Haviva's blog entry

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Hi everyone! Mindy felt that I should put my two cents in . . . or something. Eventually, I intend to read through what she has written and make comments, however, since I went to Victoria Market this past Friday for a longer time than she did, I thought I would tell my story.

First of all, please understand that I had a dream one night (I'm not sure exactly when, they all sort of blur together). In the dream I was telling Mindy how upset I was to have left Australia without having purchased any boomerangs or digerdydoos (an aboriginal musical instrument). I then realized that I also hadn't purchased the one item my father requested from Sydney . . . for that matter we hadn't even gone to Sydney . . . so I sat down in the middle of the gravel road and informed Mindy that I wasn't going any further until this dream was over; which it was at that point. Therefore, when we had a free day on Friday, I decided to look into purchasing the above mentioned items.

We had stopped off at the market on Thursday but, since I enjoy this type of open air sales, I took a quick look but did not shop until Friday. I was told by one of the vendors that they will not be in the same stalls each day, and even though I was skeptical and thought it was merely a tactic to get me to buy something sooner, I knew I would do better waiting. I don't like to buy when I feel rushed.

So Friday morning, Mindy and I walked to the Global Gossip (Internet Cafe), checked e-mails, etc. and then continued on to the Victoria Market. She showed me the candy store she enjoyed and then we went our separate ways. The first booth I actually stopped at had something I wanted to get for my husband for his birthday/Channuka. (Sorry, I can't tell you what, since I don't want to spoil the surprise.) When I chose what I wanted the vendor replied with "Mazel Tov." He then did the same for someone else and pointed out to me that he says that to everyone. It turns out that he was from Tel Aviv, Israel. We spent some time talking about politics. Everyone around here is "enjoying" the presidential race in the state. He was especially interested with regard to the America-Israel relations. After our conversation, I asked him if there was a "mishpacha (family) discount." He chuckled and apologized. I made my purchase (still cheaper than it probably would have been in the States), and continued in search of boomerangs and digerdydoos (however that is spelled).

I found a table with some aboriginal art and decorated items (including those in my search). Behind the table, a woman was sitting shuffling some tarot cards. One of the younger guys made a comment about her being a famous tarot reader. I responded that so am I and was asked if I would read for them. I replied that I did not have my cards with me, was she willing to let me use hers. She was, so I did. I will not go into the details of the readings, however, he had me read twice with the same question in mind. I guess he wanted a second opinion. The seated woman smiled and agreed with me throughout. That made me feel good. When I was done, I returned to looking at the items in their display. I casually mentioned that in the States, what I had done would have cost about $50. He said he would take care of me. He notice that I had picked three of the painted (decorative -- as opposed to usable) boomerangs. He took them from me, put them in a plastic bag and said they were from him. In addition, I purchased a pair of rhythm sticks. (There is another story there, but I don't have that much time left.) He gave them to me at half price.

I started looking at the didgerdydoos. The small ones were the right price and I thought my dad might enjoy an instrument he could play . . . so I asked the older gentleman if he could teach me how to play them. He explained that although he knew how -- just look at the cd set which was for sale -- he could not teach a woman without the probability of being put to death and then he added that I would probably be put to death as well. I decided that it wasn't worth it. As it turns out, the smaller size wasn't playable anyhow. So instead, I bought a cd and asked him to autograph it. He only had a red pen, which he would not use because red is the color of blood and, therefore, bad luck. I had a sharpie with me. He spent a long time writing something, including a picture of a kangaroo with a joey (baby kangaroo) in its pouch. He explained that represented him and his mother. He explained the rest of it, but I don't remember it all.

I continued to shop and managed to look at every table -- or at least I thought so. When I say the shirts Mindy had purchased, I thought about going back . . . but I don't need clothes. No, I had bought what I came to buy (except the didgerdydoo,) and I had a great time, which was even more important!

Well, I think I will end my story here. Thanks for reading.

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