The Early Morning Market

Papeete's Social

Centre

THE Papeete market is one of the sights of Tahiti —particularly on a Sunday morning when the womenfolk (and often the menfolk as well) of every household are gathered to collect the comestibles for the ample mid-day dinner.

There is a wealth of colour —the varie gated hues of fish from the coral sea; the China red of tomato; the yellows of banana afid papaia; the vermilion of mountain plantain; the gold of the orange; the mauve of taro; and the rest less, everchanging diversified colouring of feminine costume.

Once, the Papeete market was more picturesque than it is now. The building was but half its present size and in the square were shade trees and a fountain.

At night, this square was the lively centre where gathered the just and the unjust of the little city—the unjust to dance in the Islands manner, and to sin£ ribald Tahitian ute; the just to look, listen and applaud.

Sometimes, to be sure, there would be a brawl or two —when there was v a little too much good cheer —with a bit of hair pulling and the exchange of Tahitian invective. But, usually, there was only singing and dancing and laughter. It was an interesting, exotic scene for the stranger and a never-ending delight for the natives themselves.

Then, one day, Progress descended on Papeete, and all of that sort of thing was abolished.

Progress took the form of electric lights and telephones. Trees interfered with transmission wires and had to come down —not only in the market-place, but all over the town. Papeete, formerly a bower of noble trees and shady highways -—was in the way of becoming a second Djibouti—that treeless, blazing furnace

of African Somaliland. About that tim the singers and dancers were expelled first to the steamer wharf, and, finall outside the town limits.

And now the market place at night as dark and gloomy and silent as a cave: far underground; its murky blackne intensified by the glimmer of light aboi its perimeter.

All of this has not, however, dimi ished the joyous charm of the ear morning market nor dulled the piquam of that commodity—second only in ii portance to the merchandise for the tab —the market gossip.

A ring of sleepless eyes and listenir ears surrounds Tahiti by night as w( as by day. What those eyes see ai ears hear is brought each morning f barter to the market-place. Each vend' (after the manner of all vendors) spic his wares with invention, and savou them with the salt of imagination; that some very extraordinary confectioi are compounded—which are, indeed, fee fully and wonderfully) made.

The distinctive character of the Papee market-place is its cleanliness. We ha read of visits by travellers to mark< places of many other lands under t' tropic sun; and they describe them rather noisome. The market of Papee —by virtue of ceaseless care and inspe tion by the authorities—is immaculate.

A.C.