Feeling the fear

I don`t know if it was everything I had heard....
It might have been the knife fight which erupted in front of me...
The wandering crack fiends, itching, scratching, clucking...

But something...

(...something)

...about Salvador brought me (intermittent) pangs of fear.




(For once) my guide book was right, the heavily policed tourist areas (church`s....hundreds of them) somewhat encouraged a feeling of an "endangered species".

Turns out churches can get a bit boring so eventually I (had to) venture out of the "protected zone"...

I decided to visit a market (...I like markets me).... This one was a "a bit dirty", smelled like rotting meat, but a genuine market nonetheless...

Giving the intimidating nature of the place (it was a bit dark)... The fact that I was the only (very unprotected) tourist... I was admittedly... "touching cloth" a bit.

After brushing off a couple of "gringos" and (the more polite) "amigo"... I`m approached by a a slightly scruffy young man (he was as dirty as my feet.... but all over)

"Hello.... English?"

(Shit!.... He speaks English, I have to respond)...

"Sim" (Yes)

Turns out "Hello English" was the only English this man could speak...

He reverts back to his native tongue

"Cupaucu"

(... say what now?)

..."Cupaucu"

I respond in the only way I know how...

..."noun comprenday"

He repeats "Cupaucu" over an over again, adding more and more complex words to the equation.

I continue to walk...

(he walks with me)

I change direction...

(he follows)

His erratic behaviour is starting to make me nervous...

...THIS GUY IS GETTING IN MY GRILL!

(What the fuck is "Cupaucu" and why does this guy keep saying it to me?)



...Is he trying to rob me? (..."the book" says he might)

...Does Cupaucu mean "give me your shit"?



Eventually I (we) end up where we begin our encounter...

He points at something...

something...(rotting)




...Turns out hes trying to sell me fucking fruit!






(Photos

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=191447&id=637432796&l=b0e71251ac

(...All taken when I summoned the courage to remove camera from bag)


The Pelo ("The Protected Zone") as featured in Micheal Jacksons 1996 smash hit "They dont really care about us"