I began my Swedish newspaper warehouse quest by asking the man who always wraps his undercooked bread in Swedish newspaper where he gets that paper from.
Soggy-bread-vendor: Do you want a half-kilo or a kilo?
Me: I do not want to buy the paper, I just want to see who sells you the paper. Where is it, in the market, or…?
Soggy-bread-vendor: It is in the market, but it is a little far.
Me: Okay, but if you tell me where to go, I will go. I just want to see.
Instead of giving me directions, the soggy-bread-vendor leaves his stand of soggy bread and tells us to follow him. He does not look happy, which makes me feel bad, until I remember—I’m about to finally discover the origins of the Swedish newspapers!
After walking down one street and then down another street we enter the indoor part of the market and stop by a bitik.
Soggy-bread-vendor: She wants newspapers.
The bitik owner turns to a shelf behind him and pulls one from a stack. “This? How many do you want to buy?”
I examine the newspaper. At first it appears to be Swedish, and I’ll figure I’ll buy it just to be nice, but then I notice some æ’s and ø’s mixed in with the ä’s, å’s and ö’s so it’s actually Norwegian, probably, and I don’t want it after all. I slide the newspaper back across the counter and confess, “I do not want the paper, I just want to see where they sell them. Who will sell you this paper?”
The bitik owner makes an “ah-ha” sort of noise and asks, “You know the immigration post?”
Me: I did not hear you.
Bitik Owner: Do you know Basse?
Me, accidentally a little indignantly: Yes.
Bitik Owner. Do you know the immigration post?
Me: Yes, I know it.
Bitik Owner: At the junction turn right. Go down the road until the pharmacy. Ask for Ous Camara’s pharmacy.
Me: The papers will be there? Ous Camara’s pharmacy?
Bitik Owner: Yes.
Me: Thank you!
End of Part 1.
No comments:
Post a Comment