So do I, when I live in the land of independence and convenience. Sadly, I live in Ecuador right now. :) Well, not like it's always sad. But in the area of grocery shopping, definitely sad.
After a long day of teaching ESL middle schoolers, I walk to the store. Just down from the school, I see an Ecuadorian man come around the corner- SKIPPING! Please take a moment to recall the last time you saw an adult skip. This guy was wearing a suit and tie. It made me smile.
I climb the steps to the pedestrian overpass, trying to ignore the stench of urine [it's common here for men to whiz on the sidewalks, and the slightly-more-sheltered overpasses are, apparently, spots of choice].
On the corner I pass the lady selling produce out of her basket. One time I bought some avacados from her. This was before I learned that it's not uncommon for the street produce sellers to try to pass off their poorest quality produce to the clueless gringas. Like me. She sold me avacados that were so overripe that I ended up throwing them away. Every time I pass her on her corner I remind myself to learn the Spanish word for "cheat".
I enter the store and am pleased to see that it's not particularly crowded. I grab a cart and dig out my shopping list. Fruits, veggies, meats... I see what looks, at first glance, like stew meat. I pick up a package and look closer...hmm, could be stew meat, or could be some sort of organ meat. The word on the label is one I don't know. I consider asking someone, but realize that I don't really have the specialized vocabulary to say, "Hey, is this stew meat or some sort of organ meat?" in Spanish. Not a chance I'm willing to take. So I put it back and make a mental note to ask around for the words I need before my next trip.
I gather my groceries, with a couple more "I don't know enough" moments, and get in line. I have a particular gift for choosing the slowest check-out lane, and so I wait a long time to get checked-out (in Ecuador's defense, this was true in the States, too).
While I was being checked-out, I have a weird, surreal sort of moment. The cashier said a few things to me that I understood and replied to coherently. The same thing happened with the bag boy. It was all so strangely smooth that I thought suddenly, "I live in Ecuador. When I'm out, I speak in Spanish. And on good days, it works. Hmm."
Still feeling a smidgen odd about how normal my life here seems sometimes, I tell the bad boy I need a cab. He wheels my groceries to the sidewalk while I dig around in my purse for the $.50 tip I will give him once my stuff is loaded into the trunk.
Finally, a cab pulls up. I jump in and direct the driver to my address. He doesn't know where it is, which is pretty unusual. I give some more specific directions, and feel quite satisfied when his face lights up and he happily announces that NOW he knows where I mean.
We pull up to my gate without too much trouble, and he helps me unload my bags onto the sidewalk. I pay him, get my change, and move my stuff from the sidewalk inside the gate, so that it's not-so-stealable. I go through the standard internal debate: do I try to carry everything in one trip to the third-floor, or take two lighter loads? I decide for the faster option and nearly cut off the circulation to my hands in the process. I get inside, dump my bags on the counter and catch my breath.
I start to unload the food, getting out my big plastic bowl to decontaminate the produce. To avoid various and sundry amoebas, parasites, etc., you have to soak your fresh fruits and veggies before you eat them. They sell stuff here to do it, or you can use bleach. I prefer the non-bleach flavor. I set the first batch of green beans to soak and unload and put away the rest. I open some items and divide them into single-person size, re-wrap them, and put them in the freezer. Three more loads of decontamination and I'm done.
So there it is. I'm home and unpacked and have food. Now I just have to prepare some of it for supper!
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