corner. There are galleries and museums and cathedrals and so much more, but it's high time I get going. I've got some walking to do. 05 September 2012 There's nothing quite like grocery shopping in a foreign country to make you realize that you're not in Kansas anymore. I live on C?rrer de Diputaci, a working class neighborhood with a number of small restaurants and cafs and a handful of little "specialty shops" that sell things from tree ripened fruit and decadent chocolate hedgehogs to the most stylish of home decor. Around the corner from my apartamento is un supermercado, an all in one market that sells everything that one might imagine. After surviving the first night on leftover and somewhat stale trail mix and armed with the knowledge gleaned from my first "immersion Spanish class", I decided that it was time to test my newly reinvigorated language skills and get myself some cosas para comer. On the surface, a grocery store is a grocery store. I mean, how difficult could it be to buy some groceries? It's a visual activity, after all. Food is food. Spanish lemons look the same as American lemons, don't they? Bread is bread in any language. In el supermercado there are several options for collecting your goods. Many people come into the market wheeling their own cart, colorfully stretched canvas atop a metal basket with wheels, but there are other options as well. There's a more typical, albeit smaller, version of a cart you