Chinos

Hola!

So I’m writing a blog about Semana Santa but it’s a pretty somber occasion and it’s too sunny today to write about. Instead, I’m going to talk about CHINOS!

No, silly (people who understand Spanish), not Chinese people, I’m talking about the random stores owned by Chinese people that all the Spaniards, who are a little less concerned about political correctness than many Americans, call chinos in honor of their owners. It would be kind of like if we were honest with ourselves and called Dunkin’ Donuts something like "Indians" (I mean, not that someone as politically correct as myself would ever—oh, who are we kidding?). But seriously, they’re always run by Chinese people. Always. The Chinese have a monopoly on this kind of store. Even the gypsies haven’t tried to get in on it and they love to try to make me give them money for useless things.

What exactly IS a chino store? Well, I’m glad I assumed you’d be asking, my friend. Chino stores are like if Target, a grocery store, and the 5 Below had some sort of super-amazing mutant offspring and spread them throughout the city. They sell virtually anything you could possibly want (except face wash, which people in Spain apparently never use) and each store carries different stuff. Some stories sell mostly food, some mostly clothing, some sell appliances, and some are clearly selling whatever they bought in bulk on a whim. Need a fan? Chino store. Need obscure Milka chocolate varieties? Chino. Need a cow print tablecloth? Chino store. Need a kidney? Well, I haven’t seen them casually chilling out in freezers at Chino stores, but it’s totally possible.

I wish you all could know first hand how fantastic these stores are. It’s even better because two chinos never carry the same things, so you’re bound to get into all sorts of adventures wandering the aisles. So, if you go to enough chinos, you’ll find what you’re looking for and it will be way cheaper than anything you could buy in a normal store.

I bought my umbrella in a chino and it’s the best umbrella I’ve ever owned. Seriously. Ask my parents about how inferior their umbrellas seemed when they were trotting along next to my super umbrella and me. Exceedingly inferior. Point for chino store.

Anyway, it's my hope to update again soon. I hope you're all having splendid adventures of your own.

Love,

Natalie