If there’s one thing I want to get better at (not including language, thats’s the biggest one) it’s the Mexican way of shopping.  It’s different than in the states, where I am from.

Yes, there are big stores like walmart, but it’s more economical to shop the traditional Mexican way.  And, it’s more fun.

Within walking distance to your house you might go to the tortillarilla, to get fresh tortillas. The carnicaria, to get whatever you need from the butcher, bones, chicken, beef. There’s a guy with a little cart making keys if you need one. Stop by the mercado for fresh fruit and vegetables. If you want a bottle of wine you go to the Licores store, or baked goods, the panaderia. 

It’s a lot of little different stops but you’re walking so it’s easy and fast. You get to know your neighbors and their businesses, and they get to know you.  Food is fresher and tastes better because it hasn’t been sitting in a warehouse or truck for days or weeks. I love it!

And it’s less expensive, in my experience.

I get a little shy in the mercado.  I guess it’s all the people around, looking for things, asking for things, bustling together. My Spanish is not too good and, though I’m comfortable with bargaining, I don’t know how much things are supposed to cost. I just got to the area. So I don’t know if I’m being “gringo priced” or whether I should bargain the price down. 

Luckily, I feel like I’ve only had the “gringo tax” in my first week of arrival in Mexico, on the coast, but since then I think it’s just been the price you pay for goods, Mexican or foreigner.

(As a side note: I’ve taken several taxis in Guanajuato and SMA. I always ask how much before I get in. It’s always been the same price, which makes me think it’s the standard price, except once. One driver tacked on an extra 10 pesos, no big deal. But that was his tip so I ended up paying the same.)

So, I’m walking Centro (and amazed at its beauty) when I come across the mercado. It’s a covered space with a labyrinth of stalls selling everything from vegetables to souvenirs, clothing, hats, shoes, flowers, meat, and plenty of fondas doing good business with people having lunch at their counters.

This mercado is smaller than the one in Guanajuato and as I wander around, it seems a little less intense. I was going to go to the big super market soon but why not get what I need here?

An old woman had caught my eye on my first round around the mercado so I went back to her. Her produce looked great and, though I didn’t know the word for it, I asked for cilantro.

She understood (I think it’s called the same in Spanish) and brought out a long woody bunch of cilantro taking off the leaves at the bottom.  I managed to say “no, that’s the part I want” meaning instead of the long woody parts that had gone to flower.  She explained in Spanish that the long part had more flavor and that many Americans like it.  I say, ok give it to me, and pick out some tomatoes, onion and jalapeño.  

She is still talking about the value of the stalky part of the cilantro plant while she’s bagging up my buy.  Her old husband is handing her things like a bag for me. 

I put the bag up to my nose and say it smells good (and it did) “huele bien”.  He smiles and corrects me “huele bonito!”  I understand the amount I owe and pay and say muchas gracias, and there are smiles all around.

Success! No one got irritated with my lack of communication skills or taking too much time to explain what I want. It was all fine and my bunch of stuff was only 30 pesos.

Luckily for me, Mexicans are known for their kindness.

I felt boosted by this so when I saw a young woman selling churros right outside the door of the mercado, I smiled and said to her “I’d like to try a churro”  At least that’s what I was trying to say. I may have said “I need to test a churro”.  She looked nervous and said she didn’t have anything I can test.  I corrected myself and said I need to BUY churros and she relaxed and took my 30 pesos with a smile and I chose my little bag of fried dough.  

I then spent 30 pesos for 4 fat gorditas I bought from a lady in the street. I didn’t know what a gordita was but I wanted to try. It’s made out of corn, tastes a bit like a tamale, and has something in the middle. The ones I  bought seem to have some kind of red pepper. Yum!

So for produce, gorditas, and churros I spent 90 pesos. That’s about $5 USD. Is that a good deal in Mexico? I don’t know, but it’s ok with me.

Later in the week I went to the La Comer for more shopping. We got our first real storm in Mexico on the very day of our 3 monthaversery of our journey. Rainy days make me want to cook, so I decided to see if one of my favorite recipes could be converted to what I can buy here at the La Comer. 

I think I found what I needed, except I usually buy cans of great northern white beans, but they didn’t have canned beans, except refried.  So, I bought some small white beans and have to soak and cook them.  I translated the label on the bag of beans hoping they were great northern white beans. They were Alubia chica: small beans.  And they were white.

Also, surprisingly, I couldn’t find canned chopped peppers unless they were jalapeños, so I got 2 big fresh poblano peppers to sauté with the onion and garlic.  Oh well, we shall see how my white chili turns out. It’s more like a white bean chicken stew but whatever.

P.S. The white bean soup turned out better than ever! The fresh poblanos really made a difference.

My embarrassing shopping experience:

My day began with a trip to the “super market”. I confess that I have not yet learned to shop the traditional Mexican way, and am relying on the market which is 4 blocks from our house. Going shopping in one store is what I’m accustomed to and it’s easier for me, though probably more expensive this way.

I feel comfortable in this store, there are no surprises. I know where to find what I’m looking for, and the cash register is really my only interaction with people.

I got to the head of the line and put my things on the conveyer belt. It was more than I had anticipated buying considering I had to walk it all home.

The unsmiling young man behind the counter was in a wheelchair and said something to me real fast. 

I said “I’m sorry I don’t speak enough Spanish to understand”.

He said don’t worry about it “No te preocupes”  Good. It was probably a rewards program or something.

He rang up my stuff and by this time there were 15 people behind me waiting to go through the cash register. I was bagging my things in my little red shopping bag.

He, again speaking very fast, told me the total and I handed him a $500 note. I didn’t catch the total number he said but I thought it couldn’t be more than that.

He looked at me from his wheelchair and said something like, do I have 15 pesos? Frequently a cashier will ask for change to round out a figure so they have enough change to accommodate the purchase.

I felt my pockets and found no change. I said, sorry, no.

He continued looking at me.

I was aware of the 15 people behind me waiting, looking at me, looking at him.

I became cognizant that perhaps I wasn’t understanding something.

OH! The bill was higher than I thought!

He was asking for the money I owed for my purchases and I was saying no.

I knew I didn’t have any more cash on me, but I had brought a couple of bank cards in case I came across a bank ATM. I whipped them out of my pocket and said excitedly

“I can use tarjeta!”

He looked at me suspiciously and looked at the card.  I understood him to say “you have the password for this?”

I said yes!

Thank god it worked, not always the case in different locations in Mexico, and my embarrassment was over. He even gave me a half smile as I left.