Haymarket, Sunday 2-5pm

Christine Addison-Site Visit Observations

I began my visit by parking at the public parking garage across from Faneuil Market. As I was driving around trying to score street parking, I was able to get an idea of what the surrounding areas were like. It was sunny and warm so there were plenty of people walking around. The restaurants were serving meals outside and there were people camped out on benches reading the newspaper in just about any available public bench.

At exactly 2:00 I parked my car, leashed my dogs and made my way towards the market. Being that it was my first Haymarket experience, I didn't know what to expect. I was hoping to load up on fresh vegetables, haggle with the produce vendors and get something to eat and drink. I made it over to Blackstone straining my neck in all directions looking for my first vendor interaction only to find that what I was hoping to find was not there, nor would be there that day. I was more confused than disappointed. Was the entrance somewhere else? Was the market actually nestled into some obscure alleyway? I was excited that this may turn out to be some sort of treasure hunt where I may actually score more than just a nectarine or peach.

As I made my way down the sidewalk, there was one sole vendor open selling a very limited supply of produce set up on a table outside of his meat market. All of the other storefronts were closed. The metal doors were all drawn down and padlocked. There was no vendor tending to the produce so the fruit on the table was as lonely as the dirty sidewalk. My initial excitement started to wane as the reality of the brutal truth was right before my eyes. No fruit, no haggling, the market does not exist on Sundays. I wasn't even sure if I was in the right place. I did see evidence of fruit and vegetables scattered, rotted and smashed in the crevices of the road, gutters, and brick paving but along with the lingering smell of rotted food. I felt like I missed the party.

I made it down the sidewalk to the Irish pub where a waitresses was having a cigarette break. She was the only person in sight. I approached her in order to figure out what was going on. She was kind enough to speak to me for a minute informing me that the market is only open on Fridays and Saturdays. A couple of guys stumbled out of the pub. The shorter one had a big old shiner. Must have been a good party. The waitress described where the market was set up and went back inside. She also made it a point to say where the market wasn't. She was sure to point out that over there was the North End and over here was Haymarket.

I continued down the sidewalk and turned the corner onto Hanover St. There was more evidence of market remains scattered and smashed into the bricks. I turned up into the little ally and spoke to a few more wait staffers at the other Irish pub. They basically corroborated the smoke breakers information and scuttled back to work. They were a little more descriptive in trying to explain the layout of how the market was laid out. The explained that the tents and vendors were actually set up in the street. That was some helpful information. I had assumed on my own that the sidewalk and the ally was where the action was. Now I could imagine a larger space and a lot more vendors and farmers.

As I made my way back down Blackstone, I walked along the Jersey barriers and climbed around the vendor storage behind the chain link fencing trying to use my imagination as to how the temporary structures were erected. There were hundreds of blue pallets, wood sawhorses, 4x4 posts with thousands of staples rusted into the wood, plastic blue tarps, artificial grass, recycle bins, and stackable produce bins. There really didn't seem to be any sort of organizational order to how things were arranged. It seemed all slammed together at the very last minute.

I made a few sketches, took some pictures, and headed back to the car with the dogs at around 2:50 or so. I am curious to see some of the other observations with the presence of life. Should be interesting!