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| The fisherman is the one in plaid |
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| Whispering a bid for a lot of fish |
When we left off last time, the fishing boats were pulling up to the shoreline and the fish was quickly sorted and scooped up into small lots on square plastic sheets and swiftly taken up to a concrete pavilion where prospective buyers were waiting. The fishermen spread the plastic sheet out on the floor and waited a minute or two for the customers to make up their minds. Then, the "whispered auction" began.
Someone would make an almost-invisible gesture and the fisherman would sidle up to him. A whispered consultation would then take place, with the potential buyer holding up his hand to hide the words (actually, the price) he was muttering. The seller would then go around the rest of the small circle, stopping whenever someone wanted to whisper a bid into his ear. Once every interested party had had a chance to whisper a price, the fisherman would give a little nod to the successful bidder. Then money would change hands and the bundle of fish would be scooped up. The fish were dumped into the customer's plastic bag, and then it would happen all over again. I was amazed at the huge wads of money that some buyers had in plain view. I guess they were buying as wholesalers or middle men.
The charming part of the whole thing was how informal it was, especially compared to the famous fish auctions at Tsukiji in Tokyo. They're pretty businesslike and strict at the Japanese fish auction, even barring tourists from getting too close. But at Kuala Mudah, it's casual and friendly. There are housewives, kids, photo-snapping foreigners (us) and even some well-fed cats. I was happy to respond a dozen times to the perpetual question, which is generally this: Your country?
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