the strawberry man.
March 26, 2008
On Saturday mornings a young man comes into the city to sell his strawberries on the street. I usually stop by after my run and buy 5.000 pesos worth. These are no ordinary strawberries. They’re perfectly ripe, beautiful, and still warm from the morning sun. The man always carefully chooses the ones that are ” las fresas mas bonitas para mi monicita” before he adds them to the bag.
He wasn’t there this week because of the holiday and I admit that I was a bit let down, but yesterday my strawberry man outdid himself. As I walked toward my apartment, the portero (what’s that in English? what is that word in ENGLISH?! Spanish is ruining my little American life! argh!) sorry, the portero, was grinning at me. “Que pasó?” I asked him and he just giggled and handed me a little bag of perfect strawberries. “El hombre regala estas para ti.”
I think this place is growing on me.
March 26th, 2008 at 4:23 pm
Ok Em, the Spanish guy I work with says that is like a doorman. Is that right? I was thinking more like a vendor on the street?? But…..you know me the one that took spanish in high school and college and can only say Hola!
Love to read about your days there! Your writing is wonderful. I can actually get a great picture with your descriptions!
March 26th, 2008 at 4:39 pm
That’s it! That’s it! Yes, doorman. Thanks, Dani! Now, I just wonder how my written Spanish is. Makes me nervous to know that you’ve got someone proofing it!
March 26th, 2008 at 6:31 pm
He just laughs at me for not knowing what you are saying haha! I just wish I could do that. Actually I wish I could even speak some Spanish!
March 26th, 2008 at 11:49 pm
Oh, every time I blog, it’s for you.
Especially today in this really gushy book review.