Avocados and Arugula

The sound of a car horn pierces through a sea of discombobulating noise, only to be followed by the shouts of drivers honking during Shanghai’s usual rush hour. Sight alone was no longer enough to guide me through these crowded streets; instead I dashed through the frenzy with my senses on high alert.

I was on my way to interview the Avocado Lady, a woman infamous in Shanghai's expat community as the bearer of all the things foreigners missed while living abroad, including olive oil, cheese, and of course, avocado.

This can’t be right, I thought. I looked at my notes and look at the small store in front of me. Sure enough, the numbers matched. I slowly walked past the store. Carrots, bok choy, pears, the selection seemed ordinary. Reaching the corner, I doubled back and walked past the store again. I stop and look up the word for avocado on my iPhone.

“Can I help you?”

Startled, I reply, “Ni hao, I’d like to talk to the owner of this store. Is she here?”

The woman looks at me for a second, then for another. A man comes up to her looking for basil. She walks to the back of the store and bags a small bunch of basil. She adds a bit more, and hands it to the man, throwing in a little extra parsley.

“This will go bad soon. I know you like parsley so have some.” The man, a young Australian, thanks her in broken Chinese.

Surprised by her generosity, I ask, “Why did you charge so little for that basil? It costs at least four times that amount in international markets.”

She busies herself with helping another. “Basil is not expensive, and he frequently buys groceries here.”

In a city full of vendors looking for a quick buck, I could tell why her customers were so loyal. I want to ask her more questions. She stares at me, blinks, and readjusts fruit display.

Finally she says, “Would you like some tea? The store is not busy now, I have a few minutes to spare.”

I break into a smile, the first of few since I started living in this foreign, large city.

Yes, I say as I sit down and take out my pen.