The square surrounding the Mercado Central in old Porto Alegre is a noisy and jumbled mess of booths, stalls, street vendors, foot peddlers and barbecues on wheels. People shop, eat on the run, play music and hand out prayer tracts. It is typical of a marketplace in the South, with all the dirt and garbage such open-air activities tend to produce. As the sun sets, teams of young municipal employees appear. The vendors roll up their wares and the brooms of the clean-up brigade go furiously to work. Thirty minutes later, the huge square shines like a freshly minted coin.

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— Translation by Raghu Krishnan.

Editor notes: Quebec-based commentator Gil Courtemanche’s column is published every two weeks in Le Devoir. It appears at rabble.ca with permission.

Gil Courtemanche writes in French. As many of you read French, we’re offering you a chance to read Gil’s commentaries in the language in which they’re written. Please continue to let rabble know what you think of this approach.

Eh bien, gouvernez, maintenant!

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