This afternoon I decided to venture to my old neighborhood, up into the black market (real name: Mercado Negro). I have been wanting a pair of red, high top, Chuck Taylors and I was feeling lucky. My luck died after asking 10 stall owners if they carried a size 10. 8 gave me a quick NO, one said the pair I was holding (a size 7) was in fact a 10- do I look a) blind o b) stupid, the 10th said "yes", went to storage, came back and without making eye contact handed me a laced size 8. Seriously- do I look stupid. He didn't even react when I pointed out the clear OCHO on the sneaker. Just a shrug, and most likely he honestly thought I could make it work. He isn't the first Bolivian to try to convince me that I should wear an 8, that I am just making up my toes existence.
The afternoon was redeemed when I got on a mini bus with a "vocero" (boy that yells out the buses route) with an EXCELLENT lisp. THeis de Agosto, THan Miguiel, uno-THincuenta. A great moment. It's the little things that keep me sane.
In other news, I am growing less and less motivated to begin applying jobs from here. I mean if one more person mentions the economic crisis in a "good luck with that" tone, I may just never move back to the U.S. and take a job waitressing in Cusco. I am indeed aware of the odds against me, but then again hold strongly to the reality that when people lose money, social problems are heightened- therefore more opportunities in the "social assistance" field. I think I will be fine. But most of all, my lack of motivations comes from really desiring some time when i get back and not having to rush into a new job, city, apt, friend search, etc. I kind of just want to stand still and be. Maybe go for a run, breath some oxygen and sit by running water. Just the little things that keep me sane.
