I never thought that my first diary would be about shopping, I thought it would be about some aspect of public land management. But the recent national debate about immigration reminds me why I shop at the Fruit Basket.
The Fruit Basket has 3 small stores in the north valley of Albuquerque. Each tiny, concrete-floored building has a small row of coolers for dairy products, and sodas; bulk-packaged spices and beans; basic canned and dry goods like toilet paper, flour, and oil; and lots and lots of fresh, ripe, fruits and vegetables. The dry goods are usually what we call NAFTA brands- like Gamesa cookies and Jumex nectar. All of it is unbelievably cheap- I feed my family of four on a Fruit Basket (vegetarian) diet for about $50-$80/ week.
The other shoppers, and all the employees at the Fruit Basket speak a lot of Spanish. Some, like the owner, and my next-door neighbor, have 300-year old roots in this neighborhood. I'm presuming from the Envios Dinero A Mexico signs posted in the windows, that some are more recent arrivals. Doesn't really matter--to them I am a strange outsider, with my insistence on walking there, my ecofriendly string bags, and my lack of Spanish.
When I began shopping at the Fruit Basket about 6 years ago, I always took note of how the cashier would have an animated conversation in Spanish with the person in front of me, then switch to monosyllabic, businesslike English with me. Frankly, I was embarrassed that I couldn't switch back and forth like that, that I couldn't share the laughter and gossip of my neighbors because of my incomprehension.
Over time, the folks at the Fruit Basket have finally warmed up to me despite my linguistic shortcomings. A lot of it is the children- seems like having 2 kids makes you normal in the eyes of almost everyone. And over time, I have worked on my Spanish enough (though I'm still too shy to speak it) that I can almost get the jokes, almost understand the stories. My English jokes always go over like a lead balloon.
In school, I studied French (ooh la la), and could still negotiate the Paris metro, if I ever went there. I studied Latin, and biblical Hebrew, and ancient Greek, which would be great if I got a time machine and traveled back thousands of years. I studied German, but Germans' and Austrians' English tends to be better than my German would ever be. I used to think that learning all those languages was a boneheaded waste of time, but I think a little differently now. Each language I learned offered me insights into a different culture, a different way of thinking. Each language offered me insight into nuances of English. Nevertheless, every day I regret not having studied Spanish when I had the chance.
I think it's wonderful to switch effortlessly from one language to another as like the stock boys and cashiers at the Fruit Basket do. I think it's amazing to see a preschooler beg for cookies in Spanish and candy in English as do many of the small children at the Fruit Basket (but not mine). I wonder every time I go grocery shopping why it's considered such a crime in America to be so narrow about language, so proudly ignorant and uncomprehending. So every time I shop, I recite my shopping list to myself, frijoles, platanos, cebollas, ajo, papas. Leche, queso, huevos, jugo de naranja. Someday I'll feel confident enough to join the conversation.