Market Prices

I love the markets here in La Paz - the color, the variety, the shouting vendors, the smell - all of it. For me it's the most definitive experience of being in Latin America, and I lament the fact that we have almost nothing of the sort in the United States. Life in the streets makes things so much more interesting.

While I make it a point to wander the street markets, especially the ones beyond Sagarnaga, at least once a week, I do most of my shopping at the supermarket (Hipermaxi) near my house. It has nothing to do with the convenience of it being two blocks away, and more to do with the fact that things actually have price tags. In the markets, none of the prices are displayed, and it's expected that you don't take the first price for granted, and that you haggle for a little. For a La Paz native who knows the average price of fruits and vegetables, shopping in the market is great - you get extremely ripe and fresh produce for dirt cheap. But when I walk around the markets and ask prices, they take one look at my blonde hair and pale skin, and jack the price up 5Bs.

I know that 5Bs is nothing for an American, about $.50. But yet I still take offense to the change in price, and more than offense, it deeply bothers me. It's a complicated issue, really, that provides a bit of an ethical dilemma...and perhaps that's why I chose to go to the local supermarket and avoid thinking about it altogether. I understand that the extra money is not a burden to my bank account, and more than anything I know that the money is going to people who need it and will put it to a good use. I also understand that it is a fact that I am from the outside, and that I am intruding into a different society and economy. But at the same time, what gives them the right to treat me differently, and to judge as an outsider when I live down the street and when I am trying hard to learn about culture and practices?

It happened the other night when I was buying flour and sugar for a cake. I know the casera overcharged me, because I've seen the prices in the supermarket. Instead of being inspired by the energy of the market, I came away annoyed and upset. I hate that.

It's basically the same issue with photography, and it boils down to a long, hard history of foreign relations. I wish I didn't have to inherit that legacy. I wish I didn't feel better going to the Hipermaxi, because ultimately it's not stimulating the local economy in nearly as productive a way. But I refuse to contribute to the idea that it's okay to more-or-less trick foreigners into paying a higher price. Doesn't it make sense that if the people are demanding an end to racism and discrimination, that they stop practicing it themselves?

Oy, it's all so complicated that it just makes my head hurt.