Zanzibar's Darajani Market

There's only a short written component to this particular series of photographs, as we made our way quite briefly in and out of Zanzibar's most populated marketplace.

We started with the electronics market lined on tables outside of the main hall. Passing by men gathered in crowds to watch what I can't ever see but assume is a sport or gamble of some sort, hiding from the potential of rain under brightly-hued table umbrellas.

We flowed into the main fish market along with the crowds, currents of visitors unnecessarily holding their noses while making their way through locals haggling for purchases. The stone brick building opens up to the air with curved arches, with the fisherman and butchers setting up shop on gleaming wet tables, surveying their products sitting on the shoulder-height partitions that make up the stalls.

From there it was back outside to the tarped stands of the fruit, vegetable, and spice markets. Everything was so visibly orange, reflecting the light barely wafting through the orange tents lined with piles of limes, strung-up bananas and pineapples, rows of plastic-packaged spices in shades of brown brought in from the local plantations. There are baskets upon baskets of chili peppers and garlic, next to stalls lined with bright and out-of-place beaded jewelry and the intermittent souvenir.

There's something about a marketplace that I cannot resist, and they're the first stop on any journey I can make. Something about how the exact same cultural station with a specific function can seem completely different and the same in each new place. They're all studded with un-and-familiar flora and fauna, local and imported wares. Lots and lots of small things in such very, very large numbers.