An ode to the public market

There was a time when I used to go to Baguio City frequently. It was a drive I looked forward to. It was a breezy drive on the expressway, all the way to La Union, then up the mountain via winding roads, giving glimpses of rivers and valleys until it was time to roll down your windows to experience the cool weather that the area is known for. It was a reliable escape from the stress of Manila, though traffic each year was getting eerily familiar. I found myself gravitating more toward the outskirts, hiding in rest spots that still evoke the feeling of the Baguio of my childhood. There is one reason I dare to venture into the city center, and sometimes my sole reason for going to Baguio in the first place: their public market.

Compared to markets in Manila, the Baguio City public market allowed me to experience vegetables at their freshest. As a former vegetarian, this was my heaven. Only there could I find green onions that resemble the ones used in Korean cooking. Like the witch in the musical “Into the Woods,” I could rhapsodize about the variety and brightness of various produce, such as lettuce, cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli, garlic, ginger, and carrots. The fruits were not to be ignored, as they can only grow in the relatively temperate climate of the region. The further in you go, the vendors have less patience for ignorant tourists, but the prices are much cheaper. I remember one vendor being so frustrated with my timid request for only a quarter kilo of red chilis that she just handed me a fistful for free to make me go away.

Turn into another alley, and you find yourself in spice row. Allow your nose to lead the way, and you find yourself in a row of shops full of coffee beans. The public market is an intense sensory experience, invoking all five senses (and a bit of claustrophobia). The prices, at least back then, were cheap for the quality of the product that you’re getting. Book yourself an accommodation with a kitchen, and you could be living out your Julia Child dreams, cooking with fresh produce from scratch and sipping coffee made from freshly ground mountain beans. I make sure to visit the public market again on my last day, to cram my trunk full of produce before heading back down to my Manila reality.

I’ve been mulling over this topic as the issue of the public market’s redevelopment was happening, with most of my Baguio friends opposing its “mall-ification” under an SM Prime Holdings Inc.-led proposed partnership. I am glad that the proposal was withdrawn, though I know this does not end the ultimate issue of how to improve the public market. Outside of business or economic strategies, of which I am no expert, I would rather focus on preserving the spirit of the public market and the meaning it holds for the community.

It is good for the community to take ownership of the public market. When I work with adolescents and their families, I encourage parents to let their child openly negotiate house rules to increase the child’s sense of ownership. If a child feels that they chose the rules, they are more likely to follow them. A sense of ownership leads to responsibility and stewardship.

There seems to be a strong sentiment for this, with vendors and merchants willing to collectively come up with capital as an alternative to SM. If they can come up with a feasible funding strategy, it would allow the community to set the direction of the redevelopment. Who better to know what the public market needs and what its potential could be than the people who have been part of it for generations? If they’ve invested in it, they are more likely to step up as stewards, not allowing it to get degraded. They won’t be controlling it from afar, with only a macro view of its economics, but will have an intuitive understanding of what the public market means to the people. While, of course, profitability is necessary for its survival, they will recognize the true value of the public market as a community center and the glue that holds the city together.

In a way, I hope they have a better ending than what the UP Shopping Center got. Now called the DiliMall, it is an empty commercial shell of its old self. While perhaps modern, it lacks the spirit of the original, with the invasion of franchised stores and restaurants and none of the original institutions that made the shopping center what it was. Gone is the coop where student organizations can stock up on snacks and soft drinks and where dormers can refill their pantry. Gone is the heady mix of toner fumes as you check off all your school essentials: blue books, beakers, dissection kits, and electronic parts. Theses were being bound left and right. Photo IDs made fast but under unflattering light. It was a veritable Diagon Alley back in the day. And now it’s just … a mall.

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aatuazon@up.edu.ph