Spare Change

Getting your money from into a form that is actually usable is often a challenge here, as I talked about last time. From the bank to the bairro, it is adventure to get a denomination that you can actually use. The exchange rate with the US dollar is about 30-to-1 (with the Euro I think it is around 40-to-1). So when you get your 500mt note from the ATM, you're not even getting $20.

But because of the scale that people charge for things here, your money goes further than you think. Want a mango, that'll be 1mt. An avocado, 5mt. Hot, fresh roasted corn-on-the-cob, 10mt.

On the other end, things that aren't food are often priced and packaged for you to buy only exactly what you need with as little money as possible. Need laundry detergent, for example? You will never have enough money sitting around to buy the family-super-saver jumbo size of laundry detergent that will last for six months. If you do, you'll be left with no money for food. You will buy an individual packet of laundry soap for 3mt that will wash maybe four or five day's worth of clothes (for a guy). Or you will buy a bar of laundry soap for 10mt and that will get your family through a week.

While twenty is the smallest bank note here, the coins in Mozambique are in the ten, five, two, one, and fifty-cent denominations. Fifty-cents because there are actually a lot of things that will cost 1.5 or 2.5 or 7.5. Past ten everything for sale is in whole numbers, and often really round, nice numbers. Nothing is going to cost 17. Or even 199. Just 200. There are no price wars here.

The fight for most people is to get their money from large bills down to these small coins. But thanks to a new law, once you get your money into coins, not all of it is usable.

When Mozambique devalued its currency nine years ago, things were a thousand times more expensive. After years of hyperinflation people were paying 500mt for a loaf of bread. The government decided to overhaul it's practices, stop printing money, and lop off a whole bunch of zeroes. That same bread that was 5000mt became five. With the changes came all new currency, notes, coins, and all. The coins they were minting at 500mt became 50 cents. 1000Mt became 1mt, and so on.

The notes were taken out of circulation but people were allowed to keep using the old coins, which were the same size and color and design as the new coins. The only difference was they were written 5mt instead of five-thousand and were about half as heavy because they were made from aluminum.

Most vendors in the market have piles of these coins after doing a full day of business selling rolls (2mt) or donuts and cookies(1mt). They were mixed in with the newer minted coins and everybody knows that even though the coin said 1000 that it really means 1.

Things were fine until last week when the government announced that after 9 years it was tired seeing the old coins in circulation and decreed that they were no longer valid legal tender. The next day people were bemoaning the fact that their piles of change would no longer be recognized as currency—bemoaning that is until they got wise and realized that they can use whatever they want to as currency.

The kids know that I hoard the old currency. I used them as souvenirs to give to people when I was back in the states. The only reason is I think foreign currencies are cool and it was funny handing people a coin marked as five thousand and telling its worth about 18 cents. They kids were laughing at me because my accumulated wealth of maybe 30mts (=$1) was now useless.

This prompted a mini lecture on the history of money, saying that anything you ascribe value to can be used as payment, be it coins, salt, shiny pots and smallpox blankets, gold, tulips, oil, land, or whatever.

The next day I set out to prove them wrong and headed to the market to buy donut holes. (Donut holes is really the best equivalent description I can think of. They're small, fried, and coated in sugar glaze and that's just about what they are. And they're on sale EVERYWHERE.)

As usual, there are a line of about five ladies with donut holes all in a row and all competing for your money. I started at one end and went to buy a single donut hole with the old money. The lady looked at it and then pronounced "This money is old," which meant I couldn't use it. I just kind of held the money in my hand as the gal next to her said, "I'll take it then," grabbed my money and gave me a donut.

It seems as if the old money was still working just as good. I went the third lady in the line, handed her the old money and asked for a donut. She also said that it wasn't valid. But that didn't stop the fourth lady from saying that the money is just as good to her. She took it and gave me a donut.

I returned to the orphanage with donuts in hand and the kids all applauded me.

Hope for Change

One of the hardest things to do in Mozambique is to get exact change. This is a problem that is exacerbated by an economy that ranges from legitimate points-of-sale, being stores or restaurants, and secondary markets and service oriented markets, being the kids selling ice cold coke out of a cooler on the street corner or a gratuity for the man with no hands that is watching your parked car making sure nobody steals the side-view mirrors.

For an example, try to go to the bank at ask for a hundred dollar bill. Don't write on a note to give to the teller that you need a hundred dollars and to not ask any questions, just withdraw it from your account like a normal person. Then go to work, or school, or the gym, or wherever it you you have acquaintances that is not a store. Start asking them for change to break your hundred. Chances are none of your friends carry cash any more, or that they don't have that much.

If asking your friends didn't work, try going to a convenience store. Your local 7-11 should do fine. Go ahead and buy a half-gallon of milk or something mildly healthy. Try to pay with your $100 bill. Just go right on and ignore the sign on the door that says they don't accept $50 bills. Yes, a hundred-dollar bill is NOT a fifty dollar bill, and while the employee there may appreciate your astounding level of logic, I have a feeling they won't and you'll be turned away.

Still no luck and that Benjamin is burning a whole in your pocket, huh? Try going to a car wash fundraiser. You know, the kind where the local high school debate team or the drama club or the mathletes are doing a car wash to raise awareness for...numbers? I don't know, I've been out of high school too long. The math club was the one with all the good looking girls, right?

Anyways, when you hand them a hundred-dollar bill to pay for a substandard car wash they'll start jumping up and down positively ecstatic because one-hundred is a lot of numbers, a fact of which you were already well aware. They won't hear you say that you only wanted to give ten over their shouts of joy as your cries for change are drowned out.

That's not a little bit of what it's like in Mozambique. That's exactly what it's like, except it's not cute math coeds washing your car but scruffy looking men using muddy rags. The point is that sometimes it's just impossible to get change.

The difficulty in obtaining change starts in the way people are paid. Anybody that works for the state (a huge portion) has automatic deposits set up for their bank account. There is not a system of electronic point-of-sales (credit/debit card) in Mozambique so everything has to be paid in cash. And when people's monthly expenses run about 120% of their income they just take it out from the bank in one fell swoop.

So many people needing to withdraw money causes a phenomenon every first of the month as people will take a whole day off work and sit in a line with their bank card to take out money for the handful of three dozen or so ATMs scattered across a town of a half-million people. Yes, everybody needs to take the money out on the first available day because waiting a week till there is no line would be too easy (sarcasm) and because there is no food left in the house.

The problem is, taking money out of the ATM leaves people with bank notes valued at 500 metical. This is not a problem when you go to buy a sack of rice (500) or a pile of beans (250). It does become a problem when you get thirsty from all the shopping and want to buy a coke (15) and then need to take the bus home (5) and then go to buy bread rolls for breakfast in the morning (2). It is impossible to ask for bread and hand a 500 note to somebody who will not even do 200 worth of business in a single day.

Folks that don't get paid through the bank will often be even unluckier, in a manner of speaking. If they have a minimum wage job and make 2,250. Their employer will hand then two-1000 notes (the largest denomination) a 200 note and a 50 note. Good luck getting change for those 1000 metical notes.

There are some tricks. Some people are able to just directly ask for change. Maybe take your 500 note down to five-100 notes. Other people take their large notes to church and try to make change in the offering plate. It is then just as embarrassing when they walk back from the offering with money still in their hand if there wasn't enough change. Other times, you figure out which stores always have change or which types of vendors always have change and you just always try to.

Downtown, most people selling prepaid phone credit (50 each) will have change change for a 500. They won't be happy about it, but they won't refuse your business. The bus back (5 one way) will have change for a 200 because of the high volume of travelers but only at busy times during the day, otherwise they may turn you down if you have a 50. The local market vendor selling sugar (30 a kilo) might have change for 200 near the end of the day, but definitely not at the beginning, and it's more likely for a 100.

The kid selling your cokes (15 each) will have change for a 50 at most. And your bread man never has change for more than a 20. The problem is also if you only want a single bread roll (2 each) or glazed donut hole (1 each) that is sold on the street corner in our village. They mostly have change, but when they don't I tricked into buying 5 donuts. Actually, come to think of it, I get tricked a lot.

The First Day of School

This is Jose and his family. We usually refer to it as Jose's family. He's not the oldest, but the family is his because he acts like the boss. I have written much about his family before. I could have a whole blog dedicated to the crazy things he, along with his older brother Jordao (center) and his younger sister Dorcas (right) do and say.

This year in school Jordao is in third grade. He was also in third grade last year. He failed. Jose is in second grade this year. He was in second grade last year. And the year before that, too. Jordao and Jose are mentally challenged, with Jose very much so. As long as he doesn't grow, Jose probably be in second grade until we decide to stop sending him to school.

Jose has a love hate relationship with school. He loves it, getting ready and dressed up to two hours before school actually starts, and then hates it at the end of the year when he finds out he didn't pass. This year was harder because the first two times of second grade he was with a teacher he really liked, but she isn't teaching anymore this year. For his third try at second grade he has a new teacher. Jose can't read, writes in squiggles, and the farthest I've gotten him to count on his own is six.

If Jose was not the happiest kid at the orphanage and such a goofball I would be really worried about him. But since he is the happiest kid at the orphanage I know that this is the perfect place for him. When he is in school he is known as the chief. This is because when the bell rings for recess to end and lessons resume he is passing the teachers lounge shouting at all the late teachers to do their jobs and go back and give their lessons. All the teachers play along and snap to attention and head back to their classrooms.

Jordao isn't exactly as thrilled with school. Where Jose can be described as a child with real deficiencies, Jordao is better described as having struggles. He is an incredibly hard and diligent worker, being 14 years old, but school and thinking just aren't his things. He so far has made it up to third grade in school, but just can't quite get the hang of reading or writing yet. It hasn't clicked for him. Jordao is also fun to have around a source of entertainment because he says the most ridiculous things.

This is the kid that said he wants to grow up to be an airplane.

This is the kid that came home from school early one day and said his teacher didn't show up because she was sick. I asked what was ailing her and Jordao pointed to his midsection and said, "she has a stomach ache." I had to remind Jordao that it wasn't a stomach ache, but his teacher was seven months pregnant.

This is the kid that returned from school from school one day and complained that all day they only studied math. I asked him what the lesson was. He said it was dividing words into syllables.

While Jordao and Jose each have their difficulties, their sister Dorcas seems to not have any of the same problems as her brothers. She seems to be a completely normal six year-old. Which is also hilarious, because six year-olds do some pretty hilarious things when they are not helping me with laundry.

More than any other family at the orphanage, these three really live and play and act like a family unit. Jordao is the older brother who is too-cool-for-school or for playing with dolls or racing cars across the floor. Jose and Dorcas are pretty much at the same mental level and spend all day playing with each other. They are always arguing with each other with Jose constantly reminding her that he is the older one and therefore knows better (and more) than she does. That is probably the one characteristic that is so endearing about the three, is that you can see all the kids together and automatically pick those three out as being family because the way they interact with themselves.

Schools in Mozambique are not full day, with each grade either studying at 7, 10, or 1 o'clock. This year, both Jose and Dorcas get to study at 10 o'clock and Jose is thrilled to get to accompany and protect his little sister at school. The first day of school they got ready three hours early and when we got there they were bummed to find out none of the teachers showed up and to wait one more day.

The next day I headed off with the two of them to show them where their classrooms are (read: to show them which cashew three they'll sit under). There are two paths to school. One cuts through our neighbors yard, and the other one doesn't, so I told them to always take the one that doesn't. This is the exchange that followed.

Dorcas: TJ, I don't want to take this path because there is dogs.

TJ: There are dogs. And no, there aren't dogs.

Jose: Ha. See, I told you there are no dogs.

Dorcas: No, I saw them yesterday.

Jose: Nuh-uh.

Dorcas: Yes I did.

TJ: Where did you see them.

Dorcas: Over there. They're the dogs that go "baaaaaah".

TJ:

Jose:

TJ:

Jose:

TJ and Jose: What!?!

Dorcas: You'll see...

Jose: You don't know what a dog is, do you?

Dorcas: Nuh-uh.

Jose: Uh-huh.

Dorcas: Nuh-uh.

Jose: Uh-huh.

*five minutes later after Dorcas and Jose arguing over who is smarter.

Dorcas: See, over there. TJ do you see the dogs?

TJ: The ones tied to the tree?

TJ: The ones eating grass?

TJ: The ones with the horns and that go "baaaaaaaaaaaah"?

Dorcas: I see them.

TJ: Those are goats.

Dorcas:

Dorcas:

Dorcas: That's what I said. Goats. See, I told you so.

Jose: *facepalm

So if Dorcas confusing goats for dogs wasn't enough entertainment for the day, it just continued. When we get to school everybody is greeting Jose because there is not a single person lives in our village that doesn't know Jose. Even the teachers that are leaving after giving lessons at the 7am shifts are saying hi to him. After seeing all his friends from the year before (that are now in third grade and studying in the morning) he get a dreaded looked on his face and starts tugging at my shirt, "TJ! TJ! TJ! Do you know what I just thought of?" It is hard know what Jose is thinking because A) I am not a mind reader, B) Jose is a kid, C) a kid that planted salt in the garden to see if it would grow, D) a kid that when the light bulb burned out in his room gathered his bunk-mates together to pray for the light bulb to not be sick and E), a kid that I daily see sprinting across the orphanage to the bathroom with one hand down his pants to "pinch it off". For these reasons it is a little hard to know at any given moment what is going through his mind.

Jose tells me that he just realized, after seeing all his friends, that Dorcas doesn't have any friends yet. He gives me his backpack to hold and then runs off. I choose not to follow him with my eyes thinking that sometimes it's just better not to know. Jose returns about two minutes later with a very small, very terrified looking girl and proudly declares, "Dorcas, here is your new friend." I start pondering that maybe this is how Jose makes friends, he just states that you are my friend and I am yours. I start laughing to myself while this scared little girl just stands with Dorcas wondering what is going on.

Then deciding to have a little fun with him, I tell Jose that if her new friend happens to be sick and stays home one day Dorcas will have no friends. Jose suddenly sees the problem and realizes that his sister needs one more friend, that way she won't be without a friend if one doesn't show up. He disappears again and returns in another two minutes with yet another wide-eyed, terrified looking girl and Jose proudly declares, "Here is you other friend." He then takes his backpack and then we—Dorcas, her two new friends, Jose, and myself—sit in awkward silence until the bell rings to start school.

I kept on eye on Dorcas two new "friends" and they were each in a different classroom. I got Jose off to his cashew tree and he starting meeting his new classmates. Dorcas was at this point noticeable more nervous as we walk off to her cashew tree which, fortunately, is right next to Jose's. She was there with about thirty other kids and was I standing to the side with about twenty other parents. The teacher took a moment to introduce herself to the parents and then dismissed us so she could start class for the day.

As I turned to leave to wave goodby to Dorcas she realized now that I was leaving and started to cry. Maybe crying is a strong word, but it was definitely audible whimpering. At this point I am thinking, "No no no no no. Don't start crying. Oh, great. Now she's really crying. Look at all the other kids, they aren't crying, why are you the only one. Look at all the other parents, none of their kids are crying. Why me?" I convinced her that Jose was right there the next tree over and he would take her home after school and then headed back home.

At the end of the day, the two returned smiling and beaming and Dorcas was at first happy to announce to me that tomorrow they were gonna learn how to write their names. Then she was sad to learn that tomorrow was a Saturday and there would be no school. But then happy that the next day she would go. But then sad to learn that after that is Sunday and there is no school either. But then happy to remember that Sunday is church. And then excited the next day would be school.

More thoughts on corruption

In 2004 I got a check in the mail for $13.86. This was pretty unusual for me, who up till this time had only ever received info mailers from colleges and the occasional birthday card. The check was not the oddest thing I've ever gotten in the mail. That would be a razor from the US Army which delivered on my 18th birthday. Attached to the razor was a note saying, “Congratulations, you're a man now,” and a mail-in form to register with the draft board. But I'm getting sidetracked. Apart from the razor, the check was the weirdest thing I had ever received in the mail.

The check was part of a class-action lawsuit I was party to. It was the only class-action case I have been a part of. The suit alleged that the music industry forced retailers to fix higher prices for CDs and penalized them for going under the recommended retail price. These were the days when you would be expected to drop $18 dollars for a CD, and our AOL dial-up connection at home was too slow for Napster to work, so you had to play by their rules. After 3.48 million people signed up for the lawsuit, we each took home a whopping 13 bucks. What did I do when I got the check? I cashed it and bought a CD.

Why did I buy a CD instead of pocketing the money or using it for gas or slurpees or baseball cards or something else? Well, because at the end of day I just really want a new CD and was tired of waiting by the radio and hitting the record button on my tape deck every time a song came on the radio. 

OK, I'm obviously dating myself a little here. Some people reading this never saw the days the days of sitting by the radio waiting to record your favorite song as it came on. Others rejoiced when tape recorders were made available because they could record their LPs onto cassette and put them in their Sony Walkman to take wherever they wanted. Others yet know only of a time dominated by filesharing and playing music on demand from youtube or other places.

The point is as much as I complained back in the day about high CD prices and having no other alternative to getting my music, the fact was that you just shut up and paid 18 dollars because you needed to have not only Speakerboxxx but also The Love Below—I've made countless other purchases but mentioning them would only embarrass me as they haven't stood the test of time. Sometimes, $18 for a CD is just the price you pay to play the game.

And with that, allow me to talk about corruption.

The example of my class-action CD may be a little stretched. There were no riots in the streets in the early part of the last decade over CD prices. Me and the millions of others that got our $13.86 did not put our feet down, draw a line in the sand, and refuse to partake in a rigged system of strong-arming and over-charging. We just kept paying our money and listening to music because there were no (legal) alternatives. I know that nowadays people talk about artists losing millions due to filesharing, but consider the fact there are also more albums being made my more artists year after year in the digital age of "unprofitability" in the music world.

But I'm getting sidetracked. Lets take this back to my post yesterday about corruption. Not to sound defeatist, but many, many, many times in cases of corruption you, the citizen, just have to put up or shut up. Mozambicans have shown the last decades an incredible tolerance for corruption. It is denounced when found and hated in every corner of the country, but rarely does anger reach critical mass needed for policy-changing action. Mozambique has shown a desire to march (read: riot) but those have been in the occasions of raising the prices of bread or bus fares, never because parliament gave themselves a raise, elections were rigged, children undeservedly failed school, neighborhoods were deprived of water and electricity, nepotism, favors, and so forth.

The situations I've personally encountered can't really be mentioned for the sake of privacy, but I usually face two extremes when dealing with people. The first will be that people I come into contact with are so accommodating and helpful because they recognize that I am in Nampula working at an orphanage helping those who otherwise have no voice. There is a great amount of respect for that and they don't complicate things for me or in some cases move me to the front of the line, figuratively speaking. On the other end of the spectrum they assume that, though I may work at an orphanage, my main purpose in Mozambique is to earn money (if they only knew...) and therefore they want a cut of it. Sometime it's something as innocent as a bottle of coke, other times its several hundred dollars.

Several of the kids that have left the orphanage and gone out have come back and asked for a loan because they are trying to get a job and need a bribe in order to get it. There have been other cases where after getting a job they has been pressured by bosses to commit or look the other way from illegal actions or risk being fired for speaking up. Or after getting hired, their direct superior will try to extort bribes from them in exchange for preferential treatment or commendations.

The challenge that I face on my own, and in advising and supporting the kids, is to have a consistent moral ethic and to never draw a line and say, "A coke is OK, or up to ten dollars is OK, or up to $50 because it is something really important." There are some people I know that feel that bribing is OK, all though they usually refer to it as something like "greasing the wheels" or "opening doors". I think if their conscience allows them that, then who am I to say no. But for me, I also have the responsibility of projecting a set of values to the kids here. A bribe opens a revolving door that cycles the expectation of favors or gifts. It may take longer to get your documents or licenses, continue through police checkpoints, get a desired job—often complicating matters is the fact that the choice is not between two different jobs, but having and not having a job—but is it worth it to suffer righteously? That is the question I ask of myself and ask the kids to ask of themselves.

Corruption

People complain about corruption, but some say it is just the way things are done. Need a job, take a slice out to pay the guy who hired you. Need to pass school, pay your teacher. No books for school, buy them out of teachers' homes on the black market. Need medical treatment at the hospital, be prepared to pay a doctor to get to the front of the line.

There are plenty of statistics that pertain to corruption and Mozambique, but most of them are really depressing and really just grasp the "how much" without really addressing the "how". Furthermore, those measures of corruption usually only look at the prices payed by foreign companies or NGO's to get permits, licenses, taxes, importations, and everything else.

The National Anti-Corruption Task Force announced that corruption was down on the whole last year. In particular they highlighted the education system as showing a great drop in illegal or improper practices. The general response by the public was that if corruption dropped, it means they just weren't looking hard enough.

One caveat in understand corruption is that the generation in power now came of age on the tail end of communism in Mozambique when bribing was the only way to get anything accomplished. However, as I have seen others that have not experienced that lifestyle come to positions of influence and power, it is remarkable just how unprincipled people are when the shoe is on the other foot. I've talked with teachers that bemoan how hard it is to get a job at a certain school close to their home because all the openings are auctioned off by the administrators and they cry about how corrupt the system is. Then, they turn around and are selling passing grades or offer to give "special help" to kids in need, a phrase which now makes me cringe every time I hear it

Even for that person that may have been until now uncorrupted, when somebody comes with cash in hand it is a very difficult thing to turn town. Especially knowing that, as a cop for example, all you need is about eight or ten very simple modest traffic stops for running a red light, outdated licenses, or improper vehicle maintenance, and you've just matched your monthly salary. 

For the person that is oppressed, it's very easy to cry foul and lament how it is impossible to get a drivers license, pass a class, get a maintenance worker to fix the electricity in your neighborhood, get the government to approve a document, travel freely, or a myriad of other things. Once that person is put in a position of power—whether it be over a classroom, a patient, or an entire populace—the mantra changes from a how awful oppression is to how they have earned the right after having suffered.

Not to pontificate* but one of the observations I've had is the realization that, in many ways, the default position of the human heart is selfishness. In this way, all those who cry about fairness and preach the Golden Rule concern themselves about it most often when they are the offended party. When they (or I) are in the position of control, it is amazing how the attitude changes from, "This is totally unfair and unjust," to being one of, "I had to go through the same thing, it's time for you to pass through this as well."

*I realize that "pontificate" really means to act like the Pope, but let's just use it in the figurative sense. I will not be conferring sainthood upon anybody and I will not be beautifying anybody other than myself. 

Even among Jesus' disciples, there were issues. I'm not certain what kind of background he had, but as soon as Judas was put in charge of the money he started stealing from it. Now, clearly, Judas had some other problems as well, but it just illustrates that many people I see, when given a position of power, use it to solely to remind others they it is they who are in power and you who are inferior to them.

One of the hardest things for a person to do, whether they be a Christian or not, it to shift their attention from him or herself and focus it on Th Other. Biologists would say this goes against self-preservation instincts. Anthropologists would say it destroys the tribal/societal fabric. Psychologists would say it suppresses the ego. Christians would say it is sin, knowing the good to do and yet failing to do it. It is that mindset that is the basis of Good Samaritan laws. They are not "karmic principles". They are not "societal well-being guidelines". It is the principle that you treat others the way you would want to be treated by them, not according to how you have been treated or how others are treating you.

You would think there would be overwhelming empathy and support for kids who live in an orphanage, yet tragically there is not. There are those that actively oppress the orphanage and the kids here because they grew up in difficult conditions and were made to suffer or when their parents died nobody put them in an orphanage or God made them orphans and it is not for us to alleviate their plight. It is dishearteningly sad, but these are real opinions people have, all hearkening back to the idea that selfishness is the natural inclination of the heart.

On the other hand, I must say that I have been absolutely shocked by the generosity and kindheartedness of the people here. People that do help the kids or the orphanage or even me without any regard or thought to what others would do and are so far removed from many of the expectations that society has for who should help and who should be helped.

There is the story of one man that sticks with me. About a year ago he came up to the gate and was carrying a big box of toddlers clothes and toys. He had taken the bus and then walked about a kilometre to get her. He arrived and said he had some extra clothes and toys laying around and his first thought was in giving it to the orphanage for the kids here to wear and play with. I was thanking him and making small talk with him and asked if hid kids had outgrown the clothes or what the occasion was that inspired his offering. He replied that earlier in the week his three year-old son died and he decided to offer the clothes up because he saw it as the better use than holding on and waiting to see if he had another child. I was moved to tears by the fact that this man, his boy having died that same week, would immediately be thinking of others in such a personal and tragic moment such as this.

I'm not so foolish at to say there is a universal sentiment or make a boilerplate statement about attitudes or practices when it comes. But with that, I'm going to make a universal, boilerplate statement that corruption exists because selfishness prevails.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

Christmas, from my perspective, is generally not the most wonderful time of the year in Mozambique. The most wonderful time of the year might have to be April when the temperature is nice and cool and there is a soccer/football game on the TV every night. Christmas is hot, as in 100F hot. It is also humid, as in all of the humidity. It is also filled with a greater than normal amount of public drunkeness and general levels of crazy that are rivaled only by New Years. It is a level of crazy that is only matched when the national soccer team qualifies for the African Cup (only happened three times ever).

The craziness starts in the stores where the black in "black Friday" stands for black market. And doorbuster deals at Walmart are replaced by wallet buster deals here as prices climbs upwards each day it gets closer to Christmas. The law of supply and demand is in full effect, and demand is at the highest it will be the whole year.

Public workers are also facing the crunch. Not so much on their wallet (although that true for everybody) but on whether or not they should actually show up to work. In the private sector there is a little more leverage given to bosses to fire people for not showing up to work. If a shopkeeper the day before Christmas or New Years (his busiest of the year) is only half-staffed, he will be in big trouble. If the water utility only has half the workers show up, they just put out half the water.

The water situation this time of the year is grave. The rains have started, but it takes a little while to fill up the dams. Most people have to walk to communal water spigots because there just isn't enough supply or pressure to get to the taps in their homes. There is currently a huge project in the city funded by the Millenium Challenge Act to upgrade the infrastructure, but that is making only a statistical improvement in terms of quantities of water that CAN be pumped into homes. People still bust open pipes and flood streets all in the name of finding “free” water. I guy that I know that works for the water utility says that the improvements are nice and the funding is great, but it really isn't going to change anything expect for folks in the city in rich homes (surprise!).

The trouble that most people have this time of year is demand for electricity. Hundreds of people will rent speakers for the week with the objective of just playing music as loud as they can during the holidays. We play music too, except we own our speakers. All these people using their ghetto-blasters creates a surge on an already frail electricity grid. The night of the 24th I was in one bairro about 50 metres away from a transformer that exploded and left the area without electricity till who-knows-when.

Two years ago around Christmas, the transformer in our neighborhood exploded. Four days later we got electricity back and since then there has been a vast improvement in quality of electricity. During the day, it's possible to not know that you haven't had electricity for a matter of hours (as long as you aren't using the internet or running the pump on our well). During the evening, it's much more obvious. When the electricity goes out, it usually comes back within a matter of several hours.

This Christmas season, with the increased demand on electricity, I realized that consistency (to use the word loosely) of the electricity grid is due entirely to the army of technicians that are employed around the clock to keep the system in working order. In short, from December 20th to the 23rd, I can count the number of hours we had electricity during daylight hours on my hand. Hand, as in the singular, not hands plural. From Christmas all the way until new years the electricity came and went. The night of the 31st there was almost as much time without electricity as the city experienced was is known as brown-outs. Parts of the city are dimmed when demand is too high and after a few moments the lights come back on as another part of the city is shut off.

The 1st of January was slightly better, if only because demand for electricity was low. And since the 2nd when the technicians all reported to work hangover free, the electricity has been back to normal.

As for the internet, that has also been plagued by problems the last months, one of the reasons for my sporatic posting. I'm not sure how that works or why there are outages. The last time there was a major outage/slog in the internet was two years ago when an illegal fishing boat snagged with its anchor the only underwater cable connecting Mozambique with the rest of the world. I think in that case the government actually called the US to say, "Come fix your internet," until they finally paid some Indian company to repair it.

Basically, all of the public utility workers staying home for the holidays answered the age-old questions, "What would happen if Superman took the day off?" The idea is that without Superman patroling the streets, criminals would run amok and chaos would envelop whatever fictional city Superman lives in. (Tampa? I'm really not sure. Or is that where Spiderman lives?")

Here, when all the utility workers stayed home, people suffered from water (although that is a problem that dominates about 6 calendar months here in the city and 12 months outside the city) and were inconvenienced with electrical outages, surges, and explosions. Save us, Superman!