Beads of sweat form on my upper lip, and by now I’m so hungry I can barely think straight. Beep. The screen goes blank. I mutter a quiet curse under my breath.
It’s day four of our new posting. Still slightly delirious from the jet lag and the constant effort of keeping ourselves – and our two young children – alive, I venture out for the first time to do groceries. Not just a quick shop, but the full one-stop haul. The kind where you also buy buckets, mops, brooms, an ironing board, and guest towels. After all, you’re setting up a whole house.
I don’t want to talk to anyone. I barely speak the local language. I just want to do my shopping quietly and anonymously. How hard can it be?
An hour and a half later the self-checkouts finally come into view. Perfect. I really won’t have to talk to anyone. Never mind that I’m pretty much the only customer in the supermarket.
During the beep-and-scan process, I have to leave a few items aside because they have security tags that need to be removed manually. Since I don’t want to talk to anyone, those items can wait for another day.
One hundred thirty-eight beeps later, my bags are neatly packed – Tetris-style – and I’m ready to pay. Freedom is within reach. Yes, I’d like to pay ‘con tarjeta’. One last beep and then…
A blank screen.
A drop of sweat runs down my cheek. No, no. System error? Do I have to start over? Take all items out of my neatly packed bags and play Tetris all over again? For a brief moment, I consider abandoning everything and fleeing to the safety of the car.
Our driver patiently waiting for me near the exit notices the panic in my eyes. In very basic Spanish, I try to explain the problem. Gallantly, he springs into action and summons someone from the supermarket, complete with enthusiastic arm gestures.
So much for anonymity.
Before long, three cashiers appear and – with much ceremony – escort me to the nearest staffed checkout. Clearly a code red situation: expat on the loose! The cashier smiles kindly and assures me everything will be fine. I nod as if I understand her.
And that concludes the adventures of day four. Let’s hope day five doesn’t get any more exciting!
Margot Musschoot
Five moves in 10 years, from South Africa, via the Netherlands, Kenya and now Peru, Margot Musschoot feels she got a speed course in so-called Expatting. Although the challenges remain, she just handles them differently. She lives in Lima, Peru with her husband Jonas and their two children, Rémi (4) and Alba (1.5).
