Meat Market

My social sponsor gave me a ring Saturday morning to see if I needed to go grocery shopping, which I’m not in a situation to turn down, so we headed over to what is known at Zone 4 or zone quatre [cat]. We were on a mission; looking for a place that allegedly sells frozen meat?? All on a Saturday morning right? Ha, there it is, one “illegal” u-turn a quick drive over the divider to the Surface Street and voila, U-CAF (dunno what it stands for) we walk down the street enter a driveway beyond a tall sheet metal and barbwire gate with three guards hanging out. Enter a large cold storage area, what I would have guessed as loading docks, but alas, around another couple dark corners we make it to a smaller separate room, completely white tile lit with green tinted Florissant lights (my disbelieving pampered side, that hates scary movie’s asking what is apparently the side that controls my feet - are we really here on purpose?) All in the name of good quality cheap meat… thankfully my social sponsor is French speaking, so we check out each freezer, and I end up getting chicken and a pork loin, successfully avoiding what I consider unappetizing options (i.e. tripe).
The evening was fun, a group of us, prompted by a couple that are heading back to the states after being here for three years, had yet to venture to Rue de Princess. Though I’ve never been to Bourbon Street in Louisiana, this is apparently its African cousin. Dance clubs named Jackpot and Hollywood line the strip. Vendors have their BBQs out offering chickens or fish avec frites (with fries). Let me tell you, I just had a bite, but the Poisson (fish about 14 – 18 inches long) seasoned and cooked over the open fire - yummie!
Though the comments were lost on me, according to the occasional laughs of my French speaking escorts’ passer Byers would say profound things such as “wa, you’re white!?!” we’re even sporting our African tans right now too…