On the Lighter Side

OK, I lied. I’m posting before Monday.

Donna Biddle, the coauthor of our future book about Nicaragua’s Nehemiah Center ended  her  email today saying, “My daughter and I just came back from our mall.  Do you think your mall will be different than my
mall?  :) 

Having just returned from a Saturday shopping outing, I responded, then realized blog readers might also enjoy my  answer to her question. Here
it is:

Yes and no.

Our first stop was the Managua market Huembo (pronounced Wembo, not sure how it is spelled) and it is a polar opposite of your mall--outdoors, canvas covered, sprawling, crowded, vendors hawking from tiny shops, watching us with intently and speaking rapid Spanish or pigeon English whenever we indicated the slightest interest in an item.

We actually went to Huembo by accident--miscommunication with our taxi driver who speaks only Spanish. Our hosts had told us Huembo is not safe unless you have a local person with you. We had subsequently learned, though, that it has a safer tourist section with souvenirs and an unsafe local market section.

After we got over the shock of arriving at the wrong shopping place, we asked the driver which side of the parking lot had danger (peligro) and which part was "no peligro." He gestured. We headed toward the “no peligro” section. He parked the taxi in the shade (la sombra) and we shopped.

Children tried to sell us their crafts made from a local grass. A sad-eyed beggar with a young daughter held out her hand. Food vendors pressed us with samples.

When I asked for a skirt (falda) and the shop owner didn't have it, she called loudly to a friend six shops down that I wanted a "falda.” That owner beckoned me over, ushered me inside, and showed me her wares.

Yes, I did buy a skirt. It was made in Guatemala, sigh, but it was long enough (hard for me to find here) and a neutral crème color.  Nicaraguan primary colors and bright flowers look wonderful in context, but they would scream at people when I get back to Pella.

When we returned, one skirt and one scarf later, our shopping companion Christina—a North American woman staying at the same guest house we are—remembered that the name of the mall we had intended to go to was La Galeria. We asked if La Galeria was near here (cerca de aqui). "Si" it was. So we headed there.

La Galeria is Huembo’s polar opposite. Except for the Spanish names, abundant guards and policemen, it could have been a US mall. Many shops were US chains: Payless Shoes, Hallmark, etc. We hunted unsuccessfully for a deck of cards, bought three double-dip ice cream cones (doble conos) for a dollar each—one for Marlo, one for me, and one for Miguel, our taxi driver.

Final stop was a SuperMercado (supermarket) for a few groceries. It is like a US grocery store with a few clothes, plants, and pottery items thrown in. We asked about a deck of cards there also. The staff told us they had no playing cards, but could have a deck brought in 10 minutes--with the Beatles on them. Cost: $7. We declined.

That’s the news from Lake Managua where all the weather is warm, the children are grass artists, and the shopping is both below and above average.