It’s sunny out and a little hotter than expected. I decided to take off the thin black sweater I had on and wrapped it around my waist instead. You shouldn’t leave home without a sweater around here. As soon as the sun sets the temperature drops into the low 40s and next thing you know you’re buying a black pleather jacket from a toothless guy on the street. Equipped with our cart, cash, and comfortable sneakers, grams and I set out walking to buy goodies for the week. Today is Saturday and everyone goes to la feria – the street market in Santiago, Chile.

¡Todo a cien!
¡Casera! ¿Que se le ofrece!?
¿Como están los niños?
¿Está bien su mama?
Le cuento que Don Hernán se murió…
¡Los mejores tomates!

It’s a narrow street were folks set up tables and tents with anything form house hold cleaners, to potatoes, berries, chicken cutlets, mussels, spices, cochayullo and if you’re lucky, you might even be able to check out a book at the mobile national library van. Grandma sees two of her life-long neighbors and tells them I’m her grandkid. “No me diiiiiiga” says shorter lady who was probably somewhere in her late 70s with short dark hair, thin, and dressed very nicely. Last time she saw me I was begging for candy and running around her house after a dirty cat. Grandma shrugs and smiles. We keep walking. A guy is selling eggs in a van to my left. Grandma says we should stop by there on the way back. He sells good eggs.

Grandma says we should buy chicken here. See the color? They’re fresh. They go buy them in the morning and bring them here. Hola caserita! Como esta mi amor? Una pechuga en filete por favor y otra en cuadritos para cazuela. $3.200 pesos. Ya, como esta su guagua? Bien, gracias. The man cutting our chicken has thick and stiff black hair, but it’s slicked back and well kept. He wears green plastic gloves and cuts our meat, weighs it and tells another lady to keep going and stop causing trouble. He hands the yellow plastic bag with the goods to grandma, his daughter working the stand with him takes the cash and we go on our way.

We should buy tomatoes from him, says grandma pointing at a stand with bright red tomatoes $800 pesos per kilo. They’re more expensive there but they’re better than the rest. The other girl there sells them for $500, but they’re watery and have too many seeds.

In the distance I hear a guitar playing and a man singing a sad love song walks past us while a little girl wearing blue jeans and a pink shirt follows him closely. She pulls at his shirt and he pets her on the head. The man collects money from the vendors. He keeps on playing the guitar, keeps on singing and keeps on walking.

Aspirina para el dolor de cabeza, antibióticos para el resfrío!
Another guy barely speaking sells aspirin and flu medicine from a basket.

Empanadas!
Yo quiero empanadas!

A young girl walks around with meat patties selling to the street vendors. She sold some and some she exchanged for other goods. I’ll take a kilo of tomatoes instead. Say hi to your mother!

Grandma buys bright orange squash, some kiwis, and eight oranges from another guy. They speak of Don Hernan who passed away this week. The guy mentions he saw Don Hernan’s wife the other day and that she wasn’t doing too well. I know, says grandma. I’ll call her again tonight. Say hello to your wife and I’ll see you Wednesday. Save me some good oranges. Chao casera!


We have everything we need. Grandma doesn’t buy lettuce at the market. She says they’re dirty and your tummy will hurt if you eat them. And we won’t buy eggs today. Dona Miriam brought some from the country on Monday and they’re in the pot next to the cat’s food. We should eat those first.

I don’t say much the entire time and just help grandma pull her cart around. My sunglasses are on and covering the tears that seamlessly streamed down my face. No one noticed… probably because I was smiling.

It’s good to be home.

Where have I been?

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