Little shop of mangos

When I was in Buenos Aires, one of my favorite pastimes was getting mistaken for an Argentine. Each time it happened felt like a small victory in every tourist's fight to not feel like a tourist.

Here in Skagway, there is one place where I can curiously experience the same feeling.

The place is Ports of Call, a quaint market and Internet cafe stocked with all sorts of international foods. I would estimate 95 percent of the patrons are foreign cruise passengers. The shelves are loaded with exotic foodstuffs like cassava chips, guava juice, instant chana masala and, weirdly, Ovalteen. Every culture is represented in a room the size of a living room, with heavy emphasis on Indian, Filipino and whichever culture eats prawn crackers.

Outside, a dozen or so customers sit on the benches facing the dusty sidewalk and talk on their phones with the international calling cards they just purchased. They always look at you as you walk into the store. Each one speaks a different language into the receiver, making me feel like I'm passing through a ghetto United Nations of sorts.

When I head inside, I make a beeline for the shelf with the dried mangos. I'm a sucker for dried mangos. They remind me of my high school days, when I would come home and tear through a pack of dried mangos like a mango-deprived bear. Then I'll usually peruse a little bit, which is when the fun begins.

Because of the very nature of Ports of Call, no one inside knows where you are from. A fair amount of Skagway tourists speak little to no English. So in the market, employees (who are from various Asian countries and do speak English) will look you directly in the eye in an attempt to acknowledge your presence and then just look away and continue stocking the shelves. I play along with their game for a while, not saying anything, until it's time to check out. The cashier will make some unconfident small talk before I drop some English on them. Boom! America. What's up. Please, resume talking about the weather!

I'll then walk out of the store, not saying a word to the people who just walked in. It's the circle of life.

BeardWatch

• Time since last shave: 9 weeks
• Status of beard: Wild 'n' out
• Feels like: A warm spring meadow
• Beard visibility range: Visible from 225 yards, or 2.25 football fields. On a cloudy day, visibility is reduced.
• Inspiration: Neptune
• Compliments received: 4
• Offers to trim my beard: One, from the lady who cut my hair today. I said no thanks.