La pomme espagnole

Mercado Maravillas, in Madrid

This morning, just like many other Saturday mornings, we went to the market. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this before, but I live next to the most amazing market in Madrid: El Mercado Maravillas. Wordreference translates maravilla as wonder or amazement, and that is exactly what I feel every time I walk in. You can find anything here, whether it be fresh fish, beautiful seafood, vegetables, rare cheese, bulgarian sausages, indian spices, weird chicken parts, cow tongues, amazing olives you’ve never heard of… I could go on forever.

Tongues

Seafood stand

But what is so amazing about this market is not just the food. Its the people. Once you’ve found a stand that sells products you like at a good price, you start going there often. And the people who serve you remember you. By now, I’m on a first name basis with my vegetable guy, my cheese guy, my bread lady, and i’m working on getting to know the fish and meat guys better. Why is this so important? Well the benefits are endless. For example, maybe the peaches aren’t great the day I happen to be there, but Ismael (the fruit and veggie guy) will save me some good ones for the next time I stop buy. Of if he thinks his cherries are exceptionally good, he will give some to everyone to try.  It’s also a really great feeling when your cheese vendor asks you about your family back in Canada and your fruit vendor says he wants to meet your mom and have a chat with her.

José the Fish Guy

However, there is one thing that I cannot stand at the market. This seems to happen mostly on Saturdays, and today was especially bad. When everyone in the market is in a great mood, sellers and buyers alike, all of this cheerfulness can be taken away by one kind of person: the old lady. The old lady is pushy, rude, and she always gets her way. What’s that? There’s a line and you were here first? The old lady doesn’t care. She uses her little old elbows to sneak past you and claim that she was there first. Her most common trick is to tell you she only wants one cucumber, that it will be really quick. So of course, being a decent person you let the little grandmother go ahead of you. But suddenly she remembers that she also needs some lettuce, and an apple, some bananas, some garlic, oh and some lemons too! Too late you realize that her “quick” order is actually taking 20 minutes. Too top it off, after having packed her cart with the last of the bananas that you really wanted, she walks away rolling her cart over your toes without even apologizing. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why you should NEVER trust an old lady at the market.

Yes, I sound like a horrible person. But I swear I’m not. I believe in treating your elders with respect, and helping them out whenever you can. I always give up my seat on the metro to anyone who needs it, and I help the lady in my building carry up her groceries. But how can I treat these old ladies with respect when they have absolutely none for me? When they walk around as if they own the market, and everyone who is in their way should bow down to them? Next time someone runs over my foot with a cart, or elbows me out of the way, I want an apology!