
Josie's Mug
Saturdays in Graz; Laden with basket-carting old women and lads with linen sacks, dashing off for a gentle peruse through the massive farmer’s markets sprinkled throughout the city. One finds hoards of mosey-ers, meandering throughout the sunny streets, ducking into shops and emerging with sticky fingers and the remains of freshly baked sticky cinnamon buns, diets be damned.
I don’t find myself in Graz on a Saturday very often, and so whenever I do happen to join the mosey-ers, I’m always quite shocked at the enthusiasm of the Saturday atmosphere.
Yesterday, following a morning of a really capital jaunt along the trails of the mountain Plabutsch, I took up my own burlap bag and joined the ranks of the stroller-pushing family men and the riding-boot clad lasses at the farmer’s market.
It’s a well-choreographed dance; the Austrians seem to know exactly how to maneuver the rows and rows of tables offering freshly baked bread, locally grown Styrian winter vegetables, christmas cookies, beautifully decorated pine wreaths, and homemade Austrian schnapps.
They seem to know exactly how much time to spend choosing the right bundle of kale, what increments of coins they should present to the vendor for ¼ kilo of carrots, how much conversation is too much.
Unfortunately, I was the awkward last-minute-addition to the dance and was doing more of a hip-hop freestyle instead of the previously agreed upon waltz. No matter; soon I picked my way home, armed with a half loaf of freshly baked Brauenbot (literally translated “brown bread”), local Styrian Waldhonig (forest honey), and a bundle of locally grown assorted Gemuse (veggies).
Saturday mornings like these bring me back to Emporia, to the small yet electric farmer’s market by the Granada. Perhaps it’s the feeling of routine, the feeling of ceremony that creates such a wonderfully cozy atmosphere. You are amongst an array of wonderful people who come here weekly.
Not only is the produce usually cheaper (and almost ALWAYS better tasting), but whenever I pop over to the market, I’m reminded of how much this all…matters. This close-knit community of inclusive shoppers participating together in a ritual.
It’s like going to the library to study, instead of staying in your room.
Yes, it’s quiet and gentle in atmosphere and one is seated amongst other studiers and together is a community formed.