Tres Mercados

I spent the first month and a half completely transfixed on exciting new food items every time I went to the grocery store or any market in Mexico. They sell pre-toasted bread for chrissake. And who doesn't want to try out all the cookies produced in another country? Nowadays, shopping is a different task entirely. I still get overwhelmed, so I bring a list. My list for today looked like this: avocado, tomato, lettuce, shrimp from shrimp guy, Jesus candles, lighter, milk, eggs, chicken?....and so on. It's not a whole lot different than when I'm in Venice actually, except for the lack of fishmongers and less of a need for Jesus candles. Of course no one store has everything. It takes multiple stops that piece together like a puzzle - milk at the last stop because it's hot might mean buying it at the store that always smells like rancid meat...hot milk vs. rancid meat...what to do. One store, the store Jody and I affectionately named, "the store where no one likes us" has the best tortilla chips, kitchen things and canned goods. My special stop there included the purchase of a kettle. The 'government store' has the best wine and personal soapstuffs. Water can be had at any of these places, but I like to get it at the market where no one likes me because they get so annoyed when I carry it up front by myself. "You know we have someone to do that for you?" she grimaces at me in Spanish. But since she already doesn't like me, it's my little joke. They just shake their head and call someone who puts it in my car. I say thank you, far too many times - especially for a place where no one really says thank you so often. Then, one of my other stressful moments - how to be polite upon departure. They say, "que la valle bien" -- which is I think similar to "safe travels". Though, she clearly couldn't care less about my travels, so I have to believe she does it just to watch my absolute inability to conjure a reply. "Thanks" is what I say, but again they just shake their heads because only Whitey says thanks that much. My favorite market, Mercado El Sol II (NOT Mercado El Sol I, which is on the south side of town) will always hold a special place in my heart. I remember the first time I visited Todos Santos, we passed it at night on the way to a friends house. I thought it was damned far out in the middle of nowhere and we should probably stop in to get some more beer because anywhere we were going certainly could not have enough to last us through getting back. I can almost see it from my house now. It's my own personal Seven Eleven. Some say it has the better selection of wine. But I still like the answer given to me by a local musician when I asked, "Where's the best place to buy wine around here?" She gave me a dull monotone, "Cabo." Check. Also on the stop today was the organic vegetable store - which has both nice people and good, cheap vegetables. Who knew? How did this place come to be? My bill was $5. And she even struck up a conversation with me as if there was a possibility I would understand. These are the people I want to hug. At the end of my rounds, I swung back around to look for the guy with the coolers full of seafood in the back of his truck. He parks in the same spot on Fridays. I just caught him and found out that the going price for a kilo of shrimp on the street is $7, but I got it for $5 and change because I didn't have any smaller bills and couldn't find my change fast enough. I can't tell you how many times these men just shake their heads at me...like they can't decide if I'm stupid because I'm white or because I'm a woman or both. My stage fright of basic math skills on demand continues and the funny money doesn't help. I am solid on the big bills, but I have yet to figure out the change I get back. My final stop was El Sol II, the only place that sells half and half, where a big horsey white woman in front of me was rattling on in a mix of English and Spanish to the 19 year old cashier, "Oh no! I thought you were going to give me a bunch of CEN-TAHH-VOS." The girl looked at her with a blank stare and then at me. I tried to make it clear that I wasn't claiming her white ass as part of my race either. A little more stressful than Whole Foods, but barely. At least I know I don't speak the language here.