Shopping In The Third World

If you’ve traveled in the Third World, you know how crazy shopping can be.

I’m in Baja, not Africa, and Baja is modernized enough (in places) to have supermakets. Not that they make shopping any easier. As you’ll see from this typical experience.

Though I dread shopping in Baja, yesterday’s morning was gorgeous and I vowed not to let the Calimax experience make me crazy. All I needed was a box of cereal, some milk, and bananas. How hard could it be? You’d be amazed.

First, there were the inexplicably narrow parking spaces filled by cars with dented fenders and doors. I parked around back. It was a longer hike, but far easier on my truck.

As usual, getting into the Calimax was also a challenge. When a gauntlet of exiting shoppers wouldn’t let me enter, I ignored the shopping carts smashing my shins. Not without some yelling, but you get the point. After fighting my way past a group of idle checkers and and store Security thugs flirting with them to the produce section, I didn’t get mad that a humongous container of watermelons blocked access to the fruit aisle. I’d grab my milk and cereal then circle back for my bananas. I was used to that.

I headed up another aisle towards the cereal only to see an overstuffed family turn in the far end. Enchanted by the cookie selection, they stopped in their tracks. Seeing me coming, they blocked the aisle like defensive linemen. I hung a u-turn to see my exit route plugged by clueless gringos asking a clerk where they could find toilet paper. In English. Loudly because the clerk didn’t understand them. Typical.

I eventually made it to the cereal aisle where another familiar nemesis blocked my way—a clerk restocking cereal from a shopping cart centered in the aisle. This was also typical. Two carts could pass in an aisle, but just barely, and a collision was only avoided when both parties cooperated. No one ever did. Which is why Calimax shopping carts are as heavily dented as the cars in the parking lot.

The problem: the cereal I wanted was on her far side. From the challenging glare in her narrowed eyes, she wasn’t about to move the cart. Not without a fight. I’m a gentleman, I don’t fight women. Especially when they outweigh me by seventy pounds. Thus, a stare-down as I approached. I’d already been in the Calimax ten minutes, my cart was still empty, and my patience was running out. No way I was gonna turn around. Not with the giant local family, eager for their own favorite cereals, putting on a squeeze play. Mistaking them for reinforcements, the clerk begrudgingly moved her cart. Narrowly avoiding a squishy death, I grabbed my cereal and made a run for it.

Giddy from success, I headed toward the milk. A shopping cart minus its driver blocked the way. Again, typical. I pushed it aside, got my milk and headed for the bananas. Imagine my surprise when no one stopped me. As I headed to checkout with my three items I tried to pick the shortest line. With twenty people lined up and only three of the eight cash registers open, there wasn’t one.

What seemed like an hour later there were only two carts in front of me! The first belonged to the clueless gringos who were now yelling at the cashier to try their credit card again—for the fourth time. The dispute heated up, Security was called, and as the clueless gringos were marched out of the Calimax I joined the cheering.

One more shopper to go. How long could it take? You’d be surprised, as was I, when the shopper pointed at a coupon. Seems there was a five peso price discrepancy worthy of considerable conversation. Eventually, store management was called to sort things out. This meant checking the computer, then a stroll to the aisle to see what prices were listed there. I offered to pay the lousy five pesos, several times, but to no avail.

Finally, my turn! But before I could pay, it was time to count the money in the register. Something that seemed to happen every time I shopped there. Ten exasperated minutes later, only an hour after I’d entered the Calimax, my meager breakfast supplies paid for, I hiked to my distant parking space. . .by that time, ready for lunch.