When in Rome…

…do as the romans. When in Sri Lanka, do as the Sri Lankans.

Why do I always pick the hottest day to go to the market? The market here is very busy and crowded. Some of it is open air, some is in a building. I leave the house with my shopping basket and walk, no not walk exactly, I saunter to the market. We don’t really walk anywhere here, or certainly not the way we walked at home. It is so much hotter that you really can’t walk quickly, thus the sauntering, or moseying or strolling.

So by the time I saunter to the market place, I am starting to feel pretty warm and a little sweaty. I do my shopping, mostly for fruit and vegetables though today I bought eggs, un-refrigerated of course. The egg seller gave them to me in a plastic bag and then dumped a bunch of grain into the bag to cushion them. Not a single broken egg when I got home and my friends here assure me that they never get sick from the eggs.

By the time I finish my shopping, my basket is heavy and I am sweating. Now I don’t mind sweat…I like to work my body outside, in the summer, but that’s exercise, this is grocery shopping! I bring along a bandana to wipe my face but I can’t really keep up.

By the time I start my walk home, I am really sweating and this is all while walking as slowly as possible.

Now contrast this to my shopping experience in Canada. At home, I walk fast. Why? Sometimes to keep warm, sometimes I’m in a hurry, but regardless of the reason I walk fast. It’s our worldview…we must accomplish things, and if you’re not walking fast, you must have nothing to do. And I would be so much more uptight. If someone were walking down that neat, clean, air-conditioned/heated, and very organized aisle ahead of me as slowly as I walk here, I would be tempted to ram them with my grocery cart. “Come on! I don’t have all day, I’m on a mission here!” Not so in Kalmunai, every seller wants to say hi (and wants me to come spend at their stall), so I greet everyone, and mosey along, buying oranges here, apples there, tiny red onions over on the other side and the small sweet bananas that I love at the end of the row. Then I head inside to my favourite stall to see if they have cucumbers or peppers or fresh mint. The only time I hurry is to avoid being run over by a trishaw. To those of you who’ve heard me complain about how I don’t like Superstore because its too disorganized and crowded… I’m guessing that won’t be quite so much of a problem for me anymore.

Today I had a couple of “helpers”, men who saw me and knew it meant a tip. They translated for me at stalls, helped me pick out the best produce and got their tip. I think one of them told me he lost his wife in the Tsunami, but I wasn’t really sure. The only word I understood for sure was Tsunami, which seems like a universal word. People often tell us their stories (which we don’t understand because they’re in Tamil) and once every so often, someone will yell something like; “Hi, NGO Tsunami?” to us as we pass by. Hmmmm how do they know?

Anyway, once I finish my shopping in the store a few blocks from the market which sells milk, crackers, cereal (for some reason the only cereal available here is cornflakes) and other necessities like chocolate, I start the sauntering back home. All the while fighting my natural instincts to hurry home now that my shopping is done. (Walk fast, this bag is heavy…oh slow down, its so hot, I’m melting…)

Anyway, by the time I get home, I’m ready to melt into a little puddle, and my skin tastes salt, and I have to have a shower, but that’s my shopping day.