Mercado

Aventura Piura, 11 October 2008

Saturday, market day. Yobani (la chica) and I got to the market early, some stands were not yet open. We did our regular route—-meat first, then the canned goods stuff, then the heavy veggies, like potatoes (2 kinds), onions, yucca, carrots, etc. After that we go over to the other area and pick up green veggies, broccoli, lettuce, beans, green onions, etc. Finally, heading for home, we get fruit: 3 kinds of bananas, small plums for a great juice (first time, they’re just coming into season), apples, pears, peaches, oranges, mango (not today, no good), pineapple, melons, and finally papaya. Yobani was very particular about her papaya, pointing to this one and that, asking the man to get just the right one for her. I was laughing at her. As she settled on one, I paid, with my last 50 soles bill (it was only 2.5 soles) and put the change into my zipper pocket.

We hailed a taxi and as we loaded it up to head for home, I suddenly felt a man’s hand slip into and out of my front left pocket. I yelled and turned around. He put his hands out to show that he hadn’t taken anything but I was sure he had my bills. I grabbed his hands and yelled some more, putting my hand in his pockets. All I found were some keys, so I gave up and he left. No one else did anything besides stare and ask why I had let him go.

I checked my pockets again: yes, he hadn’t taken my money because it was still in the secret zipper pocket. (Let’s hear it for Royal Robbins travel pants!)
Shaken, we got in the taxi and went home.

As Yobani was putting all the groceries away, I checked my pockets again. What’s this other set of keys? Whose are they?
Guess I ‘m the pickpocket!

One thing that impressed me was how quickly the whole thing happened and how I had no warning that someone would be trying to rob me. But, this is why I never take anything I don’t absolutely have to take to the market. No wallet, camera, cell phone, etc. Just the necessary cash and The List.

I have never had this happen to me before in all my travels, but everyone around here is always telling us to be careful. Yeah. All’s well that ends well.

After we got home, the young man who brings the big jugs of drinking water around (I refer to him as Gunga Din) came by collecting. It was 8 soles and all I had was a 10 sol bill. He said he had no change, but would bring it by after he collected from the neighbors. And, after about 20 minutes, there he was. He had even chased down the woman who walks around selling newspapers and gotten one for me. Peruvians come in all types. Most are kind and gentle and bewail the bad ones. I’ll remember the good ones, but still be careful!