Today I decided that I am going to make my favorite chocolate chip cookies this weekend. Monday is a feriado which is basically the Argentine equivalent of a bank holiday, so most of my housemates are out of town for the long weekend. It also means that I have to get the difficult-to-find ingredients today or else the stores might be closed Sunday and Monday and no cookies for me. So I set out for a trip to the Disco, which is the big supermarket chain conveniently located a few blocks from my house. But! The dietética next door was open. I knew they would have the things I needed. But I was scared.
The thing about our diétetica is that most of the things I need to buy there are behind the counter. So you have to actually ask the people working there for what you need and the amount. This is difficult because a) spanish and b) metric system. I've gone to the dietética three times. The first time I was alone. I wandered around and accidentally found myself behind the counter. I was mildly embarrassed and so I quickly left. The second time was with Chechu and we bought popcorn and had a pleasant conversation with the girls working there about horror movies. The third time I successfully bought honey and yeast to make bread. So today, when I saw it was open, I summoned up all of my courage and walked in.
I needed brown sugar. But here's the thing: it's not called azucar moreno here. That would be the literal translation and too easy. Brown sugar goes by a few different names in Latin American Spanish, so I was pretty unsure of myself as I entered the store. I had heard from another volunteer that it's called azucar rubio here. I also needed baking powder. Baking powder is harder to find here because there is a kind of flour called harina leudante which has baking powder mixed into it. I've been using that for baking, but with these cookies, I wanted to stick to the recipe as close as I could. Because they are so great.
So now that you know all the reasons I was afraid, I will tell you why I should not have been even a little bit nervous. I walked in and was the only one there. The guy behind the counter asked me what I needed and I kind of stammered out, "Tenés azucar rubio? Y polvo de hornear?" and he was like (in Spanish), "Yeah, we've got that. Am I speaking slowly enough? I want you to understand. Where are you from?" I answered his questions and told him what I'm doing here and he told me that he spent two years in the UK and he speaks English. So we chatted a bit about the difficulties of learning another language while he measured out the dry goods.
This is how most interactions with strangers go for me. Once they realize that I am a foreigner, they try to speak slower and listen more intently. Everyone is so patient with me and so helpful. I often think about the ways we treat foreigners in the US. I hope that we are patient and helpful. I fear that we are impatient and rude.
When I went to pay, I guess he didn't have enough change, because it didn't cost much and he told me I could just pay him next time. So I guess it's a good thing I got over my fears today because I have to go back on the regular now.
I'll let you know how the cookies turn out.
