TRYING TO GRASP THE CANCHA

In the city of Cochabamba, and indeed in most of Bolivia, supermarkets are still only scarcely present. The mass of consumer goods – from fresh vegetables and meat to mobile phones – is sold in the markets. The biggest market in Cochabamba is the Cancha, spreading out south of the city center. The Cancha is a conglomerate of various markets and comprises a vast area that nobody really controls. It might take up an extension of ten times ten blocks, as here in Latin America we also count distances in blocks. In the Cancha, the vendors offer their goods, on sheets on the ground or in more elaborate stands with metal constructions for product display.

For my work, the markets in Cochabamba are highly interesting since these are the places where food is bought and sold. So I am trying to get to understand how markets and particularly the Cancha work, but this is not an easy task.

Vendor ("Caserita") at the Cancha

Being a “gringa”, a person that is obviously foreign, markets are difficult places for me. First of all, they are huge agglomerates of people in which I am a perfect target for thieves. I have, however, overcome this fear by now, also because I usually walk with my boyfriend. Still, it feels awkward to go to the market because I somehow cannot interact normally with the vendors there.

I have lived in Bolivia for quite some time, and most of it in Cochabamba, and I am perfectly capable of speaking the local version of Spanish. I am able to function like a local person in most everyday situations, but I still feel out of place at the market. It is my boyfriend who converses with the vendors, mostly women, and buys the food we need. It is him who makes them sell us good quality at a fair price, which basically means that they weigh the goods correctly and give you a little bit extra. Bargaining is not part of the process, they tell you the price and that is it, but there is a kind of ritual that you have to go through in order to get the products you want. I somehow do not seem to understand this process, and I believe what makes it more difficult for me to “function” in this market situation is that the vendors recognize me as a foreigner that cannot judge local products.

Yes, I believe that shopping at the market challenges the consumer to actually know something about the products they buy because they have to be able to judge the quality and the price. Thus, going to the market and particularly the Cancha is a veritable challenge for me. Given, however, my interest in these markets, I tried these days to talk to a few vendors, and it did really not go well. First of all, they are busy, which can however be overcome with some patience. But then, they somehow see me as an intruder, as someone who will anyway never be able to understand. I believe that with time and patience I will be able to converse more with the vendors working at the Cancha and other markets, in this very particular world of theirs.

For now, I will take a route to get some more contacts that is always possible here in Bolivia: There is a tradition of organization, and so every professional, from the worker to the university professor, is part of a professional association. The other day, when I was travelling, I saw that the man selling coffee in the plaza was part of the “Association of Milk Coffee Vendors”. So, the vendors at the Cancha and other markets are for sure part of professional associations, and through them I hope to get better access to the vendors. Indeed, one of the most well-known organisations in Cochabamba was founded by women selling at the Cancha, and it is called “Las Hijas del Pueblo” – “The Daughters of the People”. A name that certainly expresses what a vital social function these women are fulfilling.

In 1965, Bolivian writer Armando Montenegro wrote a text about the  typical “Hija del Pueblo” that seems still so true nowadays – here some excerpts:

“She is the backbone of the home economy of the region. Her reason for living are the practicalities of commerce and the industry of the home. She floods the markets, the streets, the sports fields, the trains, the buses, to offer to the people of Cochabamba, chicha, api, refreshments, chicharrón [...]. She seems to be a machine [...] She has no place to live, no home or does not remember it, because she sleeps, eats and makes her social life in her “puesto”, her market stall. [...] She is the dominant figure in the marriage, because she has economic independence based on her own effort. Her husband does not have much authority over her. He is only considered decoration. The purple hematoma surrounding the eye is the sign of her marriage, much more important than the wedding ring or the rounded belly. [...] The Daughter of the People is a solid force because she is the true exponent of constancy, instinctive wisdom and work.”
(Montenegro, 1965, in Calderon & Rivera, 1984; my translation).

How much is there, in this description and in the realities I observe at the Cancha, that is worth uncovering and unriddling...so I keep going!

SOURCE:
Calderon, F. & Rivera, A. (1984). La Cancha. Cochabamba: CERES