Today we went to the market for lunch... mmm, mole... and as we walked back to the car we encountered a man selling small plants. From a wheelbarrow. Several months ago we visited a local nursery to get an idea of the type of plants we want and while we've yet to purchase anything, we know we need something to liven up the joint.
These plants we cute - less than a foot tall in round clay pots with white stones to make them purty. One looked like a bonsai tree, there were a couple spider-plants and one could only be described as a psuedo-palm tree. Very cute, but I had doubts as to how long they'd survive once we rescued them from the street and brought them home. Something about roots needing space to grow...
The man said the price, 140 pesos. Ibis laughed at him and said he's not a tourist, that he lives right here.
"Oh, yo sé, tu eres el traductor. Cien pesos." Oh, I know, you're her translator. 100 pesos.
Ibis clarified, said that I'm his wife, but the joke was born. Apparently this isn't the first time this has happened and it almost makes up for me constantly being mistaken for being a tourist.
We didn't buy any plants but I plan to take my translator to the nursery again soon.