I believe we all have our own stories about markets—those mystical, magical, labyrinthine places. They are spaces where everything exists in a systematic chaos, a human manifestation of the struggle between order, entropy, and commerce.
As a child, the Central Market of Costa Rica seemed complicated and bustling to me; it wasn’t my favorite spot in San José. I used to think that if I got lost there, I’d never be able to find my way out… We only went occasionally, not very often. I especially remember the trips in December to get plantain leaves and corn for the end-of-year tamales.
Over time and with age, I grew to appreciate the market and began to navigate its labyrinthine corridors, following like Theseus’ golden thread the aroma of coffee from that little stall I love so much.
Every now and then, when I want to recalibrate my skills with the camera or show the place to a foreigner, I head to the Central Market. On one of those outings, at the corner of the flower shop, I took the photo of this little girl in the flower section.”
