A Cultural Reflection | Hypermarkets vs. Farmers Markets

This morning, my son joined me for our weekly grocery trip to the hypermarket. With the school on break for a month, it was a change from my usual weekend routine. My son offered to accompany me, and I appreciated the company and the help to carry the bags. The drive was smooth with clear skies, easy parking. As soon as we entered the cool, air-conditioned supermarket, I grabbed a trolley and walked into the fruit section, where I ended up taking a bunch of bananas. It was all very ordinary.

But as I stood there, I felt a sudden longing for the farmers markets of my childhood in Sarawak, (Borneo). Here, the supermarket felt quiet and clean, with rows and rows of packaged vegetables and soft background music. Back home, grocery shopping was very different with its lively, crowded, open-air market filled with voices, and laughter. There was no air conditioning; only the natural heat of the tropics. The air was usually warm and humid, clinging to your skin.

In my hometown (it's a small town), hypermarkets didn’t exist. Instead, villagers gathered at the market at dawn to sell fresh jungle produce: miding (wild ferns), kulat (wild mushrooms), upa (palm shoots), and seasonal fruits like dabai (a local favorite) and embawang (wild mangoes). Some brought fresh river fish or prawns. The air smelled of nature, and people chatted as they bargained. Children played between stalls, and everyone seemed to know each other.

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Here in the city, my children have only ever known supermarkets. They are bright, clean, and efficient. My son has never tasted dabai or seen vegetables sold straight from the forest. I try to cook dishes from my childhood, using substitutes from the supermarket, but it’s not the same. There’s a charm in selecting a bunch of miding by hand or bargaining for the price of one scoop of dabai that no pre-packaged item can replace.

Of course, supermarkets are convenient. I appreciate the cool air on hot days and knowing exactly where to find what I need. But they lack the human connection of the farmers market like the laughter, the banter and just the overall sense that you belong, you’re part of a community. Shopping at the hypermarket feels impersonal, serious and always solitary.

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As I drove back home, I remembered a poem I wrote that compared the two worlds. It explained the differences between the chilly cleanliness of the hypermarket and the warm, chaotic liveliness of the farmers market. The first is efficient and modern, whereas the second is rich in tradition and life. Either one has its place, but I will always choose the latter.

One day, I hope to take my children back to Sarawak to explore the farmers market with them and show them what food shopping was like when I was growing up. I want them to experience the warmth, joy, and and the taste of freshly foraged food. Maybe then they'll understand why I constantly return to those memories and why, no matter where I live, a piece of me will always be in that lively market in my hometown.

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That's it for now. If you read this far, thank you. I appreciate it so much! I'm a non-native English speaker, and English is my third language. Post ideas and content are originally mine, edited with an AI editor for clarity, correct grammar, and sentence structure. Kindly give me a follow if you like my content. I mostly write about making art, writing, life musings, and our mundane yet charming family life here in Klang Valley, Malaysia.

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