Passively Shopping Until I Drop

         I am knee deep in a project slopping through the bureaucratic mud. There are many details to this project that I could write pages and pages about, but for your alls sake I will spare you. Instead I wanted to depict the shopping a experience I endured this last week. To give you a brief overview we are digging large holes in the ground (4mX1mX1m) to make worm bins, so that families can start producing their own fertilizer for vegetable gardens in their homes. We have dug seven out of eight holes, where 4-7 families will share one hole, and bring their organic kitchen waste to the shared hole. Each hole is going to be roofed with metal roofing, and each family that is participating is going to receive two trashcans for their kitchens to promote better trash separation. We have a Peace Corps grant out to finance this project, we being the town governor and me who I am working with. Thus I bring you up to speed on why there was a need for a shopping trip into the near by town to buy the materials.

        On Monday I went to the office of the governor and with luck found him in at his desk. He welcomed me in with his four fingered hand shake (he lost one of his fingers to a chainsaw) and then he tried to go on for the side cheek kiss, but I gave the clear stiff upright body language that says this is not how we greet each other in the small town setting, maybe in the big city its ok, but here the handshake is enough. We both sat down and I excitedly updated him that the grant money had arrived, and thus when should we go buy the materials? He looked up to the ceiling contemplating his schedule before declaring that he had a meeting in Chachapoyas (the near by town) wednesday morning, and therefore wednesday afternoon would be good for him. This worked for me because I to could go down before sunrise, treat myself to a morning of good coffee and internet, before dedicating the afternoon to buying our materials. I then asked how we were going to transport all these materials, to which we looked at how much we budgeted for this originally, and his eyes got really big at the measly 20 soles we put down,. This would only cover our personal transportation to and from the city, and did not include the materials. I guess we didn't really think that all the way through beforehand. He told me he would ask one of the local pickup truck drivers to see how much he would charge to make this special trip but surely it was going to be more than 20 soles. At this I left the office with another handshake and an agreement to check back in in the afternoon.

        As promised I dragged myself up from my afternoon nap and went to see what news the governor brought. He informed me that the pickup truck driver was willing to carry up our materials and promised that he could fit all of what we needed into his truck at the price of 100 soles. This was drastically over what we had initially allotted for and felt like a lot to spend on the transport of materials. So I suggested that perhaps the municipality (which is a different office than the one the governor works for) might want to help us out. I could tell from the way his body kind of shut down the governor was not a big fan of this solution, but he had no strong reasoning against it so I took it upon myself to pursue this solution. I walked across the plaza to the municipality where by some kind of miracle I actually found the town mayor in his office. I started the question as a hypothetical question of how much he would charge if he were asked to make a special trip to Chachapoyas to carry up materials for a project just to see if the 100 soles that the pickup driver quoted was fair. But my hypothetically tense in Spanish clearly needs some work because his response was to say that the town dump truck was coming up the next day, and there would surely be space for our materials. The town dump truck apparently always comes up on Tuesdays bringing resupplies for the local stores. Well this was certainly a positive sign that the municipality was willing to lend a hand for our project. The only problem was that the next day was the same day that all the government money for social programs arrives in the banks, and so all the mothers with children who receive this money would be going into town and waiting in line at the bank for several hours to receive their 200 soles, therefore there was no room in the cars to get down to Chachapoyas to buy the materials, as the dump truck was already in Chachpoyas. Fortunately the town mayor also offered us a ride in the morning in his truck. So I told the mayor that I would go check with the governor to see what he had to say about this new plan and then get back to him.

      As I explained my new plan to the governor I could tell by the look on his face he was not pleased. For one it was not as convenient for him to go on Tuesday for he would have to turn around and go back into town the following day for his meeting. Also he wasn't convinced that the town dump truck would really have room for all our materials. Finally I don't think he trusted the municipality to really follow through. But I made the point that if we went with the municipality we could spend the money we saved elsewhere such as a trip to the famous nearby ruins that the women in the project have never been to. He looked up to the ceiling to think, and I sat there in silence letting him process this change of events, waiting for him to say yes or no to the new plan. But an answer never came. I have found this happening a lot in my time in Peru, where if I want something that the other person doesn't really want to allow they have a hard time saying a direct no. So I sit there in silence waiting for them to come up with a strong reasoning behind their answer, and when they can't come up with one they usually agree to do whatever I am asking for. It is a long painful silence, but I wait it out. Finally when it is clear that the governor is not going to respond I step in and say that I have shaken hands looking the mayor in the eyes to confirm his agreement to help us out, and he made a commitment to take both of us to Chachapoyas tomorrow where we would meet up with the town dump truck and load up the materials that we bought. I reassured the governor that this handshake was a powerful contract. Just for security I went back and confirmed with the mayor one more time, and left feeling a bit guilty about pushing the governor, who has been working with me since the birth of this project, into this decision.

        The night before our big shopping day, my mom called me to check in. It was in this conversation that I realized I was a bit anxious for the following day. I found myself being a bit short on the phone, and felt preoccupied. I decided the best way to release my stress was to bake brownies to hand out to the people that would be helping me out tomorrow, plus I really wanted to pass my stress by eating some of the brownie batter! The next day at 6:30am I was just getting dressed after a shower when the governor called wondering what was taking me so long. In a classic situation I found myself hurrying up to stuff mushy slightly undercooked brownies in ziplock bags, and make myself descent, only to be waiting for the next hour until the car was actually ready to leave. The governor, usually a chatty cathy was unusually quiet on the ride down, and I could feel that he was not quite comfortable in the mayor's car. I still can't put my finger on what made the governor so uncomfortable, but I felt a little at fault for being responsible for this discomfort. Finally we arrived in Chachapoyas, a 40 minute drive of awkward silence filled by religious music. As we get out of the car I realize that part of what I was anxious about the night before is the fact that I would really have to let go of the day and allow the governor to make the decisions. I would essentially be obediently following him around all day. This made me nervous because I often didn't see reason in some of his decision, but I needed to let go of control. So I took a breath on the street and looked to the governor for the next directions. He then looked at me for the next directions, so we were at a stand still for a moment. Finally he whispers to me that I should ask the mayor how much they are going to charge us to carry up the materials. I am surprised at this since the mayor said nothing of the sort the other day when we set this up, but clearly it is expected that I ask. I can look back now and see there have been serval times where I just assumed things were free not realizing that it is custom here to not bring up the cost of services unless pushed to name a price. So I lean in the window and ask the mayor how much it will be for the materials. He doesn't have a quick answer so he responds that we should ask when we are back in Levanto saying it should be reasonable because the municipality wants to help, but also making it clear that we should pay something. With this settled the mayor jumps out of the car and offers to buy us a glass of this health drink that they sell on the streets here. It is essentially like going to a food co-op type place and getting some mix of grass shots. Before this I had never had the guts to try one, but they are very popular, and it was surprisingly delicious. However lets be clear it was a cup of liquid, NOT a breakfast!

        We thank the mayor and the governor and I head off. I assume we will now go get breakfast as I look forward to my two breads and sweet coffee, but that does not seem to be the case. Instead the governor proclaims that we have to head to the main office for governors in Chachapoyas to report in, and tell them that he is in Chachapoyas for the day buying materials for a project, and with good reason is not in his post of Levanto. In all reality I think he just wanted to show off to his bosses about the work he is doing in Levanto, and with every right he should. It was a good opportunity for me to be introduced to the government offices in Chachapoyas. On the way to the office visit we stop in some of the hardware stores and start sizing them up. We start by asking them how much they charge for their metal roofing material. Its not aggressive bargaining, like perhaps I would have jumped into, rather its patient withholding of information. We state what we are looking for and ask how much it costs. The store worker does not respond with a price but rather asks how many we want to buy. We answer by not stating a number but making it clear we are going to buy a lot. Sometimes I get over eager and blurt out that we want at least 53 slabs, because I figure that if the store owner knows that we are serious about our purchase it will help. However whenever I interrupt I clearly throw the governor off his game so I have to remember to hold my tongue and let the passive bargaining go down. We say we want a lot, the store owner asks how much and at this point sometimes we give in and state a number but usually we just smile kindly back until the store worker names his price and then the price that he is willing to go down to. The first hardware store proclaimed 17.50 soles per sheet of metal, but would go down to 17 soles if we were going to buy a lot. We say thank you and leave the store. The governor is clearly pleased as 17 is already below what we had budgeted for originally but he also clearly knows more than I do about this game. Each sequential store we go to names a price 50 cents cheaper. It is amazing, because we never come out and say 'well the hardware store before you named this price', but somehow every place we go to is slightly cheaper.

        This is how we pass the next two hours, from hardware store to hardware store passively bargaining, and each time leaving the store saying we will come back we just want to check down the street. Finally we land at the hardware store that is quoting the cheapest for everything all around, from the plastic meshing to keep chickens out, to the 1.5 inch nails, he is all about being our friend and giving us the best price. We agree that we can't find any cheaper and have him write up a receipt for our purchases. There is some debate over what type of receipt should be used, because if they write it on an unofficially registered receipt we can get it an extra few cents cheaper, which seems fine to me. So on the unofficial note pad he writes out our order, and I hand over the money. Once out of the store, I have many technical questions for the governor such as shouldn't we have checked out to make sure he really had the materials we needed instead of just writing it down on paper, and should we call the dump truck driver to coordinate the pickup, and shouldn't we stop for breakfast, but I hold my tongue. I want to be supportive of his decisions and give him space to make decisions. So all I say is, now where are we going to find the trashcans. We go to the famous bargain deal store in town that has just about everything you can imagine stored up in attics and top floors in some of the most unorganized fashion with no price tags. I had already scoped out trashcans there when making my original price estimates for the grant budget so I knew right where to head in the store for the trashcans. Despite my proclaiming my previous knowledge it was clear that the governor was going to have to hear this for his own ears, so we ask a store worker who points us to the third floor as I had already proclaimed.

        It is here where our differences in opinion become clear. The governor has one strong vision of what he wants the trashcans to look like and its very different from mine. First he shares that he wants them to be round and I wonder what the reason is behind this. I keep repeating like a four year old child, but why? But why do they need to be round? His response is consistently 'they just need to be round'. This goes on for more cycles than it really should before I shut my mouth. I then state that the organics bucket should have a handle because the families are going to have to carry them quite some distances. He then shows me how easy it is to put an empty trashcan on his shoulder to carry. I then ask him if a grandma could do that with a full bucket, but this does not seem to phase him. He then states that the organic buckets all need to be green, and the non-organic buckets should be a different color but uniform. I am realizing that the only buckets with handles are transparent with colorful tops. Transparent however for the governor is not acceptable because for one it is not green, and second it is dirty for the families to have to see their organic garbage. The one thing we do both agree on is that they must have a top. As we walk back and forth on the garbage can floor I am in a state of debate with my mind of how much I can let go and just believe that the women will be happy no matter what the receive, and when it is time that I really need to step in and state my opinion. I decide that the only thing I am going to put my foot down on is the handle, the rest I can let go of and allow the governor search for his perfect round container. However everything that has a handle doesn't fit his requirements. I then get the idea that a swinging lid for the nonorganic trash would be really great. These however only seem to come in rectangular forms and are too small for the governor. As we wonder through the endless plastics, not finding anything I continually have to practice my deep breaths. I break out my little kid whine at some points, then laugh at the ridiculousness of our disputes, and he laughs at my ridiculous very non-passive behavior, and I go back to my breaths.

        We are saved by the phone call that the dump truck wants to start picking up our materials. Admitting defeat at the one store that was supposed to have everything, we head back to our hardware store and meet up with the dump truck crew. We have the hardware store write up yet another receipt for our items, still with no sign of the actually items, but this receipt is for the truck driver assistant to present to the loaders. We give this receipt to the truck driver assistant who showed up before the truck and tell him to wait while we go back to our trashcan search. We are essentially asking one of the sweetest workers from Levanto to wait for our things and then load them into the truck, which he agrees to do with a smile. I realize this is my brownie moment so I pull out a bag of mushy unappealing brownies and stuff them into his hands as an act of thanks. He doesn't really know what to do with this gesture, but we are off on our journey before he can have any response. From plastics store to plastics store I trail behind the governor, each place not having what we are looking for. Turns out colored buckets with a lid and handle are not in demand. Rather most people use buckets to sell things out of from cheese, to hot coffee, and thus they want the bucket to be transparent so the buyers can see what they are selling. I finally see one round garbage bin with a swinging lid and drag the governor into the store. He agrees that it would make a good trashcan for non-organics, but the women doesn't have anything in our category for organics. She then states that her husband owns another store just like this one, and he has catalogs we could look to order from directly. We thank her and head off toward the store 'Edu's'

         Turns out we had already been into Edu's but Edu was on the phone when we first entered so didn't further question us about what we were looking for, and thus we left quickly. On our second time around it quickly became apparent that Edu was going to do everything in his power to make sure we bought our 80 trashcans from him. We look through his magazines and find the perfect bucket, which promotes him to call the fabrication and see if they are still making them. Turns out all three fabrications that he has numbers for only make buckets that are transparent, and thus we hit a road block. By this time my stomach is yearning for food, my mind is aching at the debate of letting it go and wanting it to go my way, and my feet hurt from standing up so much. We talk in circles about trashcans, we call factories, I make a dramatic re-enactment of a mother in a kitchen busily cooking and having a plastic bag in her hand and needing to throw it away, and the convenience of having a swinging lid. This wins Edu's vote in a heartbeat, as he proclaims to the governor that the gringa does have a point. The governor seems slightly more convinced to my side about the trashcans, but is mostly just confused about what options we are really debating over at this point. Edu lists out his prices for each type of trashcan we are debating, and I collapse in one of the plastic benches he is trying to sell. It is a debate that I see no end to, and that seems daunting. Finally I realize that the families will be excited no matter what trashcan they receive, and I realize that the governor is overwhelmed with options at this point. I can see in the governor's eyes that he is also weakening with hunger at this point, and our hangry states are not helping anyone. I sit on the bench, as Edu is deep into a story about how his prices are better than anyone else we are going to find, and to prove his point he stops a man selling buckets on the street to ask his price. I put my hands in my head, and realize that the governors passive respect is not going to get us out of the store any faster so I give up my letting go attitude and take on the American aggressive shopper attitude. I realize that in order to save ourselves from insanity I was going to have to make a decision with the options we had at this store. I order up the swinging top for the non-organics and settle for the small round trashcan with no handle for the organics. We then have to make sure the company can make the round trashcans in green, which luckily they can. Edu agrees to make the order for the amount that we need, and then he boldly asks for all the money up front. I am about to agree to it as long as I have a receipt, but the governor stirs from his hungry tired haze and demands that we will only put down 500 soles now and then pay the rest when the order comes in. So we wait as Edu writes out three more receipts in detail of what we are ordering and what we are paying.

        Finally at 1:00pm we are out of the store, the healthy energy drink of the morning totally worn off, and barely able to keep our feet moving, but with our purchases complete. The governor and I are once again on the same page in that we should head directly to find a car back up to Levanto as quick as possible. There is no confirmation from the dump truck that they have gotten our materials, but the truck is nowhere in sight when we pass by the hardware store so all we can assume is that it all went smoothly and they got everything on the list. With some luck we find a pickup truck that is ready to head up to Levanto, with just one stop to pick up some wheelbarrows. In amazing speed we fill up the truck and head off to get the wheelbarrows. However our luck only goes that far as the people to deliver the wheelbarrows are nowhere in sight so we park and wait. I am now hungry and in desperate need to pee. This is when I remember my brownies, however I feel too embarrassed to take them out as they are just mush at this point; so I sit there on an empty stomach and full bladder as the minutes turn to an hour. Finally desperate I proclaim my need to go to the bathroom and go ask at a nearby warehouse. They point me to their doorless bathroom which doesn't phase me until just as I finish peeing a look over as see that a women is sitting on the opposite wall watching me the whole time. With my bladder back to normal my hunger seems even more imminent so I take the plunge into the brownie bag, and proceed to offer up my brownies to everyone in the car, as is custom. They take what is offered, as is also the custom, and I try to convince them that while they look undercooked in fact they are quite good. We eat in silence until finally the wheelbarrows are loaded up and we head up the road. Halfway up the road I can't stop thinking about the other bag of brownies in my bag but I don't want to go through the ordeal of offering everyone again, so I proceed to sneak bites out of my bag killing my hunger but fueling my guilt.

        Once back it feels like a relief to be in the comfort of my own house, where I can breath a bit easier, and worry a bit less. Later that evening as we are playing volleyball out in the street, I get a phone call that the materials have arrived. I tell the governor that I will be down in a minute, but really I just want to finish my volleyball game. So I leave him waiting long enough for him to make a second call to see where I am at. At this point darkness had fallen over the court and so I leave the game unfinished and head off. The dump truck is there with the driver, the driver's assistant, the governor, and miraculously all our materials. I jump into the dump truck smashed up against the gear shifter in the middle and decide the only thing I can do in this position is blast the music and dance. We drive the 10 minutes up to the town where we are doing the project in good cheer that we have accomplished one of the many goals on our list in order to bring organic composting to 53 families!