Dona E. Bowens

So I’ve been shopping and even that is a learning experience. See, when you’re in a new country and trying to hold on to your duckets like Ebenezer Scrooge at the Christmas Bazaar, you need to find where the sales are. Dana turned me on to the Barrio Judios where the outlet stores are clustered. I needed everything for the gorgeous apartment I’d found in the artsy-fartsy building in Ciudad Vieja. Sheets, towels, dishes, cutlery, pillows, a shower curtain, pots and pans—all those little things you haven’t thought of since outfitting your very first apartment 30 years ago. I needed all that shit and I did not want to go broke getting it.

But first, I had to get myself to Barrio Judios. Back in the day when I arrived in Barcelona I had a detailed paper map. It’s amazing to me how I navigated back then because now Google maps on the phone is a life saver. Four minute walk to the bus, which I welcome, catch the 116 bus or whatever and 14 stops and 24 minutes later get the fuck off. But it isn’t always that straight forward. I’m concentrating when I’m on public transportation. There’s no subway here and on the bus there’s no announcement of the next stop. What’s more, when I first got a bus, I had to watch the natives to see how they were calling for a stop. The stop buttons weren’t obvious like on busses in Barcelona. Some passengers would just walk to the front and stand in the door, making it obvious to the driver that they intended to get off at the next stop. But what if you’re at the back of the bus? I watched a man press a tiny silver button above the back door of the bus to request a stop. Ahhhh, so that’s how it’s done. My god, why not a big red arrow pointing to the button? How about a bigger button all together? It’s these little things that can test the fortitude of the new immigrant. I never would have sussed out that stop button if I hadn’t been watching the natives like a hawk.

Also, as I ride, I’m just checking out the look of the city. I’ve been snapping pictures of the architecture and as soon as I get serious about getting my phone to chat with this blog, I’ll upload some photos. The little colorful casitas catch my eye with their European flourishes but painted green, pink, black and purple. And there are plenty of trees all in bloom now because it’s springtime in the southern half of the planet. Montevideo has a harsh beauty, I think. While Barcelona was the pageant princess, Montevideo is that grunge chick trying to hide her beauty with ripped tights and heavy eyeliner.

I get to the shopping district and start walking…which is a miracle unto itself. I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it, Amerikka was trying to kill me for the 3 years I was back stateside. I couldn’t walk to the end of my block without needing to take a break to rest my aching back and hips. Now at 7 weeks into my new life I think nothing of walking a few blocks and it actually feels good to get the limbs moving. I’m sure I’ve lost a bit of weight just through daily living. I’m not tracking the pounds, but I am tracking how I feel, and physically, I feel the best that I have since 2022.

I fall into a home goods store and start throwing sheets, towels and other needed stuff into my cart. I was having a good old time until I get to check out. The cashier asked for my name. Why? Just to be friendly? To add me to the mailing list? Nope. I guess I’m registered as an official customer at that store now. I’ve found that Uruguay wants my name and ID for a lot of shit that I deem unnecessary, like getting a bus card. But I suppose with the bus card it makes sense if, god forbid I lose it, I suppose it can be reissued with my balance intact. But my name for buying pots and pans? At the second shop it got even more complicated when I could only pay in cash or with a bank transfer. Seriously? A bank transfer? How does that work? Luckily, they held my shit while I walked a few blocks to the nearest bank to take out the 3,000 pesos necessary to free my pots and pans from outlet store prison. Even the bank was a learning experience when I questioned why everyone was in line for one ATM when there were six not being used. Reading, especially in a foreign language, is fundamental. On closer inspection, I read that the other ATMs were dedicated to cash deposits or check deposits only. So, 6 machines for deposits and only one for withdrawals? Ok.

Now that I was loaded down with two huge bags of shit, and marveling at the fact that I’d only spent about $120, I had to get all of it back to the apartment. There was no way I was going to lug all of my goodies back on the bus. I found myself lugging all this stuff from corner to corner looking for the intersection that was most likely to send an empty taxi my way. Every taxi that passed for the next 10 minutes was occupied. I took a seat on a window ledge and decided to wait out fate. A taxi came by 2 minutes later with a Lady Cab Driver (that’s a deep cut for Prince fans 😉) and I hopped in. I tried to get into the mould of observation again. I don’t like to talk in taxis, especially in a foreign language through a glass partition. However, Lady Cab Driver had other ideas. She was chatting and chatting and I finally decided that, damn it, it was time to practice my Rioplata Spanish. Good thing I did. She told me about her 13 year-old son who gets English in school, but she would really like him to have more practice with a private teacher over the summer. What’s that you say? A private teacher? Well, here’s my card! And she’d already written her name and number on a sliver of paper for me. That’s what my friends back in Barcelona used to call “Pulling A Dona.” Pulling A Dona is picking up new students in unusual circumstances. I’ve gotten students from playing Farmville back in the day on Facebook. I’ve found students while eating lunch in a restaurant and being overheard speaking English. I’ve gotten the lion’s share of my students through word of mouth—some of my students are third generation from the original source.

So, I pulled my first Dona in Montevideo and I know there are more where that came from. Now that I’m “settled” in my long-term home, it’s time to get about the business of work in a serious sense because lord knows those chivitos aren’t going to pay for themselves.

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