It was raining hard that Saturday. The sky was dark gray and rain fell in heavy drops. That was the week the car’s transmission gave up the ghost. It was in the shop, would stay there a month for repairs. I would have to walk to market. I knew that by the time I got there I would be soaked through, so I decided to postpone my market day. Tomorrow, I said, I will just go to the neighborhood market tomorrow. They also have good food there. It will be a change.
The next day the sun rose early, no trace of rain. I decided to walk less than half a block down and cross the street. Voila, I was at the Legazpi market, a really short walk from where I live. I strolled around, up and down, trying to get a grip on the layout. It was a bit confusing. There were the usual organic vegetables and stuff off to one end. Then there were food stalls, dessert stalls, soft drink and juice stands. There was a wine stand next to someone selling German frankfurters. Then there were lunch tables at the end, somewhere nearer the center, at the other end, and off to one side was a mélange of dry goods where you could also find plants, veggies and fruits.
Suddenly I came to a halt. That man was selling his paintings. What a great idea! I, too, could sell my paintings here. Our paintings are not competitors. They’re very different. Some people prefer his work over mine, others prefer mine over his. I went over to Mylene Casimiro, my favorite jeweler there, and asked her, “Mylene, how much do you pay for a table?” “P500 a day,” she said.
“That’s all? I want to rent a table, too,” I gasped. “What do I have to do?”
“Look for my husband,” she advised. “He manages this place together with his partner.” She pointed at them sitting together. I know her father, too. She is the daughter of Francis Hugo, whom I knew from the first day I began to go to parties a long, long time ago. Within a few minutes I was all set for the following Sunday.
My setup was simple. I rose early last Sunday, brought some of my watercolors — I know it will take a while to sell them because they are not cheap, but I also sell postcards of my paintings. I had them printed to use as a fundraiser for my mother. The postcards come in packages of eight and I sell them for P200. That’s what I wanted a table for. I wanted to sell them at the American Women’s Bazaar, but this year they have the bazaar on Tuesdays and that is my off-the-road day.
Over the week I have thought of calling this endeavor of mine “Twee’s Atelier.” Here I will sell whatever — necklaces, paintings, little things I make at home when I have time. But now, since I don’t have that much free time, I am just selling the postcards.
Last Sunday I went there early and set up shop. We hung the paintings behind me in one corner. I did not sell very much but sold enough to cover my costs and made a little bit of profit. “It’s not a very good Sunday,” Mylene whispered. “Not too many people. Don’t worry, you can sell more later. Just keep coming back.”
I will keep coming back. I don’t have too much to do on Sundays anyway. I can spend half my days at the market, making friends, observing people.
In my heart I feel this Legazpi Market will eventually be very successful. It has a wider variety of goods. Right now, it is not too crowded but I can see that as word gets around it will get more patronage from the people who live around the place, or from people who want to come to Makati and sort of hang out. “Chill out,” I think, is the more correct phrase now.
Come have a look at it on Sunday. You may want to sell your stuff there or you may want to buy the stuff already for sale — from painted bottles to postcards, from jewelry to colognes, from savories to pastries. You can even buy second-hand books. Maybe with enough people cooperating and enough people buying it can be like Montmartre in Paris. We can create a fun mood, somewhere new to shop on Sundays.
In the end, I am glad it rained that Saturday. Look what it did to me. Now I am a tindera on Sundays. Isn’t that fun?
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