January 16

As the saying goes,

, “no good deed goes unpunished.” On Tuesday, after school, Truus and I decided to avoid the big, shiny supermarket  in our tony neighbourhood (with the helpful assistants and security guards), and go to the “Mercado Centrale” –  the big central market area in a poorer area of Santiago

Mercado Central has a main hall where most tourists go to visit. There are also large covered market buildings further on where only the local people go. The produce there is fresh and slightly less expensive. Wanting the authentic experience (and, being Dutch, the cheaper prices), we ventured on into the broad environs of this place, awash with the smells, sounds, and latino rhythms that one associates with South America. The people who work here and frequent the market are the working poor, the socio-economic underbelly of Chile.

We spent 90 minutes walking through the market, buying stuff, and interacting with the vendors. This is a practice that I’ve done in many, many countries that I’ve visited – helps to give you a sense of the place. Also reminds you of the economic realities for people living in a country where the chasm between haves-and-havenots is yawning.

Somewhere between leaving the market and our commute on the Metro subway system to get home, I noticed that my wallet was gone. I had been pickpocketed. My button-down khaki pocket was undone and my wallet taken from my pocket without me noticing. Quite an amazing bit of latin-lightfingery. The thief could have grown up to be great surgeon, based on his/her dexterity. Truth is that I have no idea who did it – gone in 7 seconds or less. 

Won’t get into the details (not fun) of trying to cancel cards, etc. It’s all more or less arranged now and is fading in our rear-view mirror. I will say that the Chilean people showed us great kindness after the fact. Strangers were volunteering their cell phones so we could call. The empathy was universal, and we got many tips on how to avoid problems in the future. My teacher at school apologized on behalf of the country for our loss.

I had a premonition of this event on our morning walk to school. At a crosswalk that we pass there was a young guy juggling 4 soccer balls at once, tossing them all in the air in a high arc without moving his feet, whilst balancing a fifth ball on his forehead. Then he switched to 3 balls and controlling another ball with his feet, flipping it over his head and kicking it back the opposite way with. a scorpion heel-kick to bring it back to his toe, where he cradled it.

The juggler was thin and smallish. He did his tricks during morning traffic to earn money for himself or his family.  If this kid was in Canada, he could have been a national team soccer player. I thought of the injustice and waste where someone’s potential could be summarily limited. Welcome to Chile. Some info for the pics: a couple of pics were from the Mercado, inside outside. We crossed the road and heard loud singing and people throwing flowers on a car. First we thought it was a wedding but soon we realized it was a funeral. Last Darren eating his first empanada and alcoholic drink: pisco sour. Empanada soso drink great!