The mail, part two
In case you read the last post, I got a package recently. I don’t want to give the impression that I was ungrateful. On the contrary, I was quite happy to recieve it, and the ordeal simply made getting it so much better. What did I request my parents to send me ? Exactly what I requested : Businessweek, underwear, and processed meat products.
Why did I ask for these things, you may be wondering ? Don’t I have enough to eat, read, and wear ? Are things really that bad ? Well, no, not exactly.
While Africa may be the third world, that doesn’t mean that there is any lack of consumables flooding the market. As in the US much of what hits the shelves comes direct from China. Endless brik-a-brak is sold on the streets and in small shops for cheaper than in the US. The high end in office and home goods is dutifully furnished. There are also a few Western-style supermarkets in the capital and a very good food store in the city close to where I live. Pretty much anything you want you can get, but there is one caveat.
The economics of shopping for higher-end products here are simple : take the American price and multiply by two. The economics of volunteers’ budgets is simple as well : take an American salary and divide by ten. All this means that, psychologically speaking, buying a can of shaving cream will run you about 70 dollars. Spending two dollars on a box of apple juice feels like blowing twenty bucks in the States.
This being a primarily Muslim country also means that pork products are lacking. Even in the high-end supermarkets in Dakar one can hardly find anything worth buying. True, I can buy deli ham for fifteen dollars a pound, but I can also buy fifty bean sandwiches for that price.
For those inclined to pay such amounts, I applaud you. The typical volunteer (myself included), however, is a cheap bastard whose thrift is brought out by the circumstances. Conversely, they are frequently in debt, unable to resist the occasional spending binge (i.e. buyng what is completely normal in the US). Plus, they drink... That is where Mom and Dad step in to fill the gap.
While there are many meaningful things that one can send a volunteer, there are also many unuseful things that one can send. Unuseful items are those that are easily available locally, usually for a tenth the price in the states (before shipping). What tops that list ? Cashews. Second ? Peanuts. Other items include soft drink mixes, toothpaste, cigarettes, and normal clothes. Used clothes from the West are sold by the kilo to resalers, and one can buy a T-shirt for roughly fifty cents. It is not unusual to see kids sporting shirts from Abraham Lincoln Middle School’s D.A.R.E. program or the Jones family reunion. With the other products, multinational corporations learned a while ago what everyone wants and how to sell it.
Other products are definitely attainable and are comparable to those you would find in America. Every white-person store seems to sell the same bizarre selection of French canned items with labels that look like they haven’t been changed in fifty years. The most common items are : tuna, rabbit pate, ravioli, green beans, canned hot dogs, and saurkraut.
So what to send ? Something somewhat expensive, not readily available, and light.
The most cost-effective thing that one can send, hands down, is beef jerky.
Why did I ask for these things, you may be wondering ? Don’t I have enough to eat, read, and wear ? Are things really that bad ? Well, no, not exactly.
While Africa may be the third world, that doesn’t mean that there is any lack of consumables flooding the market. As in the US much of what hits the shelves comes direct from China. Endless brik-a-brak is sold on the streets and in small shops for cheaper than in the US. The high end in office and home goods is dutifully furnished. There are also a few Western-style supermarkets in the capital and a very good food store in the city close to where I live. Pretty much anything you want you can get, but there is one caveat.
The economics of shopping for higher-end products here are simple : take the American price and multiply by two. The economics of volunteers’ budgets is simple as well : take an American salary and divide by ten. All this means that, psychologically speaking, buying a can of shaving cream will run you about 70 dollars. Spending two dollars on a box of apple juice feels like blowing twenty bucks in the States.
This being a primarily Muslim country also means that pork products are lacking. Even in the high-end supermarkets in Dakar one can hardly find anything worth buying. True, I can buy deli ham for fifteen dollars a pound, but I can also buy fifty bean sandwiches for that price.
For those inclined to pay such amounts, I applaud you. The typical volunteer (myself included), however, is a cheap bastard whose thrift is brought out by the circumstances. Conversely, they are frequently in debt, unable to resist the occasional spending binge (i.e. buyng what is completely normal in the US). Plus, they drink... That is where Mom and Dad step in to fill the gap.
While there are many meaningful things that one can send a volunteer, there are also many unuseful things that one can send. Unuseful items are those that are easily available locally, usually for a tenth the price in the states (before shipping). What tops that list ? Cashews. Second ? Peanuts. Other items include soft drink mixes, toothpaste, cigarettes, and normal clothes. Used clothes from the West are sold by the kilo to resalers, and one can buy a T-shirt for roughly fifty cents. It is not unusual to see kids sporting shirts from Abraham Lincoln Middle School’s D.A.R.E. program or the Jones family reunion. With the other products, multinational corporations learned a while ago what everyone wants and how to sell it.
Other products are definitely attainable and are comparable to those you would find in America. Every white-person store seems to sell the same bizarre selection of French canned items with labels that look like they haven’t been changed in fifty years. The most common items are : tuna, rabbit pate, ravioli, green beans, canned hot dogs, and saurkraut.
So what to send ? Something somewhat expensive, not readily available, and light.
The most cost-effective thing that one can send, hands down, is beef jerky.

4 Comments:
I'm hijacking your blog, Dan.
Hello All
Due to an extraordinary intervention by the Ministry of Education of the People's Republic,
I have been designated a "Foreign Expert" and 'at the request of the Ministry, urged to apply forthwith for a visa for temporary resdience in the P.R.C.'
In short, I am off to China on September 29 for a 9 1/2 month assignment having to do with "Expertise".
I'm looking forward to taking part in that great Proletarian experiment on the Asian mainland.
However, lately I've been hearing rumors that the Cultural Revolution is over. If I've missed it, I'll be disconsolate.
Dan, I ran into Erina Namihara at the library and she sends her regards. I mentioned your posting and she said that one of her friends is in the Corps (Peace, not Marine) in Zambia.
Financial Update: I've signed a contract with the Foreign Language Institute at Binhai, a fixed amount payable in Renminbi (literally: 'People's Money'). If Treasury Secretary Paulson succeeds in getting China to revalue the RMB,
I stand to reap a windfall of anywhere from 5 to 50 per cent!
Hi Dan, it's Dad. I'm currently in my apartment at Binhai College, a 4 year liberal arts school, in the Dagang district of Tianjin province, about 90 miles southeast of Beijing. This district borders the Yellow Sea and is a center of offshore oil drilling and refining. As such, the air has a bit of a sulfurous tang, but the other pollutants seem to be low. I have a great apartment and the Practical English departmnet is good. I was hooked up to the net within six hours of my arrival. Though this is part of a big city, the smooth dominance of our retail culture is not strongly in force, and I doubt whether China will lose its distinctiveness no matter which direction development takes. It's still a shock and a bit of a thrill to see that red flag flying with its yellow stars, though without any question it's the Market all the way here. On the side of the expressways you see gas stations with the brand "Sinopec". Dig it.
Dan,
Today my American teacher friend, a Chinese student and I went to Tianjin. We took a local "gypsy" or unofficial bus, or as my friend called it, a "pirate" and made all the stops. The trip took an hour. The conductor, a guy with tattoos running up and down his t-shirted arms, got into some trouble with one of the passengers who claimed he had been overcharged by one or two yuan (12-24 cents) on his six yuan fare. Tempers started to flare, a rare event among Chinese people who are by and large the most temperate and self-controlled I've ever seen. After the little flarre-up the conductor asserted his control by bellowing what sounded like abuse at everybody who got on. And no wonder. The seating capacity of roughly 30 had been exceeded by 50% and the bodies were splling into the aisles and out of the aisles into the seats.
But of course nothing serious happened and the little incident merely added to the local color.
Tianjin is kind of a workaday city, very large, monumental in the Chinese way, with a little beauty added by two college campuses our "central" campus of Nankai (viewed lots of Orientalia there, little ponds, green nooks, dwarf trees, rocks in streams etc etc, the same buy obviously did the landscape at Binhai) and also Tianjin University, which seemed to have a more American look to it: full size trees, quads, big lawns and so on.
We refreshed ourselves at a local eatery with a dumpling soup which was satisfying if not exactly gourmet fare. My friend, whom I suspect comes from a long line of Colombian millionaires, is a vegetarian and was upset to find egg yold in the dumpling. Adding to his discomfort was the price for a this pretty substantial bowl of soup: 35 yuan for 3 people, a grand total of $4.75. And of course he was right, here in the boondocks of Dagang you could have gotten the same for 20.
Then we had our techno-linguistic encounter with globalization and its effect on
what I'm going to call post-communist China. Three months ago my friend had bought a laptop (actually, several) from an elecronics mega-mall (not in our sense, the merchants are piled hodge podge and cheek by jowl into a ten-story building) and one day most of his work vanished. We spend an hour and a half
sitting down with their technicians and conversing in pidgin English-Chinese, with the occasional, (and you can imagine, important) intervention of our Chinese student-interpreter, himself the master of very rudimentary English. But no matter, after endless explanations and false starts, everybody was satisfied.
Who needs language? Computerese is universal.
Fresh from our technical success, we walked another mile and a half (on top of the mile and a half we had walked to get there) to Carrefour, and this must be one of the most crowded of all earthly Carrefours. The Tianjinites were doing their evening shopping, and the line to get produce weighed and bagged rivaled the round the block queues that greeted the first Star Wars picture. Conclusion: no fruits or vegetables purchased, but many packages of frozen dumplings and dried noodles.
Then it was our turn to catch the bus back to Dagang, and we were brave, venturing out into the biggest and meanest traffic flow I've ever seen, skipping one sardine-packed bus after another, dodging crazed bicyclists and drivers,
stopping to give a beggar (yes, you do see them because they're their) a one-cent bill (10 jiao = 1 yuan 1 yuan = 12 cents, ergo my 5 jiao alms a 6 cent score for Mr. Beggar).
Imagine the biggest stadium you've been in, filled to capacity. And every person in it is either walking, biking, motorbiking, or driving. That's the street at rush hour in a Chinese city. Most of the grandeur of China rests in the enormous crush of humanity. They've learned how to live in this space by the billion, which takes quite a bit of maturity and self control. The scene was chaos, but not anarchy.
Finally getting onto a serviceable bus a teenage boy very kindly gave up his seat for me, and we left the relatively cosmopolitan and modestly prosperous city proper for some rather dodgy precincts on the outside, until we finally saw the lights of our beloved Binhai campus and the looming presence of Dagang's bustling but rather dingy business district behind. We still had another 3/4 mile to walk (yes, a billion people but it's a big, big country and the distances can be phenomenal, the buldings are low rise and populated areas are spread out) but
before we could cross the road we had to navigate traffic comparable to a small expressway in chicago. I was truly afraid i would be hit by traffic oncoming from what seemed at least three directions (also, by then it was dark).
As you see, I survived. I'm now back 'home' and so I'll leave you with a jaunty
"wozhin hao" (good evening) until later.
Dad
Dan:
First, I want to thank the Senegalese people and their American patrons for buying so many Chinese goods. Your generous support allows the Chinese Education Ministry to support me in the style to which I've become accustomed, while I'm here in the People's Republic helping to Sinicize the world.
Secondly, and on a more somber note,
I am lodging a formal protest with you about your lack of comment on my new blog. I have used generous portion of the People's Bandwith to create and maintain it. In line with the reform movement and market centered orientation of the New China, the Ministry informs me that unless my blog gets enough hits to support some advertising, it will be sold off to foreign or overseas Chinese interests.
While you await further instructions, the Central Committee encourages you to amuse yourself in any way that stimulates demand for indigenous products and furthers the development goals set forth by the government's Market Reform Commission.
David
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