Wet Markets are Wet Indeed

On Saturday morning, I awoke very tired from the late but awesome night a big group of us had the night before. Although I was a bit drained along with many of my friends, we headed out for our Wet Market excursion that Fulbright organized for us. We had Malaysian individuals around our age guide each of our groups, which consisted of four to five people.

We departed from our hotel, and headed on our way. After a half hour walk, the environment changed from big buildings to older, less maintained buildings with clothing lines hosting clothes and rags, as well as some shoes. As I looked up, windows of the apartment buildings opened up to Malaysian people going about their Saturday morning routine. As I looked ahead, the vast number of tents, stalls and stands overwhelmed me with people summoning us to come in and try foods or purchase items.

There were big blue bins with live fish swimming around, cages with chickens, durian (yes, durian again- It is the King of Fruits) and thousands of fruits, some familiar and others far less familiar. As we continued down the street, we left the streets with cars and apartment buildings, and squeezed our bodies in as we entered an absolutely enormous covered tent area. It was like the department store of food markets. Somewhat dilapidated umbrellas and tarps of many colors covered the entire, mass area. As I squeezed between the many avid Saturday wet market shoppers headed in the traffic opposite of me, I looked to my left and saw an endless amount of market workers cutting meat with big knifes, bagging vegetables, pouring juice, catching fish out of buckets, wrapping items and shouting things back and forth to co-workers in Bahasa Malaysia (none of which I understood).

Similar to the way I explained China Town; to say it was mass chaos is to put it lightly. However, I say that with the most sincere sense of fascination and admiration. I have no idea how these markets are managed and how they stay sane or organized enough to serve the thousands of shoppers every Saturday.

To be honest, I was too intimidated initially to purchase any fruit or foods. I simply stayed focus on hunching down a little, holding my purse tight, squeezing in my shoulders close to my midline and keeping track of my group member, David who was making a trail for me through the market crowds, as Julie and Morgan followed behind.

I was overwhelmed as I tried to take in all the scents, the colors, the people and the foods. Meanwhile, my feet stomped through the puddles lingering in the holes in the concrete. There was literally water everywhere.  I quickly realized it was from the stall owners watering their fruits and vegetables, refilling fish buckets and wiping down their meat cutting tables. I finally got a moment to stop and watch as water dripped off a vendor table onto the pavement.

As I walked, I was intrigued as I came to a stand with chickens chirping and calking very loudly. I was very puzzled. Do people buy these chickens to keep at home? Then, I realized what the chickens were for. This was not any pre-packaged chicken breast that I merely could throw on a George Forman like I did it college. No. This was fresh chicken. I watched as a buyer summoned to the stall owner that she wanted “satu” chicken. One chicken. The man reached into the cage, grabbed a chicken by it’s neck, bent and cracked its neck to the side and placed the chicken on the scale as the chicken stopped moving and making noise. The lady then paid and took the chicken. Just like that.

For those of you who do not know, I have always been weird about meat. I absolutely love meat, but if I see meat in its original form (such as turkey on Thanksgiving), it makes my stomach churn. Needless to say, this was quite an experience for me. It also allowed me to realize that I am going to be exposed to many different cooking techniques this upcoming year as I cook in my house. This is not my senior year of college when my roommates and I threw frozen chicken breast onto a George Forman and called it a meal. I may just have to learn how to actually create a meal from a real chicken. This is one of the many things I will keep you updated on- my adventures with food and cooking. However, I do have to say, the chicken must taste so much better, because it is literally as fresh as you can get.

In addition, any type of seafood you could possibly think of purchasing was at the market as well in assorted bins and buckets. The shrimp were still alive, the fish were still swimming. Moreover, the juice was made from actual fruits that were available and blended freshly from rich produce. Finally, our tour guide, Weng, bought our group sugarcane juice. The sugar cane juice was pressed from real sugar cane right then and there in front of our eyes. The juice maker simply slid a huge piece of sugar cane through a press and we watched as juice dripped into a bowl placed strategically under the press.

I left the market with wet, dirty feet, but insight into something I will experience every week in my own Malaysian village. I will buy fresh foods weekly from my local wet market, and by the time I come back home to America, I will probably be freaked out by pre-packaged, pre-marinated Purdue Chicken.