After lunch, we were all well-fortified, and plunged back into the market to power shop. Before we ate, we’d bought hardly a thing, but now we were on a mission!
Besides the usual tourist souvenirs I normally buy, like refrigerator magnets and chopsticks for friends back home, I was looking for a dress to wear to a wedding we were going to attend in a couple weeks.
Not knowing when we left home that we’d need something a little more “fancy” than the stack of capris and short-sleeved blouses we’d packed, both Miriam and I were on the hunt for something nicer, but that we’d also be certain to wear again.
So here we were, with literally miles and piles of clothing to shop through, but no dressing rooms or mirrors! I saw something I liked, put my arms up into it to feel the width, and it felt too snug.
With hand gestures, I communicated that I needed something larger. The man dug through a row of dresses and handed me another one—not as pretty as the first, but I knew I didn’t have time to be choosy.
It felt “about right,” so I bought it. On the spot. Without trying it on. Miriam also found something a short time later. Mine was about $13, and Miriam’s was a little less. Then we needed slips.
(Poor Don! I don’t know too many men who qualify for sainthood, but I’m adding his name to the list.)
In a stall that sold undergarments, I indicated I needed a “Large,” pointing to the “M” tag in a cotton bloomer-like half-slip.
The woman sadly shook her head. “Another country,” she said, with her deep Korean accent. “Another country.”
Then she dug through a stack of half slips and handed me an XXL! I wear an M or an L at home, but here, she thinks I’m significantly bigger than most of the female population? Ack!
But she knew her sizes, and when I held it up to my waist, I bought it ($3) on the spot. Later, when Miriam and I tried on our new outfits, everything fit “well enough,” and we were both very happy with our purchases.