Considered Panama's best indigenous market, artesans represented include Guaymis, Kuna, Embera and Wounaan Indians. Most of them walk in from the mountains early Sunday morning and set up stalls in the semi-covered market area along the main street in the center of El Valle. Here's what you can expect to find:
*batea—decorated hardwood trays
* owl and frog soap stone figurines
* mola embroidered children's dresses
* beaded and wooden jewelry
* palm baskets, woven hot pads, woven plates
* Panama hats
* ceramic frogs, birds, mushrooms
At 7am, the market was bustling with activity as campesinos removed tarps from their stalls and prepared for business. It was smaller than I anticipated, a long city block crammed with tables of produce, flowers, handicrafts and souvenirs.
We ate breakfast at a nearby restaurant and lingered over scrambled eggs and bacon. There was no hurry. No crowds of tourists to contend with or masses of shoppers to compete with at Macy's Day After Thanksgiving Christmas Sale. In contrast, it looked rather sleepy.
Half of the space was a farmer's market. But since neither plants nor fruit were allowed on our flight early the next morning, we concentrated on the other half, maneuvering through narrow aisles absorbing the variety of handicrafts in our first look-see run.
Most shoppers were Panamanians. In fact, I don't recall any other gringos. A man from Panama City with a Nikon strapped around his neck approached me and said he was a professional photographer too. Too? I'm not, I told him. But we had a nice conversation about the uncooperative weather, equipment and Panama until I excused myself to go find my friend Donna. We'd managed to get separated in our shopping and I had no idea where she was.
I wandered among makeshift stalls in the open air and completed the loop without finding her. Time was limited. It was time to shop!
I bought a darling mola embroidered dress for my toddler, woven Panama hats for her and me, a rain stick with tropical birds painted on wood, a Kuna doll, flower-embroidered hat, leather purse, woven pot holders, beaded necklaces, bracelets, palm baskets, and painted gourd ornaments. And then I looked up to see Donna crossing the street.
She showed me her loot. "Where'd you get that?" I asked admiring an orange-and-yellow striped hammock. We'd both wanted to purchase hammocks since our Windjammer cruise in Panama's San Blas Islands, but I hadn't seen them for sale anywhere in the market.
"In that souvenir shop," she said pointing away from the market. "Just $15, too," she said, practically gloating.
I was already crossing the street. My bargain brain had engaged. "But our taxi comes in five minutes," she called. It didn't matter. I wasn't going home without a hammock when there was one steps away for $15.