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El Baratillo
Rosario had told me about a sort of “grey market” that her homestay father had taken her to a couple weeks back. The market is only open on Saturdays and is where things that have been stolen from other people are sold for huge discounts. She had even looked at cameras that very obviously belonged to other tourists since the photos on the camera were of foreigners in places like Machu Picchu and Sacsayhuaman. Anyway, she suggested I go to the market to check for my camera, so this morning when I felt better I decided to do just that.
My homestay sister Carmen and I wandered through hundreds of little stalls trying to find it. You can buy just about anything in this market. As we walked we saw a stall selling clothing donated from the United States and in the following stalls we could have bought empty baby food jars, wrench sets or power outlet covers. We saw everything from hand-carved wooden spoons to porn to rings decorated with swastikas to stereo equipment to brass knuckles. It was quite the experience—and not exactly an enjoyable one. There were thousands of people crammed into a street that had already been pretty much filled by the stalls. I’ve never felt more claustrophobic in my life! People in this country already have no sense of personal space, or so it seems, but when you put them all in one area like this it’s ridiculous. The children were the worst—they would shove past you just like everyone else, but the major problem was that they were at the right level to take you out at the knees.
We ended up being unsuccessful in the hunt for my camera. I hadn’t really expected to find it in the first place, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to check. It was the right idea though. Carmen ended up finding the phone that had been stolen from her a few months earlier. She’d since replaced it, so it was no use to her, but it was still pretty crazy that she found it. Maybe I’ll go back in December and wander upon my long-lost Sony… if only. Until then I’ll have to go to the Molino and find a cheap replacement.
To top off a most enjoyable outing (heavy on the sarcasm), I had another near-miss theft experience on our way out of the market. Carmen and I wove through all of the people and stalls, and just as we’re nearly out of the Baratillo maze someone spits on me. A huge loogie, on my right shoulder. A few people pointed this out to me and I tried to wipe it off. My sister freaked out, told me not to touch it and said to check my pockets. My jacket pockets had been zipped shut all morning long to keep this exact thing from happening, but when I reached down my left pocket was undone. Thankfully nothing had been stolen, probably thanks to Carmen and the fact that it was pretty tough to fit my wallet in my pocket in the first place.
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