"Go with us to a corner of the sprawling market in Mexico City where an old Indian man named Pota-lamo is selling onions. Twenty strings of onions lay in front of him. A guy from Denver walks up and asks, 'How much for a string of onions?'

" 'Ten cents,' replies Pota-lamo.

" 'How much for two strings?'

" Pota-lamo fixes his eyes on him and says, 'Twenty cents.'

" 'What about three?'

" 'Thirty cents.'

" 'Not much of a reduction for quantity. Would you take twenty-five cents for three?'

" 'No.'

" 'Well, how much for all of it, the whole twenty strings?'

" 'I will not sell you the whole twenty strings.'

" 'Why not?' asks the American. 'Aren't you here to sell onions?'

" 'No,' replies Pota-lamo, 'I am here to live my life, I love this market. I love the crowds. I love the sunlight and the smells. I love the children. I love to have my friends come by and talk about their babies, and their crops. That is my life and for that reason I sit here with my twenty strings of onions. If I sell all my onions to one customer, then my day is over and I have lost my life that I love — and that I will not do.' "