A dollar a day revisited

More than the sun appearing after a torrential rain, sweeter than the cooing of doves after a wind swept night, the relief of the monthly salary surpasses all of this. For a day or two we are intoxicated with our richness. First, we stock our small cupboards with all the provisions they will hold. Then we turn our sights to the one or two items we have been dreaming of all month long- a pair of new cleats to replace the much worn and now full of holes and embarrassment (I tell Mohamed his quickness comes from within and not from the brand of soccer shoe, I tell him first people will remark his technique and later emulate his material style but I know I am speaking to a 12 year old- name brands mean so much at 12. I do remember.) We search for a little baby seat with rollers to keep our princess happy ( and to alleviate the constant villigance we pose when she insists on puling herself up against the wall, the chairs, our legs.) I shut my eyes to the price, don't even calculate conversion to US dollars- something that would surely freeze me immobile with shock at the cost- anything to bring her safety, happiness, and peace of mind for us.

After this spree, we face again our poverty. I remember that the month is long and the salary small. It won't be but a mere week or two before I find myself shopping at the magasin on the corner rather than the grocery store. I will buy in terms of today. I will live for now. What do we want for breakfast? For dinner?

Poverty makes one rethink all else. It is, as is writ, filled with those constant decision making crises which tire one out and leave you useless for more important decision making. We stay close to home, trade off priorities and wager between the three of us who gets to spend what, where and for what purpose.

What is it really like to live on a dollar (or slightly more) a day? I realize my previous post did little to illuminate this.  In a passing conversation a friend said to me, "But surely you go shoppping more than once?" And then I knew. She really doesn't know what it's like over here. (I have flashbacks of my favorite Woody and Buzz clip- a bad video but it plays ay 4:13 the quote- which should be so much more prominent and one I think all too often.)  "You don't know what it's like over here." Woody is exasperated because no one believes him and no one really understands. Oh yeah. I think this quote a million times a day for a million different reasons. For myself and for others. (More on the others yet to come. Indulging in my self pity for a moment- hehe.)

But here it is for us striving to survive on a dollar - or slightly more or less- a day. Ironically, it involves shopping a lot. You visit the corner boutique at least every day, sometimes multiple times a day. Your thoughts are for the moment- the meal, just now, and never for the future.

Here is a sample of things you can buy for 100 franc (about 25cents in US money.) Individual servings are the saving grace of African marketeering. You can buy phone units in terms of 100- or maybe 500- sugar, oil, rice, all the basics portioned out for individual servings.

Eggs are 100 franc each, a single serving of milk also 100- though available in 50 or 150 packets and you can share if you're trying to sweeten your morning tea. Be wary however, cheaper price does mean lesser quality- more "gras mat. , ie fat or veg oil and less 'real milk' powder. I like the condensed milk for milkier tea- 400 franc a can.  The baguette is 150 and we can share the three of us for breakfast. Sugar cubes (I am kind of fascinated by sugar cubes  and now know I am a 'two lumps' tea drinker) can be found for 100 francs but you can also get sugar grains ('sucre rouge' which is actually brown or raw for multiples of 100 or 200 or 500.) The rice pictured is actually 550 france and will last two days or so ( we eat 3 cups of rice per meal with a little left over for the next day's lunch depending on how good the sauce is- it's all about the sauce.)

In a pinch I like my rice with a little red palm oil and a dash of maggi cube- shrimp flavor.  One day  I will capture the oversize Maagi woman billboard who graces the entrance to Abidjan from the aiport. The maagi bullion is such a staple of African life that it has even become an adjective- as witnessed by a friend's account of describing a coworker- 'she's like a maggi cube- into everything, a little bit of this and that, a maagi makes it all better."  I don't think it was a complement in this case. But I do love a maagi sometimes.

So that's a breakfast. We cut out all snacks and sometimes even lunch and look to dinner. There is a pasta week, a poato week and a rice week. Although, to be sure, the boys are all about their rice. Africa is about rice (and sometimes foufou, which they have expressed longing for but I haven't yet searched out. It is here. In Macory I am told. A little community of Congolese with the best eggplant and foufou and all the spices they  might miss- uhm, as expressed by the ever knowledgable taxi drivers.)  Myself, I like attieke which is kind of like couscous but the boys don't like it (yet.)

Living on a dollar a day means  thinking only of the present. Sometimes when I compare things in terms of my transport I am dumbfounded. My taxi to work is 100 franc, less than the cost of a soda. The same as a bissap- the preferred local juice. Mohamed likes garba- a fried fish available in 200 franc, 250 or 300 franc protions. A tasty fish eaten with the hands, comes with a nice sampling of spicy peppers and attieke for 50 franc more.

There is little room for vegetables or fruit in our dollar a day regime. Sometimes I spring for bananas- which can run as much as 100 franc for just one- or, on those days just after payday I buy a sackful of apples for 1500 france. Carrots are a godsend, available in the sack for 550 -850 franc. The little girl eats a lot of those.

In the end, my whole concept of money has changed. Sometimes I am so wearied by trying to determine the best use and bargain deals that I buy n'importe quoi and other times I am full of calculations about how to get the best deal and stretch our money the furthest.

I have long since stopped making conversions. To calculate things in US dollars would render me useless- frozen with shock at the cost of life here. As it is, I wonder how my nounou- who makes a fraction of what I do- still manages to have money at the end of the month when  I have long run out. To be certain, she never eats things like cheese, which is a real weakness of ours- and maybe milk also.

Despite being 6 months pregnant, sometimes when I ask her if she has eaten she will tell me, "Yes, I had bread this morning." I make her bring home some of our moringa leaves and prommise she will drink some tea, but I know it's not enough. In short, living on a dollar a day means you just don't have enough. Ever.