My very first assignment for my food studies class was to explore an ethnic market, conducting interviews with employees and soaking up the cultural bliss that accompanies ethnicity-specific grocery stores. Naturally, I just had to wait until the last day before the paper was due to begin my journey.
As I walked down Rosemary Street with the specific goal of entering the first ethnic market I came across, I chided myself for having never entered one of the local markets before. The extent of my cultural grocery-shopping experiences have been visits to Trader Joe’s, where I leave with basmati rice and frozen potstickers. I really have no excuse, considering the cultural diversity of the area.
As soon as I saw La Tienda Hispanica, I knew I had reached my destination. Upon entering the store, I was immediately struck by the large amount of brightly colored piñatas overhead. Other than that, the store seemed quite similar to a condensed version of a regular grocery store. Customers are greeted by the sight of plastic-enshrined convenience foods on the left and produce straight ahead.
Of course, as I entered the store further I realized the distinctive differences: tortillas where the bread would be, fruit offerings like papaya, raw meat laid out under a glass front, gelatin in clear plastic bags. With only two aisles, much of the food was typical American grocery products with Spanish names. Then there were also the specialty items, like dulces and galletas familiar to those with a Latino heritage.
As I sought to find the perfect food that would encompass my trip, I finally realized that I stood out like an apple in a bowl of bananas. All of the customers and employees were speaking Spanish, and I was floating around looking lost in a sea of palabras desconocidos. Little did I know that the cultural barrier would be the least of my worries during my trip.
"Hablas íngles?" I asked the man behind the meat counter, keeping my fingers crossed. "Un poco," he replied. Dios mio. Despite my best efforts to learn Spanish in class and while volunteering, I am not exactly a conversationalist. Employing dramatic hand gestures and Spanglish phrases, I tried to convey my hope to find a quintessential Mexican food. In the meantime, I learned that Cipriano was not related to the owner, though he has been employed at La Tienda for several years.
Cipriano was completely willing to translate my Spanglish into something moderately understandable, helping me with the Spanish words I struggled to recall—- about every three sentences.
Then, I met el jefe, Raymundo. He barely knew any English either, so I got in a lot of Spanish conversation practice in thirty minutes. He recommended that I try tortillas con queso, though, unfortunately, I needed something a little more practical for my walk to work. Raymundo explained how he has owned the store for five years, after moving to Chapel Hill from Mexico. He took me on a brief tour of the store, stopping in front of produce to point out their fruity options.
That is when I saw a thick, green, paddle-shaped plant being scraped by one of the employees. Though I was fairly certain of the plant’s identity, Raymundo confirmed it. She was scraping the spines off of cactus leaves. Raymundo said they taste excellent outside on the grill, cooked with a little bit of oil. When I leave dorm life behind, I just might have to try that.
Finally, I asked about the origin of the store’s customers. The cashier said they come from all over: Venezuela, Colombia, Mexico, and El Salvador, to name a few. Their allegiances are strong. I think the appeal of La Tienda Hispanica lies in that diversity. They accepted me just as they accepted the way more fluent Spanish speakers who came before me.
Though I was unable to experience the same community feeling that I am sure customers who can communicate more clearly do, I felt welcomed by Raymundo and his employees regardless. As I left the store, armed with a galleta gigante that Raymundo called pan (unlike any bread I've ever tasted, that's for sure), I enjoyed the sweet taste of a new tradition, topped with coconut and a cherry.
