A Colorful Feast for the Senses: the Atenas Farmers' Market

After my meeting with Luz Angelica, we headed back down to the center of town, where don Christian dropped me off. I think he wanted to stay, we were both still buzzing about this beautiful of Costa Rican paradise. But he had more clients to drive, so we parted company.

On Fridays, the Atenas Farmers' Market is a community gathering place of fresh foods, friends greeting each other, and smiling tourists. Somewhere around 70 or more stands dotted two longish, perpendicular blocks of farmers, artisans, and prepared food vendors.

I spotted Gabriel, one of the sons of the organic coffee family farm from where we're buying our coffee directly for our new Sole (pronounced So-leh) line of delicious java. Gabriel has been a friend and fellow empassioned sustainable eco and social farming peaceful warrior for two years now. We had agreed to rendezvous at the Friday market after my meeting at the school. We exchanged a warm greeting as we always do when we see each other, and while he spoke to customers about their coffee, breads, and tours, I took a little stroll around the market with the video camera and two bags in tow.

Papayas, mangos, pineapples, granadillas, caimitos, platanos, and guanabanas were but a few of the colorful selections that feasted the eyes. Countless other stands selling fresh produce, herbs, baked goods, cheeses, yogurt, sour cream, and meat products displayed their goods. Aromas of "tortas de huevo" (a sort of egg omlet) wafted amongst the prepared food stands as did the sweet scent of cooked pejiballes ready for on-the-spot consumption or take-away options. Walking vendors with school supplies, watches, belts, and underwear meandered through the crowds, announcing their goods and aiming to make eye contact with potential customers.

In front of the plaza was a much bigger school, and by then it was lunch recess time. I saw large groups of elementary-aged kids playing spirited chasing games on two very distinct teams running some mystical patterns at the blow of their coaches' whistle, their high-pitched screams and laughter all around us, as they delighted in their competitive, friendly sparring. Smaller groups of older girls, boys, and mixed teams occupied soccer pitches and volleyball nets. Locals sitting on the edge of the plaza's wall, snacking on their fresh grub purchased at the market, enjoyed the sights and sounds of those kids, too.

As if time hadn't stood still, Gabriel motioned me over, it was time to pack and head back to his family farm, where his mom, Sole, was waiting for us with a hot, home-made lunch. By the way, we named our line of coffee in honor of dona Sole, a lovely soul and hard-working mama, wife, baker, cook, greened-thumbed hostess, and friend. We pulled the goodies off the tables, packed them into boxes in Gabriel's car, and off to the higher terrain we went.