A bizarre day at the local bazaar

The bazaar in Gjilan had recently been renovated, the last time I had been there the place was completely different, so I took this opportunity to visit the renewed place. The visit was a completely different experience from the times I’d been before the change. The building used to be old and all the little markets were clustered into a tight space. Going in was scary for my younger self because the old bazaar was likened to a maze, once you got in you never knew if you’d find your way out. Oddly, that scenery, even with its bad conditions felt much homier than the renovated bazaar I recently visited. Back then it was like getting lost in a whole different world. The tight space would be suffocated with people either buying or selling products. The old bazaar felt like those Indian bazaars shown in movies. The new one felt cold. Now don’t get me wrong there were a lot of stores selling traditional clothing, vegetables and fruits, machinery and beautiful dishes, but the way every store was lined so perfectly and its extremely clean look made it feel empty.

                                      

The road to the entrance of the bazaar hadn’t changed much, it was filled left and right with stores selling wedding dresses and long fancy gowns. Every store had its own unique attire, some had traditional clothing or wedding dresses. Something else every store seemed to have was a “mindil”, a handcrafted piece of cloth used in traditional dances. That may be because summer is the season for weddings, hence the many unique and beautiful styles. 

While entering the actual bazaar, there were many tables full of fruits and vegetables. The sellers around them immediately trying to get a customer started offering their products. I felt a bit awkward, especially since I hadn’t planned on buying anything, but the people working there were very friendly, even if their stares were uncomfortably long. I had the pleasure of talking to one of the sellers about the vegetables they were selling, they informed me that their products were homegrown. They planted and took care of them until they were ready to be sold. Another thing they mentioned was that most days of the week they have barely any work, but Saturdays are when they make the most profit. Unfortunately, with the many supermarkets that have been opened in the city, business has gone down, in comparison to the times when the only way to get produce was from the bazaar.

 

Another store I went into had traditional clothing, red velvet fabric embroidered with gold, the traditional dresses Albanian women wear. Every store I passed had at least a dozen “mindila”. As I was walking by, a red one with black sprinkles caught my eye. I was immediately reminded of one that had been gifted to me as a child which I sadly lost. I asked the woman who was selling them for the price, but it was higher than I was willing to pay, so the bargaining began. At first, I found asking for a lower price embarrassing, but in the end, I ended up buying a “mindil” for three euros, two euros less than the initial price. With this experience I realized talking to people I don’t know isn’t as hard as I had anticipated. As I was leaving the place full of contentment and satisfaction, my good mood was tarnished by some women saying how foolish I looked while taking pictures of the place.

 

Lenda Hasani