As I turned onto Packing House Road, my stomach formed into a large knot. Everybody walking around was Hispanic and it finally hit me that I was going to have to speak full on Spanish here. It is ironic that despite my Hispanic appearances, I felt totally out of place and uncomfortable. I didn't realize how bad my subconscious prejudices were and I felt guilty.
I decided to walk around a bit to get to know the place. It became clear that is was predominantly Mexican from the mariachi music playing in several shops and the large sombreros being sold everywhere. I felt the need to hold my arms together while walking by the men. I felt their eyes piercing through me and felt like puking. Unfortunately, no matter if their intentions were good, my experiences have led me to feel that all Hispanic men are sexual pigs. I started sweating, partly because it was super hot in the outdoor areas, but also because I was stressing and my heart beat was increasing.
I then stumbled upon a surprising heaven. A huge section of the market was for produce and when I saw it from afar I immediately thought any of the fruits were going to be spoiled and/or dirty because it was a very low class area. However, as I got closer I realized that I was terribly wrong. I have never seen such beautiful fruit and vegetables in my life! Everything was plump and juicy and looked like it was on steroids. On top of that, it looked super clean. In the middle of this broken down, dump site looking flea market, there was paradise. I was pleasantly surprised. (I also walked out with half the produce later :D)
I saw a few stands selling food, so I decided to have lunch before I found someone to speak to, partly because it was the appropriate time and I was kind of hungry, but also because I was trying to stall and calm the knot in my stomach. I saw a Salvadorian stand and decided to try a pupusa because I have never even heard of it. It turned out to be a fried arepa with cheese and chicharron (fried pork) inside. Yuuuummmyy!!! The man who served me looked my age and I was curious to ask him questions, but I was eating and he was busy, so I just told myself I would look for someone else, preferably one of the vendors.
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| pupusa :) |
"Hola," I said. The single word coming out of me like a total gringa and drying my throat up. I got nervous again. She spoke with me, but at first it seemed like she definitely didn't want me there. Her answers to my questions were no more than two words and there was awkward silence and tension because I choked as I spoke, not because I don't know how to speak in Spanish, but because I got so nervous I kept stuttering. I thought she was going to burst out laughing and tell me to go home because I didn't belong there. I even asked is she spoke English to see if I could get lucky, but I was SOL. But then, a miracle happened. I asked her where she was from and she replied El Salvador. I got excited and told her I had just tried a pupusa to find common ground. She smiled and asked if I liked it, and where I went to get it. Then I found out that her son works at the stand where I ate; he was my waiter. What a coincidence! From then on, the conversation went smooth because I forgot that I was speaking Spanish, and she got comfortable with me. We shared laughs and sat there together for half an hour, maybe more.
Her name is Maria Villatorro and she lives in the area. She works there every Saturday and Sunday with her husband from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., and they have been working there for 15 years. Her sons, a 17 and 18-year-old recently started working with them. Her husband turned out to be the man in the wheelchair next door. He was hit in a car accident in 1994 by a drunk driver and is paralyzed from his lower back down. She was in El Salvador and pregnant at the time, and rushed to the States. I told her I admired that he still works because I know many people with that kind of disability almost stop living. She told me she is very proud of him because he never lets anything keep him down. He had a car made so that he can drive around independently, and is the one that gives people rides. He has never missed a day of work and always has a smile on his face. I didn't tell her this, but I also admire her for staying with him, because I also know a lot of women that would leave.
Monday through Friday she works at a plant nursery. However, she likes working at the market better because it's less sun. I asked how she started working here and she told me that she used to come to help her husband who sells electronics, and one day the lady that was working where she is now left. She saw the opportunity and decided to rent it out and put up basic needs things for sale. She says that people don't always have the money to buy electronics, but they always need to buy the basic neccesities. Even so, she told me that Saturdays are extremely slow, to the point where she'll only get a customer or two. Sundays, however, are busy.
I continued to ask about her sons and how it's a family business. She said she enjoys having them around and prefers them being there and being productive, than sitting around the house, not knowing what they're doing. She also told me it's extra company because they come visit her in her stand. She is shy so she doesn't speak to many other vendors except the ones in her line. She says it's hard to make community there because everyone is busy trying to sell there products and every "shop" is separated by walls. I asked if they have lunch together, but they don't because everyone goes to lunch at different times. She does have lunch with her family though. In perfect timing, one of her sons came by to visit her.
It was the younger one, Denys. He is in 10th grade at Homestead Senior High and his brother is in 11th. He did speak English and as he saw my FIU shirt, he started telling me how he is super interested in going there for the engineering program. I'm big on school spirit and pride so I got excited telling him all the things I love about FIU. Denys works with an icecream cart and pushes it around all day. He says it is tiring and "it's not like I enjoy it but I got to help my family." I asked if he misses being able to go out on the weekends, but he said it's not too bad because his friends come visit him every once in a while. He also knows all the vendors because he gets to walk around the market all the time. He doesn't exactly have lunch with them or anything, but he passes by to see what's up. He likes to visit his mom, and says his family is very close.
I thanked them for their time and told them I'd be back in about a week to see how everything was going. I can't wait to go back because I fell in love with the family and have been thinking about them everyday.
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I got home that afternoon and felt DEAD. I immediately knocked out for a 2-hour nap and when I woke up, I thought about how the family, and I suppose everyone else who works there, is there all day, some every day, standing around, working in the beaming sun. I realize how blessed I am to not have to work like that, and also to be able to go out on the weekends. As I write this, I'm eating some seedless grapes I bought from another teenager before I left the market, and realize they're the best grapes I ever tasted. I'm super happy that I went and can't wait to go back, hopefully this weekend. I feel a little closer to the Hispanic community, and have even been speaking Spanish around the house. I appreciate our culture and hard working values. Yo soy hispana y por la primera vez, lo digo con seguridad y orgullo. (I'm Hispanic and for the first time, I say it with security and pride).
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