Stressful shopping

By: Lauren Cave

With a list in hand of the people I wanted to purchase gifts for I headed to Viejo (Old) San Juan. Old San Juan is the home of shops, restaurants and bars. The goal is to get everyone something uniquely Puerto Rico.
Avoiding the tourist shops where shot glasses, bags, maracas and T-shirts splattered with psychedelic paint and Puerto Rico written across, are sold I ventured
into shops that had the “wow” items. Persistent in buying things that would prompt others to ask, “where did you get that fabulous bag?”
Looking at my list and taking a mental inventory of what people would like I realize fast that I must run damage control and put in a phone call, asking politely for my mother to put money in my account.
The names Vanessa, Hailey, (sisters) Clayton (brother), Jim (step-dad), mom and my two best friends, Matt and Adam were scribbled on the back of a receipt. Hailey is easily satisfied with some gaudy jewelry; Vanessa loves funky stuff to add to her eclectic apartment, which I helped decorate. Actually, I provided most of the décor from artwork and trinkets I brought from Spain.
Clayton, my difficult to shop for brother, would be satisfied with anything so maybe I would end up getting him the Puerto Rico graffiti T-shirt. Step-dad is completely content with food of any sort as long as it is sugary and bad for you. Does Puerto Rico have its own chocolate? Adam and Matt requested Don Q rum so picking it up last minute is no problem. Finally, my eyes reach Mom. Calling her to find out if there is anything she wants is out of the question. The answer is always “I just want you to have a great time and tell me everything when you get back.”

What a novel concept, however, I know her words are true do it does not clear the guilt I’d feel if I obeyed her. Also, it wouldn’t allow me the pleasure to see her reaction, which is always giddy excitement. I drive myself crazy every holiday season, birthday and trip. The worry over getting the best gift for others is a minor anxiety compared to the sheer stress I feel. I decide to let stores guide my decision.

A building in Old San Juan representative of the Spanish architectural influence.

Store one, Hecho a Mano (Made by hand), is filled with sarongs, jewelry, shoes and bags with Moroccan flair. I get caught up in talking myself in and out of buying a bag. Store after store I rationalize why I won’t pay more than $30 on anyone than my mom… and myself.
The open-air market in the Plaza de las Almas is filled with artisan booths with some junk, jewels, artwork and food. Approaching one vendor, I know I will be able to scratch a line through Hailey’s name. Necklaces with big, colorful beads, ranging in size and shape with earrings to match, line the table. The lady is proud to tell me it is all handmade by her husband and lets me get two for $25, a bargain and a curse because now I must decide which one is cuter for me to keep for myself. One down, seven to go, my family is way to large. Successfully, I knock out my step-dad’s gift quickly. Coffee with a hint of chocolate flavor, a dessert for breakfast, Jim will love it.
While waiting for the free trolley to take us to a different part of town I popped into a store cold Blue Lotus. Here I was able to buy my sister a mask at a bargain or at least in my budget for $30. Store after store I as able to get something that I was sure my family would like and that would be exclusively from Puerto Rico. Purchases of a ten-dollar T-shirt for my brother and alcohol for my friends proceeds the pouring, I decided to return to the hotel.
Once I get back to Hotel Miramar, I decided to fondle my purchases. After I show off my lovely purchases I realized I didn’t get anything for my mother. Immediately the stress sets in and I decide that I will not worry about it, there is always Vieques, where I may have no choice but to pay an arm and a leg for a gift. I look forward to desperately searching for the best gift for SharBear.