Garage sales in Chile: lost in translation

I've had two quasi garage sales in Chile and I'm clear that the Chileans had no idea WHAT I was doing selling my stuff so cheap. But they did understand I was selling pretty nice things for good prices. And that's all they had to understand to participate. Before moving from Valpo to Santiago, I went through my closet to get rid of things that didn't fit right or that were a bit old and worn out. I gave some of my stuff to friends, but the things no one wanted I got ready to take to Avenida Argentina on Wednesday. I laid everything out in my apartment first to make sure it all fit on the plastic I had. I imagined the porteños were going to descend upon my goods pretty quickly and it was going to be total chaos once I got to the Avenida. So I wanted to have a go-through at laying out all my stuff once beforehand. Here's the test run in my apartment:


I got to Avenida Argentina and laid out my stuff and sat and waited. I was at the very end of the line of people selling used stuff. On Wednesdays people line up for blocks with their stuff laid out like so. I was surprised that people walked by and didn't even "pescar". I'm sure they thought it was weird that a gringa was there selling her stuff. They probably assumed my prices were comparable to the other vendors, or even more expensive since my clothing was from the States and probably better quality than theirs. After about 20 minutes sitting there reading the newspaper, a woman finally came up and asked how much something cost. I gave her such a cheap price she didn't even try to bargain with me. There was no point. If she hadn't bought the item, someone else would have for that price. They were garage-sale prices. The thing is, all the other vendors there sell used stuff to supplement their income, so their prices are correspondingly higher. The idea of a garage sale barely exists here in Chile. I have seen signs for a garage sale in the Barnechea here in Santiago, once, but have never seen a garage sale here. Old stuff is much more valuable here at the end of the world.

My part of the sidewalk soon turned into a small tornado of porteños asking me how much my stuff costed and passing me the money. I sold almost everything in about 10 minutes. A few people walked off with stuff without paying, but I imagined that would happen, and it didn't bother me. The point was to make a few bucks while getting rid of extra stuff. I kind of did it for the experience of it all. I was curious what it would be like. I got the idea from a friend of mine and her husband; they had sold a few things there before relatively quickly, pocketed the cash and were off.

When the crowd finally moved on, I was left with only a few things. It was time to go home. The vendedora kiddy corner from me started talking to me, so I went over to chat with her. She was disappointed that her sales weren't as good as mine, and was perhaps a little upset with me. She may have felt I stole her clients. I doubt it. I've never seen a Chilean street vendor stormed the way I was. And I did it ONCE in Valpo, whereas she's probably there every Wednesday and Saturday. If she'd had any idea what I was doing, she would have bought me out and then easily resold my things at double or triple the price. I empathized a bit with her and offered what was left. She was going to be there all day selling anyway. That seemed to cheer her up. Plus it was nice for me. Otherwise I would have had to have gone to Calle Serrano to give the rest to the used clothing store there. (One of the places that blew up in February 2007 because of a gas leak.)


Garage Sale number II: The garage sale to end all garage sales in Chile.
After living in Santiago for a year, I had some more things that I was getting no use of. This time I went to Parque Forestal, where people sell their used stuff in Santiago Centro. I felt a bit more at home there, because while in Valpo all the people selling stuff were older, here in Santiago, all the people were about my age. They were selling some pretty cute stuff. I was looking forward to selling quickly so I could check out their things. I had just got my clothing laid out when a cop started walking down the street talking to the vendors. He worked his way up the street until he got to me. He said we all had to leave because we didn't have permission to sell our things. Of course, coming from a garage-sale culture, I cross-examined the police dude trying to understand WHAT the problem was. The core of the matter was that the licensed vendedores nearby complained about the "informal" vendedores because we steal all the customers. We could sell at a better price since the informal vendors don't pay taxes. That was a good-enough explanation for me. Well, that, and I had no other choice but to pack up. With a bit of frustration --I hadn't had this problem in Valpo-- I moved on. I was having a hard time accepting that this wasn't going to work out because I had a HUGE backpack full of stuff and didn't feel like going all the way home with it. What a waste of an afternoon. So I walked down some random street near Cal y Canto, and pulled the stuff out of my backpack and set up on the sidewalk. I was the only one selling things. So this generous Chilean dude came up to me, a gringa with her backpack, selling everything in it, and asked me what had happened. They kicked us out of Parque Forestal- I said- I'm just selling some stuff. He walked on. About five minutes later he came back with chocolate milk and cookies and handed them to me. And then he handed me like 2000 pesos. I tried to refuse the food and money. He didn't get it at all. And how would he? He thought I was a gringa backpacker who was so broke that I was resorting to selling all of my belongings to scrap some change together to have lunch and maybe find a hostel, since más encima, they'd just kicked me out of the park! He probably thought I was sleeping in the Park. It bothered me a bit that he didn't understand that I was FINE, and just trying to get rid of some stuff and make some pocket change simultaneously. Le estaba pasando películas con cuático. He wouldn't listen to my explanations because he was SURE I was a broke backpacker. I realized there was no way this experience would translate into his reality except with me as the broke backpacker. So I gave in. He handed me the food and money, turned around, and hurried off.

Then, you know those people who take care of parked cars here in Chile? They turned into my clients. I had a couple nice pairs of men's shoes and pants that I was selling. They were putting together their tips to come buy half of my stuff. Meanwhile, a few passerbys stopped and bought clothing. I was done in about a half hour. On my way home, I decided not to have any more garage sales here. Because in a place that doesn't have the affluence of the States, the culture really doesn't support this type of thing and CLEARLY doesn't understand it.

Future useless things I donated to the hogar de cristo, but finally I figured out the best solution for old stuff is leaving it in the closet by the garbage shoot. That way, either my neighbors take the stuff, or more likely, the people cleaning the building get it. And I'm sure it's very useful for them. It works as a bit of a supplement to their pay, a tip. And it's easier to get rid of stuff. This method works well for everyone.