Exotic Adventures: A descriptive essay

Libby Myers (Grade 8)

We were sitting shoulder to shoulder in the back seat, giggling and babbling uncontrollably.  As our minivan rounded the right curve on the steep mountain slope, we all flopped over leaning towards the left.  As one child squashed the other, the tinkling of a children’s laughter filled the car.  Finally, we arrived at our destination. One at a time, we jumped out with bright eyes. One, two, three, four! My brothers and I were ready to explore the sights, tastes, smells, and sounds of the exotic Bulgarian market street.  

I clung to Dad’s hand as he led me down the street of bustling activity. Like dew on the early morning grass, laughter clung to the air.  As marionettes and homemade wooden toys danced on their shelves, colors jumped out to greet us like Jack in the Boxes, and a chorus of flighty giggles broke through the dams of our lips.  Each open-air stall was a door inviting us to a new world, everyone abundant with color and smiling faces.  We readily entered.

The sizzling, crackling meat cooked inside the carnival-like restaurant. Temptingly, the savory smell wafted by my nose.  While my eager eyes darted to-and-fro, absorbing the excitement around me, Wesley was jumping around looking at everything, with Colby tagging along behind him. Honey and comb gleamed in the jars from which they were sold. The sunlight caught it in such a way that it glowed with an other worldly light.

Storekeepers grinned because we were an odd sight: four fair-skinned children, all under the age of ten, with angel hair and blue eyes. Shyly, we trundled along, returning the happy looks with bashful smiles of our own.  I gaped as we passed the Turkish Delight stand.  I glanced hopefully at my mom and was not disappointed.  Out came the wallet and soon enough I had a piece of the sticky candy within my hands.  Cautiously, my tongue darted in and out like a kitten lapping up its milk, as if someone would come up and take my treasure from me.  Soon, I had a coating of the delightful sweet around my mouth. As we started up an incline, I bounced up and down, delighted. 

As we sprang up the hill, I slipped slightly on the cobblestones, which were wet with dew, trying to match my dad’s long stride. The prattle of foreign voices faded as we climbed the slanted street. Gradually, the market behind us became merely a patchwork of jumbled colors misting away into the foggy mountain slope. Up ahead the majestic and ancient gate of the Orthodox Church rose before us in splendid glory.  As people slipped through a pair gigantic wooden of doors, we glimpsed paintings of the saints. One elderly “baba” feebly touched her lips to the painting of St. Paul, and set her lit candle into the stand beside it, which was filled with sand. As she muttered a brief prayer, her head, covered with a red and black scarf, bobbed up and down. Upon exiting, her colorful skirts rustled in the wind and she drew her coat tighter around her bulky clothes.

My mother pushed Timmy around in his stroller, and he twisted around to take everything in with his young eyes.  As I nibbled on the last bit of my Turkish Delight, I was thrilled with the flavor that frolicked on my taste buds.  We turned around.

On the way back to the car, our hearts broke for the armless beggar pleading for money.  Dismally, we wondered what accident had happened to make him this way, and whether the "accident" was intentional or not. We were depressed, but not for long. After traveling back through the “Wonderland”, which was the open-air market, we tumbled into the car and resumed our playful game of leaning against one another. We giggled as Mom passed back napkins to wipe our smiling mouths and sticky hands.  As bleary-eyed children drifted off to dreams of the sizzling of meat, the bright paint, the taste of candy, and all the other sights, smells, tastes, and sounds, the day’s adventure was drawn to a conclusion.

END