Following the rapid pace of society, quite a few traditional markets have closed down. Shek Wu Hui Market, an traditional indoor market full of all kinds of raw materials for dishes on the dining tables of North District dwellers, is one of the wet markets that survive in Hong Kong.Not only is the market filled with fishy and stinky air, but also treasurable local cultures and collective memories.
Toward nightfall, a vast number of buyers throng the market, and the noise of bargaining from the crowd is extra loud. Elderly, foreign domestic helpers and housewives fill the market. Entering the market, an immediate vehement scent of fish and blood rush into my nostril. Butcher shops and fish stalls are parted on the ground floor, the former on the left and the latter on the right.
Squeezing through the lane with seafood sales on both sides, I spot fishes struggling in the transparent boxes with water barely cover their whole body.Dozens of frogs are jailed in an overcrowded cage. Eels with half body use their last force to twist.A pile of dying shrimps twitch and splash water over people.Water dripping everywhere makes the whole area damp.Buyers stick out their heads to examine the freshness and yell out their orders. Fishmongers with lengthy aprons expertly slice and clear out viscera with their filthy knives while other fishmongers weight the goods and charge customers.Heading to the other side of the market, brandishing of knives continue.Sounds of sharpening blades and chopping come from all places.Pieces of meats are hung on the shelves with hooks. Red represent this floor. Red plastic bags, rubber gloves and baskets scatter around the storey. On the ceiling of stalls hung excessive bulbs with hemisphere scarlet shields covering the tops of them.Under intense illumination, fish scales shimmer and fresh meats seem more bloody and sickly eye-catching.
Coming to the second floor, I wander around vegetable stores on the left.
