“What is this?” the woman asked, arm linked with her boyfriend’s, leaning over the planter boxes.
“It’s an orchid. You know, tropical plant?” the flower seller said.
The woman turned to her boyfriend and spoke in Spanish. The seller simply smiled.
“SerÃa dÃficil para transportarla a México,” the seller said. He was right; it would be difficult to take a touchy exotic plant to Mexico.
“Actually, we’re going back to El Salvador,” the man responded.
“Ah, El Salvador! My mother is from San Salvador. Beautiful country,” the seller said as he trailed off. “Anyway, it would still be difficult.”
“Pero es muy bonita. Me gusta mucho,” the woman looked to her boyfriend, pleading. He crossed his arms but kissed her forehead. She smiled and turned back to the seller. “How do you take care of it?”
I couldn’t blame her for her interest. The orchids were indeed very pretty, though whether they were the prettiest of hundreds, perhaps even thousands of flowers at the Los Angeles Flower Market in Downtown Los Angeles’ Flower District, is a question that must simply remain unanswered.
The Los Angeles Flower Market, open at its current location since 1923, can be found at 766 Wall St. and is Los Angeles’ largest market for buying flowers and plants of all types. In fact, Los Angeles’ Flower District is the largest flower market in the nation.
Beginning in 1892, Japanese American farmers began to grow flowers near Santa Monica. By 1913, these farmers began to sell the flowers close to Wall Street. Business boomed so readily, that farmers moved into the present Flower Market building and sold their wares every morning in one location. Today, the Flower Market is open to the public every morning, except Sundays, from 6 a.m. to noon on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and 8 a.m. to noon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
While it costs $2.00 to get through the market doors ($1.00 on Saturdays), it is a small fee to pay to enter such a heavenly-smelling warehouse. From the outside, the Flower Market looks like Home Depot, but upon entrance, the heavy humid air (controlled for the tropical flowers, of course), the wafting scent floral scent, and the sight of blues, reds, pinks, whites, yellows, oranges, and purples greets visitors.
Perhaps the most refreshing thing about the Flower Market is that the browsers are not all tourists or floral arrangers. Sure, there were pairs of florists carting around thousands of flowers on trolleys and determining whether they needed more of a particular blossom to fully complete a particular arrangement, but in fact, most of the people browsing through on a Thursday morning were simply mothers with their children, picking bouquets for the dinner table. And for those uninformed in the art of horticulture, the sellers are there to answer questions.
Most of the sellers, however, do not speak much English. While the founders of the Flower Market were Japanese, most of the sellers now are Hispanic and will sometimes only speak a “Good morning” or “Good day” to you. An attempt to engage in conversation in English proves a bit more difficult.
As I browsed through a display of white lilies, the seller greeted me with a “Good morning.” At first, I cheerily responded with a “How are you?” but he simply stared back at me.
“Ah … good morning,” he repeated. “¿Cómo estás?” I smiled even broader. Yes! I completed Spanish 5! I could handle this!
“Estoy muy bien,” I said. Yes, I am very well. I can speak Spanish; I’m immersing myself in Angeleno culture! “¿Y tú?”
“Bien … si tengas algunas preguntas, estoy aquÃ.” OK, so far, so good. If I had any questions, he’d be there.
“Ah … OK …” I gave him another smile. He didn’t move. What more did he want? Should I speak more and prove that I know some Spanish? Did he expect me to say more? He pointed to the lilies in front of me.
“Estas flores cuestan once dólares y estes,” he pointed to a display of some pink lilies next to the white that I had also browsed through. “Cuestan doce dólares.”
I nodded and smiled again and muttered another “O.K.” Again, what else should I say? He still stood by me as if he expected even more.
“Entendiste?” Yes! I understood! I’m sorry it doesn’t look like I understand! Alas, I only had one way to respond: “SÃ … OK.”
He offered me another weak smile and walked away. I couldn’t help but feel as if I’d disappointed him somehow or as if I should have at least bought a flower, but I knew I didn’t really need a bouquet of white lilies for my college apartment.
Perhaps I should have said more or at least acknowledged that I wasn’t flustered by the fact that I had to flip through my mental index cards of Spanish vocabulary words, but I still felt enlivened by the experience and amazed that I could so easily access a small subculture of Los Angeles that completely revolved around appreciating flowers and the work that goes into taking care of and selling them.
Visiting the Los Angeles Flower Market may prove an opportunity to find some beautiful decorations or create a lovely bouquet, but go to the market not just to buy, but to explore.
If you would spend money on a bouquet of white lilies for your apartment, then e-mail Cohn at jcohn@media.ucla.edu.