[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n the last few months there have been utterings of the enhancement of the Castries Market. Once I heard about it, the first thing that popped into my head was, “Well, it’s about time!” I know for some, the market may represent many unsavoury things—the smell, the filth or even some of the unruly characters—but for me the market represents so much more; I view it as the meeting place of the largest number of agro-entrepreneurs on-island and for many, including myself, it was the business place for many of our relatives.
Built in 1891 and opened in 1894—it was the “super” market before supermarkets. It became the go-to place for a variety of goods, from fresh meat and fish to herbs, spices, crafts and dry goods. But what I love most about the market is the rituals. Come Saturday morning, vendors are out at the crack of dawn to secure a prime spot and wait patiently for prospective buyers. The buyers themselves were largely wives, mothers and aunties, most bare-faced (because there was not enough time to put on make-up; or because they didn’t care to), or donning head ties, because who has time to fix hair when you need to catch your favourite vendor?
Another magical thing about the Castries Market is the way it is able to transcend class. In the heat of the “hunt”, Creole can be brought out of even the fanciest of middle-class women.
So, as time passed by and the market’s perception (and infrastructure) slowly deteriorated, what once was a Castries landmark is now a fading relic, much like the rest of Castries.
What made me excited most of all to hear about the Castries Market’s redevelopment was the mention of London’s Borough market. It was said that elements of Borough Market would be emulated in the redesign of the Castries Market. For those who aren’t familiar with the Borough Market model, it’s quite simply the hub of London’s world-class food scene. Much like the Castries Market, Borough Market has a way of bringing people together—because once you walk in, it is a reflection of the diversity of England in general. While Borough Market did start out much like the Castries Market with the sale of fresh produce, the nineties brought about an interest in artisanal foods, so much so, that today it’s kind of like a very big food court with a handful of vendors selling produce.
Now while I don’t know what the actual plans for our market are, or when work will commence on the redevelopment, what I do know is that it needs to undergo a transformation; much like all good things, change is necessary for growth. Also, the expectations of our tourists are no longer the same: sand, sea and sun; most want an intimate peek into our Saint Lucian lifestyle and for many that starts with food—I mean, look at the number of food and rum festivals we have in the region. And look at how many tourists still wander into the market for a meal, when many of us locals do not do the same. Think about it: if the market was truly transformed to incorporate traditional elements of produce-vending with modern culinary artisans and craftsmen in a comfortable, Saint Lucian setting located in the city centre, it would suit both locals and tourists alike. So, really the question is: What’s taking us so long?
Keithlin Caroo is a member of Helen’s Daughters, a Saint Lucian non-profit with a special focus on rural women’s economic development through improved market access, adaptive agricultural techniques, and capacity-building.
Helen’s Daughters was formed in 2016 in a winning proposal for UN Women’s Empower Women Champions for Change Program. To learn more about the initiative, visit the website or Facebook and Instagram pages with the name
Helen’s Daughters.
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