Mindfulness Moments at the Fruit Shop
Simple connections in "la frutería" that are the constant highlights of my week
This morning after yoga I walked to the fruit shop that is located conveniently one block from my house and three minutes from my yoga studio. One of the many perks of living in the city, everything I need is within a 10 minute walking distance. The owner, Juanma, and I have been friends since day one when I first walked into his shop. It’s not just with me, Juanma is a popular guy in our barrio and friends with all who walk through his doors.
To Juanma, every person who graces his fruit shop with their presence isn’t just a customer to sell to, but a person to connect with. I live it in my interactions with him and I see it in his interactions with others. I admire him for his presence which serves as a vehicle of a mindfulness reminder for myself. Embracing every moment, however seemingly mundane. Not just leaning into the moment, but immersing yourself in it.
Today I walked in, admittedly a little tired, which tends to adversely affect my language skills. I mistakenly ordered calabacín rojo (red zuchinni), instead of pimiento rojo (red pepper), at which Juanma began laughing.
“Te acabas de inventar una verdura nueva!” (you just invented a new vegetable!), he laughs.
“No conoces el calabacín rojo?? Está super de moda en California!” (You don’t know about red zuchinni? It’s all the rage in California) I reply, joining in on the laughter, “Claramente, sigo dormida” (obviously I’m still asleep).
I continued ordering, a few kiwis, and he clarifies with me which kind? Because there are three types today: two varieties of green kiwis and one variety of yellow kiwis. I point to the ones I bought last time, the cheapest green ones.
“Estos son muy duros, eh?” (These aren’t ripe yet, ok?), Juanma says.
“Pues lo sé porque compré uno hace dos semanas y lo acabo de comer ayer!” (I know, I bought one from you a few weeks ago and I just finally ate it yesterday) I reply, emphasizing the word “ayer” in true Spanish fashion, with passion and vigor.
His coworker peeks out from behind the fridge, “Lo compraste hace dos semanas y lo comiste ayer!?!? Hay que ver con este frio…” insinuating that the cold makes fruits and veggies ripen more slowly.
Cue a 3 minute conversation about how cold it has been the last 3 weeks. Sevillanos love to talk about the weather, myself included.
I continue along with my order and wrap up by ordering a few onions, and as I go to pay I remind him once again about the onions, as I didn’t see him put them in the bag.
“Ya te las he puesto” (I’ve already given them to you), Juanma informs me.
“Que rapidez! Eres como un mago Juanma” (You’re so fast…it’s like you’re a magician Juanma), I joke. “O eso o que sigo muy dormida” (Well, it’s that you’re a magician or maybe I’m still asleep).
He laughs again, “Yo no te iba a decir pero ahora que lo has dicho tu…” (I wasn’t going to say it but now that you said it first…).
We laugh together as I pay. I head for the door, Juanma calls out “hasta luego mi arma”, and I smile to myself as I step out onto the busy street.
People ask me if the charm of living here wears off, and I can say 10 years in and it hasn’t. I can’t help but compare this interaction with the equivalent of what it would have been in my previous life in the US. Buying groceries was a perfunctory errand on my checklist. I’d go into the grocery store, pick out fruits and veggies myself, and checkout with at most a “how are you” to the cashier, or better yet, at the automated self-serve checkouts. Fancy that, I didn’t have to see anyone or talk to anyone. From there I’d head into my car, drive home, park in my driveway and walk in the door. A stark contrast to walking home from the fruit shop (albeit one block) and saying hello to the neighbors passing by, the owner of the hardware store, the “portero” in my building.
That’s not to say you can’t cultivate connection anywhere you go. It’d be remiss of me not to recognize that I’ve internalized this Spanish mentality over the years. Making an effort to connect has become part and parcel of my day, regardless of the country backdrop. The gratitude for that awareness never wears off, and my weekly fruit shop interactions with Juanma are just one of myriad other weekly reminders of that gratitude.
Such a beautiful city.