I had a hard time following my daughter Tammie and sister Agnes. A river of people surged past market stands displaying everything from honey, jewelry, large bouquets of fresh flowers, meat, candy, fresh fruit, and clothing. Just when I thought I could catch up to them, another group of people intent on reaching a nearby stand stepped between us. Despite it being a weekday, the determined crowd at Pike Street Market reminded me of a strong current of downstream water that I had to swim against to get where I wanted to be.

Pike Place Market in Seattle Washington doesn’t require an entry fee to enter, nor does it have official entry gates. People just flood in through the many entrances from the surrounding neighborhood, or up the steps and elevators from the wharf level stores and the stores on the floors in between. Small stores and shops also line the streets and back alleys outside of the market. Tammie, Agnes and I visited an alleyway tea store and a leather goods vendor.

In all, Pike Street Market District covers nine acres. It is described as Seattle’s largest incubator of small, independent businesses where there are a couple hundred independently owned shops and restaurants. It provides income to over three hundred farmers, entertainers and crafts people and affordable housing for over 450 people.

I finally caught up to Tammie as she was examining skin care items made with honey. Agnes was nearby, looking at earrings. I said, “I wonder if there is a public bathroom nearby?” The friendly shopkeeper nodded and pointed further down the hallway saying, “You’ll find one just beyond the Pike Place Fish Market, then down one floor.”

 As I slowly wend my way toward this destination, I tried to think of a way to make the milling crowds more orderly. The only solution I could come up with was to have the shoppers only visit the stalls on one side of the hall before crossing over to the ones on the other side. Then I saw a sign that basically said the same thing. No one was paying any attention to it.

At the large Pike Place Fish Market stall, I heard one of the young fishmongers shouting something. Then a second later the other workers shouted the same thing as the first man tossed a large fish across the market to a young man behind the shop’s counter. That man casually caught the fish, acting as though catching a slippery fish that weighed well over ten pounds wasn’t a big deal. With quick, deft movements, he wrapped the large fish in butcher paper for a customer. The crowd watching ooh-ed and ahh-ed encouragement and applauded. The fishmonger-workers all wore orange coveralls and large boots and looked like they were having a good time talking to people in the crowd, teasing and joking. After seeing their routine a second time, I realized they were shouting customer orders to each other with each throw. Their audience loved it.

On my way back through the crowd to rejoin Tammie and Agnes, I came across a beautiful, life-sized bronze statue of a young piglet. I learned that her name was Rachel and had been made by artist Georgia Gerber in 1986. Rachel is one of the market district’s piggy banks for donations made by the public for the benefit of local Social Services. Rachel brings in about twenty thousand dollars a year, which is managed by the Market Foundation.

When we finally sat down to drink an iced tea and eat a scone, I suggested to my companions with a chuckle, “Maybe we should call it a day? What more is there to shop for? We’ve found tea bags that make tomato soup!”

They agreed, so we all headed back to where the rental car was parked. The crowds of shoppers hadn’t lessened, but I found it easier to keep up with Tammie and Agnes since I had adopted a more aggressive manner of swimming through the crowd.