The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and mini magnum economics

On Tuesday, to balance out the trials of the day, we decided to take advantage of the Scottish Dancing class up the road. At 7 o’clock we duly trooped out of the house and drove the short way to one of the local hotels – we could walk, but it is wiser to drive back.

The class was a good opportunity to meet other people and have fun. Duncan, an Irish accountant in a coffee company, ran the class and there were teachers from an International School, volunteers and a lady working in micro-finance for farmers. We skipped and danced and laughed our way round a few routines, stopping now and then for a drink and rest from the heat. It was a wonderful tonic.

The Bad – and this just seems to reflect the place somehow – is that we went to the new clinic that Jeremy and Camilla are setting up and all the furniture and toys for children had been stolen. The place was being cleaned regularly and the cleaner left the side gate open; who knows if this was deliberate. It was seats, benches and desks that were taken so people will have seen, but...

[If you want to help by contributing to the charity there is a link at

www.homeopathyforhealthinafrica.org]

All the time we are faced with people taking things from us – the police ‘check points’, anything we buy (they call it the mazungo price, usually about twice what they would charge locals) and so on. The car tyre was flat and we took it for repair, Popo (our African translator) asked the price and it was 15k. When we (all white mazungos now) went back to pay they asked 18k and it was only when we said we would get Popo on the phone to sort this that they took the 15k. [And we know that this is double the price anyway]

I know in some instances people are poor and I am relatively rich, but it is the assumption that they are more entitled to the money/ stuff that makes it tricky. That said, why am I more entitled to it? You have to face difficult things here.

Which brings us to the Ugly. Friday and we are all tired. The last case for Cynthia and me is a little boy – little as in small, he is 16 years old. He has had diarrhoea for 3 years since he fell out of a tree. How is he still alive? His stomach is distended from lack of nutrition, he has boils and spots all over his skin, with ringworm on his scalp. I feel inadequate to help, but we do our best. Then we get home and find that a friend had an upsetting experience  with police asking for bribes. Again I feel compassion but some inadequacy to help.

So in the night I wake up and for the first time I cannot get back to sleep. I realise that I am still shocked from the day so make a hot drink and try to think. It strikes me that in India people beg for money and in Tanzania they take it. What about the West? Well in the West it is more subtle, but worse. In the West it is the very rich people that get the money; through advertisements they brainwash us to feed our addictions – sugar, wheat, alcohol, cigarettes, gambling, fear etc. [the fear means we buy loads of insurance, drugs, beauty products and so on.]

And the mini magnums? Well I love these little ice-cream lollies and bought a few for the odd sunny day we had last summer. Then in September I started watching a TV series I love and in every advert break they advertised mini-magnums. Normally I would never eat ice-cream indoors, I am not interested, but this advertising got to me and in the end I was buying boxes of mini magnums in the autumn. I saw myself eating ice-cream, not because I was hungry, not because I was hot, but because I had been seduced by the advert.

Humph! Most of the excess pricing here is one mini magnum, or less, even a police fine is around 4 – 5 boxes of magnums. I am not so sure what the difference is.