Shopping Day

This morning we picked up our goddaughter Irma at 9. Her mother, Magdalena, gave us permission to take her to the market to buy her some clothes. Yesterday we had arranged for Rosa Viviana and Ingri to go with us to pick out, and bargain down the prices, for a traditional outfit for her.

Most of the women of Atitlan wear a blouse called a güipil (wee-PEEL), a skirt called a corte (COR-tay), a belt, and usually carry a shawl. Some prefer non-traditional clothing, and many girls don't wear traditional clothing because their families can't afford it. That's Irma's case. Even for Chukmuk her family is poor. Many of her classmates wear güipil and corte, but she's never owned either. She wears paca, or used imported clothing from up north. Many Americans don't know this, but much of the clothing we donate to thrift stores or drop in used clothing bins ends up being sold in the so-called third world. It's a good thing for the poor here because they can often afford a few changes of clothing. And here especially, where the amount of labor required to make even a simple güipil is great, and the price tag of $20 is beyond the means of families such as Irma's.

Sunday is market day, and we can barely squeeze through blocks of vendors and buyers. Rosa and Ingri take us to one stall where they inquire about size and quality and begin to barter even before we're interested. That's good, because it helps us to learn what the vendors will really accept. Had Geneen and I tried to do this alone, we would have been out of our league, and the vendors would have eaten us alive. Not only that, but we learn all sorts of things about which colors are appropriate, where the designs should end, how the neckline should be. We're in the company of experts.

Every time we stop to look or talk with a vendor, we clog traffic, but we're not the only ones doing so. Worse, not only are the passageways small, but there are vendors sitting on the ground with baskets of peaches and other things, and it's hard not to step on them.

After an hour or so, upstairs in the market building, we have found a corte vendor that both women are happy with. Irma has identified a pattern that she likes. I keep having her choose between one and another to make sure she really knows what she wants. She can be pretty quiet so I bombard her with questions. Rosa speaks to the vendor in Tz'utujil as Ingri translates for us. We can understand some of what's being said since so much Spanish is worked in to the native language here. For 300 quetzales, or $37 US, we buy a corte that is big enough to become 2 cortes for someone Irma's size. We have the vendor cut it in two -- one will be for Hilda, Irma's 12 year-old sister.

We buy a güipil, shawl, 2 belts (one again for Hilda), two pairs of shoes and three pairs of socks. Not bad work for three hours, and all for less than $100.

I ask the girls if they want pizza or regular food (comida corriente). Irma says she's like food. She has never heard of pizza. We decide it's time for her to learn about one of the world's most important foods, and head off to Pizza Utz (utz means good in Tz'utujil) where we stuff ourselves. I give Irma a brief lecture on how these two women are good friends, good role models, how she needs to work hard in school and become a teacher, anurse, an accountant or doctor, and that's that why we help her. We don't want to see you get married at twelve or working hard just to survive. there aren't many opportunities in Guatemala, but they do exist.

After lunch, we go to Rosa Viviana's house for Irma to try everything on. She is beaming with happiness. She's beautiful and proud.

Back in Chukmuk, we show her family the purchases. Magdalena is overwhelmed and breaks down crying. She says she can never repay us, and we tell her she does so by taking care of her children, and they they are very deserving children, being so well brought up. Geneen cries. Hilda is very pleased with her faja and corte. We walk home, savoring the day.

There is some chance the family will sell the clothing, but I don't think it's likely. Only if things were to get really desperate. And we'll hope, that with the little help we give, that won't happen.