June 10, 2010
with Chinese merchants I've always had a say ... strange relationship, or better, can you change? surreal.
Years ago when I started to settle in our country, in the distant days when photos were developed, I lowered my camera to a store that had been riding in front. The first day, I get the photos developed, a china suddenly stood before me and I snapped this terrible sentence: "Albuncalete." I looked at her in surprise, wondering if maybe I was insulting Chinese. I do not know, just saw something in the pictures he had offended his sensibility, so grave, as well as to call it: "Albuncalete." In addition, each time I said it more urgent, even I was afraid I would grab the neck and shake. "Albuncalete", "albuncalete" he kept repeating. And I sincerely alarmed, I finally get down and protect your head with your hands. What a sad loss of life, I considered, in a china shop of photo.
Por suerte, un cliente que había allí, y que sin duda había pasado antes por la misma terrible experiencia, me aclaró que en realidad la china lo que me estaba preguntando es si, como regalo por el revelado de las fotos, prefería un álbum o un carrete.
-Anda, coño -dije yo, todavía tembloroso-. Pues no sé. Un álbum. Ese verde mismo.
Los tiempos y la fotografía digital acabaron con esos pequeños comercios chinos de revelado de fotos, pero en su lugar llegó la invasión de bazares. Ah, los bazares chinos, esos comercios en los que uno puede encontrar de todo, es más, puede encontrar aquellas cosas que prácticamente ya no se venden en ningún establecimiento.
I usually go shopping in these bazaars and in most cases it has played this curious relationship I have with merchants and slanted eyes. A little help to the dependents, in the common case, not know a word of English, which also takes courage to open a business under these conditions. Typically, people move in and put to sift through the shelves looking for what you want, then go to checkout and the clerk just says "a Eulo," "two eulos", "TLE fifty." On occasion, however, that scares me pass into the Chinese bazaars, because then I have nightmares at night and dream that I fall on those big vases, attacking me porcelain dogs, which encircle and suffocate me many objects of unspeakable beauty is in there. So the things I ask the clerk. And I have to make the sign.
My daughter loves to do puzzles and he once went to a Chinese market to buy one because I was told that there were very cheap. "Puzzle?" Chinese asked me with wide eyes. "Yes," I tried to explain the puzzle, "that thing that comes in a box, tiny chip, which is mounted y. ..". "Ah, yes, yes," said Chinese. And he went inside and brought me to a funnel.
hardware in things I thought would be easier to understand. I went to buy a hammer and told the Chinese the door he wanted to "bang, bang", and made the gesture with the hand hammer to drive a nail. I thought that this gesture could be universally understood. "Nail?" I asked the Chinese. "Or a spike, I like it." "Ah, yes, yes, and went inside and brought me a battery pack.
These things only happen to me. He told me the other day my sister who went to buy dried flowers to put in a centerpiece, these flowers that give odor. He looked about the shop but, not finding them, he told the clerk what he wanted. "Flowers ... dry ... so small ... they come in a bag ... they smell good." "Yes, yes, "said the clerk. And he got down a hallway and returned triumphantly with a roll of paper Albal.
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