Monday, January 23, 2012

$$

"It's not even about the money," she said defensively, "I just don't like being taken advantage of.  Iris and I were buying fruit from some teenagers on the dusty avenue (and only road) in Rincon del Mar.  She added matter-of-factly, "And that's not a sustainable way to develop a micro economy."

The pineapple, papaya and pomelo cost us COP10.000 ($5) and collectively weighed about ten pounds.  I've spent more on organic vegan granola bars that weighed ten grams. But it was the principle of the matter, because the fruit would have cost a non-Gringa COP6.000.

Even in canvass shoes and dirty t-shirts, our imperialism-laden blonde hair is reflected as two fat dollar signs in the eyes of the local vendors.  The scent of the First World emits from the pores of our white skin resulting in an average markup of about 30% on everything we buy.  Of course to us, the relative cost is usually negligible.  The extra expense of a product could quite easily be recovered by going one full day without buying alcohol or dessert--a taxing, but manageable sacrifice.  Whereas for our providers, the influx of capital we supply might be enough to feed their family for a few days. 

Hence my rolling eyes at Iris' indignation. 

I decided to make a New Years resolution to buy more things from people and for people--in other words shop local and be a better gift giver.**  But I must have jinxed myself by framing my intentions as a "resolution" because not two days later I found myself walking down the cobblestone streets of Cartagena with my default-mode tunnel vision.  The pedestrian alleyway swirled with the characteristic kaleidoscope of mangoes, sun hats, earrings, and arepas.  And I glide through the center, unphased and uninterested, too prideful to fall prey to the tourist scalpers.

How do I justify the distinction?  Why does my moral intuition accept being ripped off by teenage fruit vendors on the beach and not by dread-locked bracelet weavers downtown?  Is it appearance? Context? Circumstances?

In Cartagena, I stayed with a girl I met on a bus.  I felt extremely indebted to her for taking me, practically a complete stranger, into her home, introducing me to her friends, feeding me, and showing me around the city.  On my last night I wanted to get her a present and then take her out to a nice dinner (thinking, "New Years resolution. Be a good gift giver.").  That morning, I was buying some sunscreen and she caught me at the cash register and put a toothbrush on the conveyor belt.  She asked if I would get it and she would pay me back later but I told her I that I would just gift it to her.  I figured it was the least I could do.  Turns out it was a $7 toothbrush (the average toothbrush in that store costing about $0.50).  But she was very thankful. "Don't worry about it," I told her, "I was looking for a gift for you anyway."

After that we went walking downtown and suddenly every third window item was of immense interest to her.  "Wow!  Look at that handbag!" A $100 leather purse.  "Isn't it fabulous?"  From shoe store to bra store to hat store, she would longingly stroke the pretty things and then say with a sigh something about if only she could afford it... I know the act because it is identical to the one I performed for 18 years when I lived with my parents.  When you know someone wants to buy you things, you want to maximize the situation in your benefit, it's logical human nature.  She is not a bad person, but I did feel unease about being manipulated. 

I can't seem to figure out what my subconscious criteria is for when I feel someone "deserves" generosity.
The beggars on the streets, the musicians on the bus, the vendors on the beach, the kind waitress, the taxi driver, the black child, the white charity volunteer...
I don't know.


*Disclaimer: I have no intention of making an international economic policy out of my New Years resolution because, as has been explained to me, that is simply not how the world works and not a good strategy for improving depressed economies.  But I will strive for the personal satisfaction of less time spent in supermarkets. And that is all. 

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