Tena is a centre of trade. It seems possible to buy just about anything you need just about whenever you need it; indeed sometimes even before you need it, it presents itself to you. Tena is full of shops. Every house front seems to have it’s own offering. There’s an abundance of food, clothes, shoes, house wares and telephone cabins.
Whilst sitting enjoying a rare ice-cream this afternoon I was presented with the chance to buy a new shiny plastic bucket. The lady was rather taken aback when it became apparent that I did not at this moment in time, nor in the near future anticipate needing a shiny new plastic bucket. (It’s a packing thing).
It’s often difficult to give a name to a shop. The shop selling mostly agrichemicals and equipment for raising chickens is also selling school bags, notebooks, a tank of fish and in a glass display case can be found a single solitary pair of dusty men’s size 9s. The entrances to the telephone cabins on the main street are squeezed tight against a job lot of sofas bearing a polite notice “please do not sit – selling”.
Buying local takes on a whole new meaning here. If 4 shops on your block (of 12 houses) are selling the same thing, then local means buying literally from your next door neighbour.
A van passed yesterday selling brooms and spring onions, a rather peculiar combination but seemed to be doing good trade. Brooms are very popular here,. Sweeping is very popular… I’m a big fan in fact, it’s a most cathartic activity.
But should you actually want to read, well you rarely if ever find anyone selling books here. I think there is a secret book store that no-one speaks about. Indeed there did use to be and it was a well kept secret. SO much so perhaps that when I went to search for it today it was no longer there. And we’ve no library so I’m back to reading the same book again, albeit 3 and a half years later!
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