The shopping cart wars

RIO RICO, Ariz. — I keep hearing complaints from some of my Rio Rico, Arizona “gringo” friends and neighbors when they drive the 15 miles south to shop the Nogales, Arizona Wal-Mart “big box” store.

That’s a store that has become one of their favorite shopping places.

I hear complaints like these:

(Be forewarned: I’ve inserted some possibly irreverent observations in my humble attempt to offer a solution to the shopping cart wars.)

Complaint #1: “’Those people'” (the phrase my “gringo” friends use to refer to Mexicans,) park their shopping carts smack dab in the middle of the aisles!”

(Sometimes, they do, indeed!  Sometimes, I must confess, I’ve also done that, while reaching for an item on the upper shelves.)

Complaint #2: “’Those people’ often park their carts side-by-side to chat, blocking the aisles.”

(Yes, indeed! “Those people,” – are, by nature and custom, an extremely gregarious, chatty folk.  But I, too, have done the same thing, many times.)

Complaint #3: “’Those people,’” especially the check-out clerks at the Nogales Wal-Mart, speak only Spanish!”

(Well, that seems logical to me, because nearly 80% of the shoppers at the Nogales Wal-Mart, cross the border from “el otro lado,” which, in English means, from “the other side,”   If my indignant “gringo friends” doubt that, I tell them to count the Sonoran license plates in the Wal-Mart parking lot on their way into the store.

If they continue to complain about “those people” that shop there, I tell them “those people” cross the line to shop here, because prices here are almost always lower than they are in “el otro lado.”

Like, the fact that a gallon of milk there costs $3.50; while here it’s almost always a dollar lower.  If you lived there, I say, “Wouldn’t you also come here?”)

Complaint #4: “When I push my cart down the aisles, ‘those people’ go out of their way to block me.”

(Well, maybe they’re reading your body language, and if it resembles that of a woman I once knew, I’d do the same.  She scared the heck out of me when she swept down an aisle apparently empowered by her notion that by virtue of her being a “born” American citizen, she’d somehow earned a special “right of passage.”  I was horrified when she almost ran over a cute toddler from “el otro lado.”)

But our local shopping cart wars can be so easily resolved.

All it would take is for “those gringos” to learn a few very simple Spanish words and phrases.

Like these – (always to be spoken softly and with a pleasant smile):

”¡Hola!”

“¿Cómo estás?”

“¿Con permiso, por favor?”

(The phonetics are: “OO-lah!  Komo es-tass?  Cone purmeeso, poor fabor?”  The English translation is: “Hello. How are you?  May I pass by, please?”)

Should they master those simple phrases, they’ll be warmed with a big smile, and a “Estoy bien, gracias. ¿Y tú?”  (“I’m fine, thanks.  And you?”)

Plus, “¡Perdóneme!” which means what it sounds like: “Pardon me!”  (They will also be rewarded with immediate clear passage down the aisle.)

I’d also like to recommend that my “gringo” friends here might even strive to learn a bit more Spanish than those simple phrases.

After all, they have settled in an Arizona County that abuts Mexico. They have also settled in Rio Rico, a community in which more than 80% of its residents claim Spanish as their native language.

And judging by my Mexican-American neighbors, they’ve been spending much more effort mastering English than most of “those ‘gringo’ people” have spent mastering Spanish.

Which is truly embarrassing, because Spanish is such a relatively easy language to learn, compared to English.

And far more musical and sweet-sounding than is English, even when I’ve heard Spanish spoken in anger or indignation.

Which is rare…