Day 232 Market Law

Saturday 27 Mar 2009

Two tall white gringos and one short brown chica ride with Juan to the mercado. We quickly finish shopping for meat, buying fewer than 30 soles worth of chicken, cabrito, and beef. As we’re heading to Andy Distribuidora, our second stop, we pass a young man sitting in a main aisle with a large basket full of refrigerator magnets and Teri stops to look at them. I ask her what she’s doing and she tells me she can use them in her classes because the figures are animals and vegetables. It’s apparent she is going to be awhile so Yobani and I walk on to Andy, where we buy things like milk, cookies, crackers, cereal, eggs, yogurt, butter, soap, detergent, toilet paper, bulk foods, and most all other packaged food.

Andy is on an aisle (8-feet wide by 75-feet long) off one of the main aisles (10-feet wide by 300-feet long) where there are several food distributors located and it is almost like being in a tunnel with boxes and locked cabinets piled to the ceiling 18-feet above us on both sides. His counter space is 20-feet long with ½ of it a refrigerator case and he seems to have six employees, two behind the counter with him, helping customers, and the rest stocking and filling the orders of bulk items like sugar, flour, and rice—the stockers are young men, just like at home. Behind the counter is a very narrow aisle and behind it are floor-to-ceiling shelves the entire length of the counter full of products. Sometimes there are one or two customers and sometimes there are as many as six all clamoring for Andy’s attention. We generally greet Andy and the order takers when we walk up to the counter, but if there are a lot of customers, like today, we may just nod and wait our turn, usually five or so minutes, at which time we greet our order taker.

The order taker has 3x5 order pads (blue for packaged goods and pink for bulk items) with carbon paper that slides between copies and she uses a pencil to write the entire order by hand, filling in the prices as she goes and shouting out bulk orders like “cinco kilos arroz” to be filled by a stocker dipping a scoop into a barrel of rice and dumping it into a plastic bag on a scale which he then twist locks and carries to the counter. She states the total, I hand her the money (usually a 100), and she places the order and the money next to Andy who returns the order and any change to her which she hands to me (usually less than 20). She then fills the order one item at a time, asking us for flavors like piña (pineapple) or fresa (strawberry) yogurt or a brand name like Oreo for galletas (cookies). She places all the goods on top of the counter and when the order is filled double checks every item on the pad with us by touching the item as she calls it off, then she bags them into medium-size plastic bags that Yobani in turn places in our own large reinforced plastic bags.

At this point in our shopping we have one reinforced bag full of meat and we add one or two bags from Andy so we hire a chico de carreta (a boy with a hand-dolly who comes around asking if anyone needs him) who loads the bags on his dolly. We all go outside, Teri or Yobani in front, the chico with carreta and food, and me in the rear where I can watch them. We go to fruit and vegetable stands where Yobani adds more bags to the dolly until we’re done, and then the chico helps a driver load bags into our taxi—all for one and a half soles. I like to hire one of the smaller boys, whom are plentiful, and I pay him two soles as long as he is attentive to his job and helps Yobani. Sometimes I will quiz the boy first by asking, “Estoy guapo en mi sombrero nuevo? (Am I handsome in my new hat?)” and he has to get the right answer or I don’t hire him.

Today Yobani has everything ordered at Andy and Teri still hasn’t shown up so I tell her I’ll be right back and I walk quickly to where we left Teri and she’s in the process of paying the clean-cut young man and now she has a small plastic bag full of refrigerator magnets. At home Teri tells me about the young man. He is articulate, friendly, and inquisitive; after they exchange pleasantries and chat for a while he explains to her that he recently graduated with a law degree from the local university but he cannot find work in Piura. His aunt makes the magnets in Lima and he sells them for her in the northern cities of Trujillo, Chiclayo, and Piura. Teri is appalled that a law school graduate is selling trinkets in the mercado and feels badly for him, so when the transaction is finished, she wishes him luck and says, “adios licenciado.” He looks up at her and a big smile spreads over his handsome face for “licenciado” is the term for a new lawyer.