Our nounou is having a baby. Christine has been with us since before Mbalia was born, but now she's off to have her own little cutie. My new nanny search went right down to the wire. It took me some time to adjust to the idea that I would have to find someone new- which resulted in a bit of procrastination on my part.
About a week or so before Christine was leaving I finally started interviewing. The first applicant wanted too much in transport. In fact, the transportation allowance wasn't all that far from the monthly salary. When I pointed this out and asked if she could propose a solution she remained silent. I took this to mean bargaining was out of the question and continued the search. The second possiblility kept insisting on sleeping over, something I had no desire or physical space for, especially since on many days I finish well before 4:00. I kept imagining a nanny underfoot all evening and long into the night. I felt a moment of terror imagining the small seconds of privacy I currently cling to being ripped from my fingertips. I kept searching.
Then I met Koro. She was the third applicant and the most promising. After meeting at the main road, we'd managed to walk back to the house making small talk and finding common ground. She was willing to negotiate on the transport and I was happily able to accomodate a slightly later start time (thanks to Mohamed being home and able to step in for a few minutes each morning.)
Koro has picked up the tasks around with house with ease and Mbalia transitioned to a new care giver after just a few days. Having her brothers home surely helped with this. I came home one day to find 500 franc on the table. Apparently I;d left it in my pocket and it had come out in the wash. I never leave money in my pocket, mostly because I never have pockets. I do have one jean skirt with pockets, however, and I've noticed my hands tend to gravitate there when I wear it.
I was preoccupied with other details and shrugged the 500 franc off with a quick thanks. A bit later I thought about what returning the 500 franc said about her honesty. And a bit later yet I remembered an email I'd gotten from a friend at a time when she was going through a nanny search. Inviting someone into your home to care for your children and clean up your messes can be a disturbingly intimate affair. There are issues of trust and competence and moral alignment, aside from cultural, educational and linguistic bridges to cross. My friend had been doubting the honesty of her nanny and wondered if she should test it out by putting some small francs in a pocket to be washed.
Suddenly my 500 francs on the table took on new meaning. I groaned at the thought. I imagined nannies everywhere starting new jobs and finding small bills in the wash. The old 500-franc-in-the-pocket-trick initiation test. I hadn't done it on purpose, and I don't even really know if it is a thing, but my mind was busy imagining a clique of nannies huddling in a circle after work, laughing at the unimaginative white women who kept putting loose ch.ange in their pockets hoping to test the fidelity of a new employee.
I really hope she didn't think I'd done it on purpose. I'd hate to be perceived as so cliche. I realized soon enough that even if she did think it was a calculated move, she probably wasn't thinking too much about it. Just another new-to-the-job hurdle to jump in her world.A little bit of eye opening perspective in mine.
Showing posts with label pocket change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pocket change. Show all posts
30.9.14
Must be the monnaie
Numbers and I have always had a precarious relationship. I like the number 12 (a direct result of this animation, which I recall perfectly from my youth. I recently had the good pleasure of singing this to a friend who joined right in. I am not alone.)
I mostly enjoyed algebra class- when everything fit like pieces of a puzzle. (It was just later when I got home and tried to replicate the things we learned in class that I got stuck and frustrated.) I am a math person, as long as it's in the middle school/elementary range. Or maybe it's about topic. No matter how I have pushed myself, researched and tried to educate myself, it's finances that remain murky. I can balance a checkbook. At least I get the concept of deposits and withdrawals. But I have never been able to fully grasp the nuances of money systems or how to compare them. (Not to be confused with converting them- I've actually gotten better at that. I can think in two-or even three!- money systems at the same time. )
While I can't discuss what it means that 1,000 Congolese franc equals about 1 US dollar and 1,000XOF (franc cfa) equals about 2 US dollars (oh how it puzzles me, what does this mean?) I can share my observations of money.
In Kinshasa, ATM's spit out 100 dollar bills as if they were singles. There, I was up on all the latest changes in American money. The most recent version downright resembles Monopoly money. In fact, shortly after a machine spewed these out at me, I found myself at the Embassy paying for extra pages in my passport. A man at the window next to me leaned over in curiosity and asked if that was the new 100, the way you might inquire about the new iPhone or the latest Mercurials (up to version Vapor 8 apparently.) The point is in America my life was never graced with so many Benjamins. In fact, in some parts, walking around with too many of these is suspicious behavior. In Kinshasa, there's not much choice. Luckily, changing your bill into more manageable quantities is no problem. Money changers line the roads ready to convert your $100 into any combination of Congolese francs and US dollars.
Here in Abidjan, $100's are nowhere to be found. The currency of choice is the Franc CFA and changing US dollars requires searching high and low and long and far. The airport and the Golf Hotel are probably your best bets. The money changers so common to Kin may also be found in Abidjan, but not in my neighborhood. (Back in December when we were visiting, we couldn't really find them in any neighborhood.) So, I'm learning to think in Franc CFA and it's quite deceiving. I have to remember not to equate it with the Congolese franc; its actually about double the amount.
Both countries use similar denominations. That is, the 500 bill is considered a small bill and pretty common. Next is the 1,000- also often in use (though I do remember my initial skepticism and avoidance when it first came out in Kinshasa. All new money looks like play money.) They both also have the 5,000. Ivory Coast continues the trend with a 10,000. It is purple and gold and has a fancy security feature that involves hidden numbers shown only in black light.
Abidjan has a coin system in place whereas Kinshasa does not. Even when the smaller numbers (100's, 50's, 10's) were more popular and in use, they were in paper form. Abidjan, however, offers coins in 500, 200, 100, 50, 25, 10 and 5 - though the last 3 aren't good for much more than adding up to 50. You can buy a lollipop or other piece of candy for 50XOF. There's even the 250 coin, which reminds me of the half dollar or a two dollar bill. I always feel kind of lucky when I get one, as if they are rare (not sure there is any merit at all to this sentiment.) It's nice to have change again. Change has a way of feeling like extra money (rather than left over money.) Its small status somehow escapes the real money radar and anything purchased with accumulated change takes on a bonus status. It makes money fun again (though in dire budget planning this can be a deadly perspective to hold onto.)
Oddly- and frustratingly- enough, change is the thing both countries seem to lack. Not coins but small bills in return for large ones. Although ATM's in Kin seem to deal exclusively in large bills, many stores don't have the smaller bills to accommodate a purchase with a 100 dollar bill. The way to handle this in Kin is to get yourself- or send a younger gopher- to a streetside money man or woman.
I mostly enjoyed algebra class- when everything fit like pieces of a puzzle. (It was just later when I got home and tried to replicate the things we learned in class that I got stuck and frustrated.) I am a math person, as long as it's in the middle school/elementary range. Or maybe it's about topic. No matter how I have pushed myself, researched and tried to educate myself, it's finances that remain murky. I can balance a checkbook. At least I get the concept of deposits and withdrawals. But I have never been able to fully grasp the nuances of money systems or how to compare them. (Not to be confused with converting them- I've actually gotten better at that. I can think in two-or even three!- money systems at the same time. )
While I can't discuss what it means that 1,000 Congolese franc equals about 1 US dollar and 1,000XOF (franc cfa) equals about 2 US dollars (oh how it puzzles me, what does this mean?) I can share my observations of money.
In Kinshasa, ATM's spit out 100 dollar bills as if they were singles. There, I was up on all the latest changes in American money. The most recent version downright resembles Monopoly money. In fact, shortly after a machine spewed these out at me, I found myself at the Embassy paying for extra pages in my passport. A man at the window next to me leaned over in curiosity and asked if that was the new 100, the way you might inquire about the new iPhone or the latest Mercurials (up to version Vapor 8 apparently.) The point is in America my life was never graced with so many Benjamins. In fact, in some parts, walking around with too many of these is suspicious behavior. In Kinshasa, there's not much choice. Luckily, changing your bill into more manageable quantities is no problem. Money changers line the roads ready to convert your $100 into any combination of Congolese francs and US dollars.
 |
| Not my hands, or my money, though when I first got one of these I felt an overwhelming urge to take a photo. It appeared so completely fake. |
Here in Abidjan, $100's are nowhere to be found. The currency of choice is the Franc CFA and changing US dollars requires searching high and low and long and far. The airport and the Golf Hotel are probably your best bets. The money changers so common to Kin may also be found in Abidjan, but not in my neighborhood. (Back in December when we were visiting, we couldn't really find them in any neighborhood.) So, I'm learning to think in Franc CFA and it's quite deceiving. I have to remember not to equate it with the Congolese franc; its actually about double the amount.
Both countries use similar denominations. That is, the 500 bill is considered a small bill and pretty common. Next is the 1,000- also often in use (though I do remember my initial skepticism and avoidance when it first came out in Kinshasa. All new money looks like play money.) They both also have the 5,000. Ivory Coast continues the trend with a 10,000. It is purple and gold and has a fancy security feature that involves hidden numbers shown only in black light.
Abidjan has a coin system in place whereas Kinshasa does not. Even when the smaller numbers (100's, 50's, 10's) were more popular and in use, they were in paper form. Abidjan, however, offers coins in 500, 200, 100, 50, 25, 10 and 5 - though the last 3 aren't good for much more than adding up to 50. You can buy a lollipop or other piece of candy for 50XOF. There's even the 250 coin, which reminds me of the half dollar or a two dollar bill. I always feel kind of lucky when I get one, as if they are rare (not sure there is any merit at all to this sentiment.) It's nice to have change again. Change has a way of feeling like extra money (rather than left over money.) Its small status somehow escapes the real money radar and anything purchased with accumulated change takes on a bonus status. It makes money fun again (though in dire budget planning this can be a deadly perspective to hold onto.)
 |
| It's possible-and fun- to have a pocket full of change again. 100XOF can get you a taxi ride in a yellow cab (and if that sounds like a carnival ride, its probably not too far off the mark) |
Oddly- and frustratingly- enough, change is the thing both countries seem to lack. Not coins but small bills in return for large ones. Although ATM's in Kin seem to deal exclusively in large bills, many stores don't have the smaller bills to accommodate a purchase with a 100 dollar bill. The way to handle this in Kin is to get yourself- or send a younger gopher- to a streetside money man or woman.
In Abidjan the problem is the same- lack of change- but the symptoms are different. There aren't money stalls banking their business on your inability to change the dollar. The dollar doesn't rule here- only the Franc CFA talks (and that's good for Cote d'Ivoire, right? I really want to understand the financial intricacies here.) But finding change for the bigger bills like the 10,000 (about $20) is a challenge.
One of the most perplexing situations to me is the taxi. If you're not carrying exact change, it's standard procedure to announce how much you have and verify the driver has 'monnaie'- French for change. Even though I know this now, I still find myself in situations where I only have a large bill which I forgot to announce, or sometimes even a not so large bill, and the taxi man has nothing. Nothing? Really? If taxi driving was my business I think I would realize my need to carry some change. For my customers. Who might have large bills.
Just now as I am writing this, it's finally all coming together. On those occasions when I have forgotten to announce my large bill the driver responds in one of three ways when this happens:
1. Nods his head and pulls out the proper change.
2. Gets mad, sighs and starts searching around for some change- or I send one of the boys off in search if they're with me
3. Gets mad, sighs, says he doesn't have change and then magically produces change from some hidden compartment
In one case, I went in to buy some bread in order to get change and - due to the slow line I waited in- the driver came in after me impatient and yelling about how I should have change (me? I'm the consumer. Isn't providing change part of the seller's service?) Meanwhile I was busy thinking about how I didn't even really need the bread..... but just now I am understanding some obvious reasons why taxi drivers might not carry a lot of change on them.
In one particularly friendly mood I inquired about the lack of a radio and whether or not the silence all day was a bother. He told me he'd recently been robbed, strapped to his seat while they stole all of his money, the radio and even the taxi meter. I guess in that situation it might be better to have less cash on you. So that explains the cab drivers not having change.
But it doesn't help in understanding why the stores never have any. I've left purchases on the counter and walked out empty handed because the cashier could not provide change for a 10,000 bill. I can't unravel the implications that the equivalent of 20 dollars seems so extravagant and at the same time doesn't buy very much.
I've been trying to determine which city is more expensive- another mind puzzle I can't quite work through. In the end, I relent that there is no real comparing them- they're just different. Some things I want to snatch up by the dozens (carrots, for example, which seem incredibly affordable here, not to mention appetizing, after Kin's limp, skinny, high priced carrots.) Other things are expensive, plain and simple. And the lack of a Goma cheese substitute has driven me to research cheese making methods (more on that in an upcoming post on home schooling.) But when times get tough, we can always splurge on a lollipop- passion fruit flavor- for a mere 50franc.
 |
| One of Mohamed's favorite treats- sold a mere 150 paces or so from our front door |
22.9.13
A random collection of facts
I've been trying hard to break out of my doctor and traffic jam rut. It's been difficult. You might think I spend all my time driving to clinics, when, in fact, I am a fairly healthy person who spends a lot of time at home. Hence the reason why I have been finding it hard to come across topics for my failing blog. Among other reasons, change is hard and words have been scarce lately.
But I do have a random collection of thoughts that might make for light reading. I'll merge the doctor/traffic stories with a few others for variety.
I spend a lot of time pondering where to go next in life. Working at an international school sort of compels you to be constantly considering where to move on to. Not many people are in it for life- well, not settling down in one country anyway, and certainly not in Congo. I think a lot about the pros and cons of living here. Things we miss most are just walking around and having somewhere to go. Life in a city kind of rules out nature hikes- life in Kinshasa kind of rules out public parks- but other cities often have museums, cultural centers, cinemas or other pastimes to keep the family engaged. Dining out seems to be the major venue of entertainment here.
What stands out is the lack of tourism. There aren't beaches, art festivals (ok, there is a jazz festival every June, and the newly launched Toseka comedy festival) or other attractions to pull people here. The lack of tourism has a definite effect on the psyche of the people. Foreigners are seen as cash cows, overflowing piggy banks ready to vomit US dollars to anyone who asks. African countries with a healthy tourist trade get the idea that their culture is valued, interesting and can serve as a point of engagement with the visiting foreigner. They are willing to exchange a service for a fee. Congo doesn't rank on this list of 25 least visited countries in the world, but it does make the top 10 of Africa's least visited countries.
Customer service is a huge obstacle to making Kinshasa a tourist destination. While I have noticed occasional improvements, the rule of thumb still seems to be the customer will get served when and if the service provider is ready (and finished talking with her cousin, mother, boyfriend and inspecting her fingernails or checking her phone messages, updating FB status, etc.) I had the opportunity to check out the new Canadian clinic in town (not sure what the Canadian part refers to- where the materials came from- Quebec- or perhaps where the owner is from? Kin does have a large population of Indian/Canadians.)
As a new patient, I was checked in by filling out my information on some kind of touchscreen tablet. The Congolese receptionist was gushingly nice and even stopped her conversation with a technician to assist me. I waited a mere 10 or 15 minutes to see the doctor, who seemed equally attentive. He did ask me to be patient for just one minute (I noticed he answered an email) and his phone only rang 3 or 4 times, but he did keep the conversations short. The next day I received my own email with lab results and a prescription attached. Of course, campus connection prevented me from opening my gmail and had me running around the house and even into the backyard trying to find a hotspot. All in all, the operation was impressive and congenial.
Kinshasa has low tech conveniences as well- one of which is the fact that you don't always have to buy the whole thing. Meaning there are a variety of goods that are available for purchase in smaller quantities, quantities to fit a tight budget. Probably most of Africa is like this but I find comfort in knowing I can get a little bag of milk powder if I am running short just as my pockets are empty. I remember counting change in the US for gas or a gallon of milk. While there are no coins in Kin, a bundle of 100 or 200 franc serves the same purpose. You can buy flour, rice, sugar, peanuts and peanut butter all in quantities to suit. It seems pretty much anything that comes in a container can be opened and portioned out. Paint thinner, red oil for cooking, gasoline for the car, phone units. I even remember the pharmacy downtown with a pill hawker out front. No need to buy the whole bottle, just one or two ibuprofen for the moment. Of course, once opened.....buy at your own risk.
Traffic poses its own set of risks and I would not be surprised if car accidents ranked among the number 1 cause of death. This website suggests Congo ranks 7th for highest traffic related deaths (not sure how access and availability of medical care is calculated into that ranking.) While you can't always put much stock in the ranking systems of the media, observations certainly count for something. My first grade art class began the year discussing different types of lines. I was surprised when one of the boys began to explain how double, single and dashed lines were used in the road. They really knew a lot about lines but this small bit of knowledge doubly amazed me since there are no lines on the roads in Kinshasa. It has occurred to me (my driving thoughts include brainstorming ways to fix Kinshasa road rage, impatience and 'me first' attitudes) that painting a line on the road might be one small step. I also propose raising the curb to about a foot or so (or maybe installing the fire and ice barbed wire or broken glass spikes that are so popular on property wall tops directly onto the curb to prevent cars from driving onto the sidewalks. Beautiful commentary about those very walls and glass shards here.) People say when Kabila the father was president the infamous third lane would never have happened. They don't usually elaborate much on his methods for maintaining roadway control but hints usually suggest something severely effective and severely severe.
But I do have a random collection of thoughts that might make for light reading. I'll merge the doctor/traffic stories with a few others for variety.
I spend a lot of time pondering where to go next in life. Working at an international school sort of compels you to be constantly considering where to move on to. Not many people are in it for life- well, not settling down in one country anyway, and certainly not in Congo. I think a lot about the pros and cons of living here. Things we miss most are just walking around and having somewhere to go. Life in a city kind of rules out nature hikes- life in Kinshasa kind of rules out public parks- but other cities often have museums, cultural centers, cinemas or other pastimes to keep the family engaged. Dining out seems to be the major venue of entertainment here.
What stands out is the lack of tourism. There aren't beaches, art festivals (ok, there is a jazz festival every June, and the newly launched Toseka comedy festival) or other attractions to pull people here. The lack of tourism has a definite effect on the psyche of the people. Foreigners are seen as cash cows, overflowing piggy banks ready to vomit US dollars to anyone who asks. African countries with a healthy tourist trade get the idea that their culture is valued, interesting and can serve as a point of engagement with the visiting foreigner. They are willing to exchange a service for a fee. Congo doesn't rank on this list of 25 least visited countries in the world, but it does make the top 10 of Africa's least visited countries.
Customer service is a huge obstacle to making Kinshasa a tourist destination. While I have noticed occasional improvements, the rule of thumb still seems to be the customer will get served when and if the service provider is ready (and finished talking with her cousin, mother, boyfriend and inspecting her fingernails or checking her phone messages, updating FB status, etc.) I had the opportunity to check out the new Canadian clinic in town (not sure what the Canadian part refers to- where the materials came from- Quebec- or perhaps where the owner is from? Kin does have a large population of Indian/Canadians.)
As a new patient, I was checked in by filling out my information on some kind of touchscreen tablet. The Congolese receptionist was gushingly nice and even stopped her conversation with a technician to assist me. I waited a mere 10 or 15 minutes to see the doctor, who seemed equally attentive. He did ask me to be patient for just one minute (I noticed he answered an email) and his phone only rang 3 or 4 times, but he did keep the conversations short. The next day I received my own email with lab results and a prescription attached. Of course, campus connection prevented me from opening my gmail and had me running around the house and even into the backyard trying to find a hotspot. All in all, the operation was impressive and congenial.
Kinshasa has low tech conveniences as well- one of which is the fact that you don't always have to buy the whole thing. Meaning there are a variety of goods that are available for purchase in smaller quantities, quantities to fit a tight budget. Probably most of Africa is like this but I find comfort in knowing I can get a little bag of milk powder if I am running short just as my pockets are empty. I remember counting change in the US for gas or a gallon of milk. While there are no coins in Kin, a bundle of 100 or 200 franc serves the same purpose. You can buy flour, rice, sugar, peanuts and peanut butter all in quantities to suit. It seems pretty much anything that comes in a container can be opened and portioned out. Paint thinner, red oil for cooking, gasoline for the car, phone units. I even remember the pharmacy downtown with a pill hawker out front. No need to buy the whole bottle, just one or two ibuprofen for the moment. Of course, once opened.....buy at your own risk.
Traffic poses its own set of risks and I would not be surprised if car accidents ranked among the number 1 cause of death. This website suggests Congo ranks 7th for highest traffic related deaths (not sure how access and availability of medical care is calculated into that ranking.) While you can't always put much stock in the ranking systems of the media, observations certainly count for something. My first grade art class began the year discussing different types of lines. I was surprised when one of the boys began to explain how double, single and dashed lines were used in the road. They really knew a lot about lines but this small bit of knowledge doubly amazed me since there are no lines on the roads in Kinshasa. It has occurred to me (my driving thoughts include brainstorming ways to fix Kinshasa road rage, impatience and 'me first' attitudes) that painting a line on the road might be one small step. I also propose raising the curb to about a foot or so (or maybe installing the fire and ice barbed wire or broken glass spikes that are so popular on property wall tops directly onto the curb to prevent cars from driving onto the sidewalks. Beautiful commentary about those very walls and glass shards here.) People say when Kabila the father was president the infamous third lane would never have happened. They don't usually elaborate much on his methods for maintaining roadway control but hints usually suggest something severely effective and severely severe.
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