Zapatos con Dedos/ The Vibram Five Finger Shoes

Changa had seen one of the college students who works selling the bakery bread and pastries at the farmer's market, wearing Vibram's Five Finger shoes.  The student had come up to the pastry work table to talk to me about how the market sales were going. While we were talking, Changa seemed fascinated by the toe defining shoes; he couldn't take his eyes off of them.  I jokingly asked him if he wanted to buy a pair.  He said he did, which surprised me.  Changa sends most of his money to Mexico to support his father.  Changa shares a 70's era townhouse with 4 other people from his Guerrero village; he spends $200 a month on rent, does not own any type of motorized vehicle and seems to spend his spare time watching television, eating and sleeping.  His clothing is simple and plain.  He spends very little money on himself or on life's little luxuries.  If he wanted to spend $100 on a pair of toe shoes, I assumed he must really want them.

We had to go to REI, an outdoor sports store for the shoes.  I picked Changa up at his house, but I knew I could not go in if he offered, as I would not get out again for what could be hours.  He and his housemates are very hospitable.  They will have me watch television novelas, offer me food and things to drink.  Another time, I would be happy to, but on this Saturday, I only had time to take him for the shoes and return home.  He, of course, asked me to come in, but I told him no, another time.

He seemed lost at REI.  It is a large store full of sports gear, sports clothing and Midwestern people of European descent all speaking English.  The shoes are in the very back of the store.  There were 7 or 8 models of the Five Finger shoes.  He chose a pair geared for runners (no way), with laces.  I asked the sales person for his size, as he cannot speak English.  He had trouble getting his toes into the right places.  I felt the toes on the first attempt; there was a toe compartment without a toe, and one that had two.  We laughed.  He eventually got his toes in the right places, but his feet are wide; they seemed stuffed into the shoe.  We asked for larger size, and after a little easier time getting them on his feet, he walked around (after me insisting) and then shook his head affirmatively.  At the cashier, he handed over a $100 bill and received a nickel in change.

I haven't asked him yet if he likes them.  I haven't seen him wear them to work.  I am sure the other Mexicans would roast him for it, but I would like to see this act of individuality once before he returns to Mexico.