived here as a new Peace Corps trainee. Only then I felt overwhelmed by the heat, dust, smells, and the chaotic atmosphere of hundreds of dark-skinned strangers in exotic garb peddling their wares.

But now, even after returning from 10 exciting days of training in Taveta on Mombasa on the coast (more on that in my next few posts), I was happy to get back in time to catch the Saturday market and check out Mua's lovely scarves and Robert's football-sized avocados, not to mention replenishing my supply of toilet paper and laundry soap from one of the other vendors that line the main road in town. How things have changed. Now I'm actually a resident here. 

Sundays are a wholly different matter, if you'll excuse the pun. Gone are the fine fabrics and local legumes, and the stalls are empty.  So is the rest of town. Aside from the gospel songs, music, and prayer that ring out at morning, all is quiet except for the Muslim owned supermarket and the lone internet cave that's open even on Sundays for wazungus like me.