Toilet paper & Goldfish

Sitting in la Plaza de la Independencia this morning, watching throngs of people walk by. Sundays still seem to be relaxed; thousands out enjoying the street performers, eating ice cream, going to or coming from church. A man sat down beside me and struck up a conversation. The fact that I couldn’t understand most of what he was saying didn’t seem to deter him one bit. Wonder of wonders, I soon got the essence of his meaning. Money well spent on Spanish lessons.

Everything you can imagine is for sale by street hawkers, and for the most part they are focussed on selling to locals, not tourists  Most of this stuff is available in shops so I can’t for the life of me figure out why there’s a market for it on the streets. Unless it’s stolen. Toilet paper, single disposable razors and poor helpless goldfish in tiny plastic baggies. On Esmeraldas Street, men and women sell their bodies, not far from the Indian restaurant that I will check out tomorrow. In a coffee shop on the square, a group of school students on a tour; the young woman seated next to me was from Nunavut.

Musicians (bought a CD), artists (had to tear myself away because I just can’t carry a painting, however small and beautiful), leatherwork,jewelry, blankets, shawls interspersed with all manner of junk.

Back at Juancho’s comfy apartment, high up on the balcony, drinking coco tea and watching my laundry wafting in the breeze. Neighbourhood children squealing in delight.