Leaving NidArt and wanting to immerse ourselves even deeper into the normal rhythm of the town we headed toward the central market. Again, the fundamentals of life tend to show how cultures are more similar than they are different. I love this.
And I am realizing that this immersion is exactly what is missing when you take a tour. Along with the fact that you can't take your time stopping for the perfect photo.
Lesson learned.
Perusing the market with all it's great sights and smells, I wanted to sample everything. But silly, me we had just eaten...
so we will just look.
One of the things you often find in these markets is comfy cotton clothing. It isn't hand made or anything, but it is sort of signature mexico. I had tried on something several days before at a quick stop (from our tour) but can't make decisions that quickly so I kind of had an eye out for something similar. Then I spotted something that would look great on Bryan. I encouraged him..."this would be great for you"... just as a girl approached us to make a sale. Now unlike our friend Rak at NidArt most vendors (especially at the local market) don't take credit cards. Bryan realized after leaving the ship that he had left most of his cash onboard, and we had already used some for the taxi into town. As we spoke appologetically to the girl about our limited cash she thought that we were bargaining...the shirt was priced at 23 dollars.
Bryan had twenty and change and we needed to get a taxi back. So we started to walk away.
So the girl started coming down in price...
"No, no, you don't understand, we don't mean to be negotiating, we are really honesty short on cash and don't want to short change you..." We expressed. This was embarrasing.
So the girl went down in price again...
Now we are feeling kind of guilty when the girl lands at fifteen dollars...
"That's ok", she says, "I sell it for that much all the time".
We laugh, suddenly guilt free. Neither one of us make good bargainers. The last time we bargained for something was a trip several years ago in Marida, the item was a hammock and we got a great deal because the shop owner mistook Bryan's urgent need to find a bathroom (yes we got really sick that trip) for holding out on the best price.
Apparently it takes forces beyond our control for us to get a good deal.
Anyway, the girl seemed happy with the fifteen dollars, and we were thrilled with Bryan's new shirt.
The sun was beginning to get low and it was time to find a taxi back to the ship.
What a fun day... and we still had dinner on the ship to look forward to.
produce.
cheese.
pig.(who apparently died happy)
seeing me snapping the previous picture, the butcher grabbed another "head" to pose for a picture.
Our taxi driver whisks us back to "balco touristico". I have found (with very few exceptions) taxi drivers are the best people in the world. In florence, rome, dublin and now mexico, they continue to impress me as the most warm, friendly, and genuinely interested in you, often giving the best history of their region than any tour guide ever could(ok I know I need to get over the tour thing).
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