Money

The bank ATMs give you large denominations and few merchants will accept them. There is a change shortage in this society. Nobody will change anything larger than the equivalent of five dollars unless you give them a withering stare or really twist their arm, and then they’ll act like they’re doing you a huge favor. And maybe they are, because now you have a fistful of useful coinage jingling in your pocket instead of some abstract, plastic-y bank note dressed up with a lot of suspicious runes and calligraphy.

The coins are always falling out of circulation and getting re-vamped. There is a variety of sizes and cuts to the denominations, from nice thick soild ones you can rap on a table to an adorable one introduced recently that fits through a pop-top and looks like splendid dollhouse money. I like the thick coins because they’re easy to pick up if you don’t have fingernails. The tenner, with its golden outer rim, is one of my favorites of all the coins I’ve had to handle in my long life of petty commerce. It has exactly the heft it should and it gleams with promise. It’s almost as pleasing as the British pound coin. It’s the largest coin and it makes a worthy tip for cafe service. The satisfaction in this one coin. I also like the 20 note because it’s a nice shade of blue. But I’d rather have two of the coin than the one paper. Is it atavism?

I went out in a very light rain to a beer-and-stuff shop on the next corner. The woman who ran the shop was a Tztotzil and she had two little boys in the shop with her. An iron gate kept me out in the road and her in the store and I asked for the things I wanted so she could pass them out through the hinged trapdoor in the gate. I ordered a bag of spicy potato chips.
The boy said something in Tzotzil. I looked at him and he said it again in Spanish: “Those potato chips are too spicy.” He was warning me with baleful eyes.
“You don’t like them?” I said. But he only looked solemnly up at me. The smaller boy came to the gate giggling and craned his neck back to look at me. He was still giggling as I left to walk back up the cobbled hillside. The rain was light and the hummingbirds were still out, but not the lizards. There is also a cat I like: a slinky black one with a white chest who keeps the other, noisier cats out of the garden. We always had a plan to buy this cat some treat and keep it hanging around while we were here, but we never did and now we have to move on. The potato chips were spicy and delicious.