September 18, 2010
I woke up fairly early this morning and headed to the market, set on buying a new shirt or hat. The mercado is a large area past the park where all types of merchants set up. You can get a new DVD, purse or a pizza. It's kind of like the Walmart of Antigua (only hopefully not nearly as oppressive).
I walked by most of the stores before seeing a t-shirt shop that sold both Che shirts and ones with the Gallo beer logo. I poked my head in and asked how much the shirts were. "Q50" (a little over $6.00) was the answer from the merchant. I smiled and nodded. Then the shopkeeper said something in Spanish, and I looked at him with a confused expression on my face. "How much do you want to pay?" he continued in English. Oh! He wanted me to barter with him. But, I quickly realized I didn't know the protocol for proper bargaining. So I just smiled and said, "no se."
Then he asked where I was from and how long I was staying. Before I knew it, he invited me to sit at his store, and we ended up talking for over two hours. He told me his name was Carlos, and that he was 26. He lives in a nearby town with his family (an older sister and a younger brother), and they own a couple of stores around town.
Before long, he asked me if I had a boyfriend. I quickly found out that, in Guatemala, if you're not currently in the market for a new boyfriend, it's best to say "yes," whether you have one or not. Otherwise the next question usually involves getting asked out on a date. But, if you say yes, you can generally just move on with friendly conversation.
He asked me if I had dated in the past, and I told him about my six year relationship. He asked what happened, why we broke up. And in my limited Spanish, I simply said, "queremos cosas diferentes" (we want different things), which, I suppose if you get down to it, that's probably what leads to the demise of every relationship: wanting different things. Sometimes you want to be in a different state, and sometimes you want to spend your time differently. And sometimes you just want to make-out with strippers.
He told me how he had dated a girl in Guatemala City (about an hour away from Antigua) for three years. They met when he was in high school, and she didn't like that he had to work all the time in the store. So they broke up. He said he would like a girlfriend again in the future, but for now, he thinks it's better to be single.
Then he asked about sex, which kind of took me by surprise. But, perhaps because it was in a different language, and he seemed pretty harmless, I didn't find it that strange. So I listened to his question and tried to provide some insight. He wasn't propositioning me in any way; I think he just wanted to know my perspective on sex and culture. I asked if he meant premarital sex (or as I asked in my elementary Spanish "sex before the wedding"). He nodded. I think he wanted to know what it was like in the US, how people view premarital sex (since it's fairly taboo in Guatemala, but yet something a lot of people seem to take part in). So I said that it's fairly informal for some people in the US, but that some people still take it pretty seriously. He nodded and said that, for him, there has to be love before it happens. Then he added, "well...it depends on the situation." I laughed and agreed. Had we been speaking English, I would have joked and said something along the lines of, "well, it depends on how hot they are and how much alcohol has been consumed, right?" But, instead, I just smiled. I'm learning to do that a lot when I don't know what to say...just smile. And it generally works.
We spoke about comedy and what my job is like before we moved on to discussing discrimination against indigenous people. He said that there's so much discrimination against them that it's hard for them to find employment. He explained that they usually end up selling crafts or doing other similar jobs, and they make less than a dollar per day. It's so sad to me that no matter where you go, one group always seems to find a way to wield power and oppress another.
Before I left, I taught him several English words to use at his store. I also got to witness how you're supposed to barter when two native Spanish speakers came into his store to purchase shirts. Oh yeah, and I did what I set out to do and I bought a shirt from him. I was torn between the revolution star shirts and ones with the Gallo logo on them. I ended up selecting a blue Gallo t-shirt and explained that I would come back for the Che one. After all, what revolution can start without having a beer first?
I left with a big smile on my face. One because Carlos was so forgiving of my incorrect Spanish, and also because it was the first time I really connected with someone in another language. And I suppose being the proud owner of a new beer t-shirt made me grin as well.
To view pictures of my trip, go check out my album on facebook.
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