Saturday Market - on a Sunday

Our friend, Jeff, is visiting from Birmingham. Jeff and I have been friends since high school, and have kept in touch all these years. He is an avid and intrepid traveler, and I have been trying to convince him to come to Portland to visit us ever since we've been here. After ten years, I think he finally came just to shut me up!

Yesterday, Emily and I took him to Saturday Market via MAX. As a former New York City resident, he won't have any problem navigating our light rail system, but an orientation trip is always helpful. :-) We stopped off at Pioneer Courthouse Square and picked up some tourist information, then headed on to Saturday Market's new home. Formerly housed under the Burnside Bridge, it has recently moved to a pavilion erected specifically for its use right on the river. This was our first trip to the new location, and it's very nice: spacious, clean, and attractive. It's not finished yet; there is to be a fountain/water feature, a stage for musical entertainers, and a designated area for food booths, which are now skirting the perimeter. It should be a really well-laid out and and festive place once it's completed.



We were happy to see that our old favorite artisans and craftspeople were still in residence. It's not a trip to Saturday Market without seeing tie-dye, the Spoonman, the woman who creates beautiful sconces and lanterns from tin cans, and pan flutes. We never did find the booth with duct tape wallets - too bad! We did find trash can musicians, though.



I always try to plan my trips to SM around lunchtime, because the food booths are so interesting. With my adventurous taste in food, it's hard to decide what to eat in this international arena: foods from Poland, Beirut, Khatmandu, Japan, East Africa, New Orleans, Philadelphia (cheese steaks, of course!), and more. Emily was drawn to the sambusas from Horn of Africa, so we shared some of those; Jeff sampled the cuisine of Nepal. It was all good.

Next door is a Plaza dedicated to those Japanese-Americans who were relocated to interment camps during World War II. It is a simple memorial, but emotionally moving, and uses lots of stones with haikus to illustrate the emotional upheaval of the time. Even the paving stones were laid to symbolize how families and their lives were shattered. Pretty sobering.



I tried to get Jeff to take advantage of the $1/minute massage chairs we passed on our way back to MAX, but he declined. I'm hoping his back pain will ease up during his stay.