Night Market (through a psychedelic lens)

When I first heard rumors of the Vancouver Night Market, images from Neil Gaiman’s floating market of London Below came to mind. A night market should be a little weird, a little gritty, and full of eccentric individuals. I should be able to buy roof maps or rooks, or maybe a few fresh dreams. And lost property—surely someone would be selling some properly lost property. And the place should be lit up with Christmas lights and oil lanterns. Filkers and medieval jugglers should busk between stalls full of hard-to-find wares, and the eccentric people should look that way all the time, not just a couple weekends of the year.

That’s the way my night market would be, anyway.

It’s important not to build up expectations. We found that out when we arrived at the tent village wedged between a warehouse and an arm of the  Fraser River. Right off, we were met by Chevrolet pushers who invited us to apply colored sharpies to the color-by-number car stationed near the entrance. My hopes for a Gaimanesque evening were killed before we started.

“Look, Ma! I’m coloring a car with indelible ink!”
(I’m fairly sure that the car was shrink wrapped in clear, peel-away plastic. Even so.)

Still, coloring a brand-new, white car with indelible ink does have its appeals.

The Night Market is located in a predominantly Asian part of the Vancouver area, so it was no surprise that the sales tents were predominantly full of Asian goods—largely directed at teenage girls: cute cartoon-decorated socks (8 pairs for $10), clothes, jewelry, hair ornaments, stuffies based on anime films…and Hello Kitty. Lots and lots of Hello Kitty.

No, we don’t know what it is. But it’s cute.

Daughter #2 and I perused the tables in search of treasure while my husband paced behind us. (I could feel vibrations from his grinding teeth through the pavement under my feet.) The prices were surprisingly reasonable and we bought some stuff.

To understand my delight at finding the robot necklace, you need to watch the video below.

Robots need love, too.

Stay with it to the end.

Feeling peckish, we moved our explorations to the food section of the market. And oh, my throbbing taste buds!

Even if you’re not into buying Hello Kitty or colored contacts, the food alone is worth the visit to the Vancouver Night Market. This was not your usual carnival fare (though they did have the ever-present mini-donuts and corn on the cob). The food was (predictably) predominantly Asian. Faced with a vast array of dim sum, noodles, and bubble tea, as well as edibles I’ve never seen anywhere else, we ate our way up and down the lanes. I probably did not need that last custard-filled wheel cake.

As we browsed and ate, the crowd began to thicken.  Sellers shouted out their wares, sometimes in English, sometimes not. Oddly dressed folks began to appear; some deliberately odd and others stumbling into oddness by instinct. The market began to feel like I imagined an outdoor market should feel. Not quite London Below, but charged with energy and a touch of the exotic nevertheless.

Twilight approached and more oddly dressed folk began to emerge. I started to think maybe my criteria for a night market were not so far off, after all. Maybe the true spirit of night market was merely waiting for dark to fall.

Senkaku Mei kisses Darth Vador. Maybe Darth Vador needs love too.

Advertisements

About Marie Loughin

I love reading, writing, and editing speculative fiction of all sorts. My current focus is on writing contemporary fantasy, where I get to play god with characters from myth and legend. My Norse-based urban fantasy, Valknut: The Binding, is available at Kindle Books and other e-book retailers. You can find me at my blog (marieloughin.com) and on Twitter (@mmloughin).
This entry was posted in Books, Life and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to Night Market (through a psychedelic lens)

  1. I love the way you write, Marie. This post absolutely resonates with your voice. Me thinks you have a knack for not only the written word (we already knew that!) but for engaging travelogue-type, full-sensory immersion writing. I felt like I was at the Night Market. I could hear, smell, see, and even taste the adventure you and your family had. And, oh my gosh, do I wish I had such a cute stuffie-thing as you do now!

    I want to bring you with me when I go to the Mayan ruins next year; I think you could write the [beep] outta some Mayan ruins!

    -aniko

  2. Oh! I want to go,too! Fun piece, Marie!

  3. juliabarrett says:

    Fascinating. Aside from the tentacles I’d eat my way through as well. Re the last pic… do you remember the movie Spaceballs? He looks like Dark Helmet.

    • That’s funny–I thought the same thing. The helmet is a little over-sized. Though Darth was kneeling so the girl could reach him for the kiss…

  4. last_lines says:

    I agree with Aniko :)Fabulous post full of sensory power!
    I want to go to your night market.
    – Kim

  5. Margaret Y. says:

    Fun! Reminds me of the night markets that pop up all over Taiwan. They are technically illegal, but the cops hardly ever crack down. When they do, the vendors are back again the next night.
    …and the food! Oh, the food. When I lived in Taiwan, I’d often skip dinner and just snack my way through the market. Fried pork buns, crab pieces on a stick, egg cakes.

    • Sounds very similar. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where the idea for this market came from. I’d go back just for the food, but they also have stages for live entertainment.

  6. Paul D. Dail says:

    Let me just chime in with my agreement. Fun piece. Part travelogue, part storytelling. Had hints of Aniko’s piece on Breaker (which inspired me to do a post on the Atlantic Hotel from my book… one of these days :)). Speaking of Aniko, I agree on your voice. Even though I’ve never heard you in person, I feel like I do already.

    I may have to do a paint-by-numbers with my old truck. Now, what to put?

    Paul D. Dail
    http://www.pauldail.com- A horror writer’s not necessarily horrific blog

Comments are closed.