I don't remember much about My Ishmael except for the basic premise- a talking ape who delivers profound wisdom about how the world went wrong. What I remember most about reading this book was the idea that locking up all the food was the one of the first errors. It seemed so simple and so basically rooted in fact that I wonder how we miss it. The solution to our problems. As with every solution that seems so obvious, the answers lie in human nature gone awry- greed, power, lust for control.
Since I was 10, I have been confused by the concept of money. I never could understand why life just didn't work like Monopoly- everyone starts off with equal amounts of money. But more than money, I always dreamed of having a little bit of land to put a simple house on. And in the area where I grew up, there seemed to be such an abundance of land, my desire appeared more than reasonable. I even resorted at one point to taking books out of the library on building my own cabin. I thought I could do it. Just plant a little cabin in the middle of the woods and build a life. That was my dream back then and I still find it to be a sweet idea.
I have accepted that I am not a business person or an economist. I don't love numbers or understand investments. And, while I have developed a slightly more sophisticated understanding of the money systems of the world than I had when I was ten, I still believe that problems can't be resolved with cash. I used to spend long nights wondering why governments wouldn't just print enough money for everyone- though I now see that distributing large bundles of crisp new bills would only bring their value down, I don't really understand how they got to be valuable in the first place.
As my class begins to examine the history of Africa and the resources of Congo, I am even left to ponder how gold became seen as a valuable material to have. Why do we place such importance on things that can't directly contribute to our survival? Why did we ever lock up the food to begin with and start trading it for things we can't actually use?
Perhaps these are the thoughts that led me to refuse my first offer of the newly minted 1,000 Congolese franc. I was stocking up on nuts and spices at my favorite Indian store when I was offered the bill as part of my change. Without thinking, I shook my head and backed away. "Don't you have any francs?" I asked. Later reflection helped me to see that my attitude towards the new money wasn't really based on anything solid- just a general mistrust of something unknown. I want the new bills to have been around awhile before I begin participating in the system. I suspect there are plenty of Congolese who feel the same way. Of course, they have more experience with money being printed, handed out and immediately devalued. I've heard this story too, and perhaps the legacy living in my unconscious is what prompted me to refuse the 1,000 franc.
I'm not sure what this says about me. Still can't tell if I was acting with real world caution or old world myth. But I am always happy to accept the small candies offered when a 50FC is not available or even the odd pack of tissues I received once in place of my 200 FC change. Because what is money anyway, expect a means to get me the things I really need?
