Mali vs Venezuela
Wednesday April 9, 2008
I have been thinking a lot about Mali in relation to Venezuela. Surprisingly, there are quite a few similarities.
There is always the climate; warm year round with a rainy season and a dry season. I say that even as I remember that Mali is one of the hottest places on the planet. Some days there we dreamed of the temperature dipping into the seventies. Here, that is a regular occurrence and one which causes us to run for our long sleeves and jackets.
Then comes the lack of motivation on the part of the citizenry. This pervades all aspects of life here. I told you about the banks, well that attitude exists throughout society. No one is in a hurry to help and no one is in a hurry to get anywhere. No one is ever on time for anything in either location.
Customer service is the same as well. In this case it is the same simply because it is non-existent. There is not a counter person, waiter, cashier, or operator that is interested in helping you. Don’t even think about suggesting they smile!
Traffic too is similar. There are no laws, no street names, no sense of decorum. Drive however you want to. If you are too defensive you will be run off the road. I think it must also be an unwritten rule here that you have to have something in your hand while operating a vehicle. You can choose what you want; beer, phone, food, cigarette, CD, or all of the above.
These similarities strike me as so odd. Mali is a country living in the past. The people there have nothing, they have never been exposed to anything, and they have no expectations about receiving anything. The streets are dirt and the main mode of transportation is the donkey. When you travel to Mali, you expect that you will have to do without some of the conveniences of our modern lifestyle.
Venezuela, on the other hand, is “Socialism for the 21st Century!” One would think that life here is modern and updated. Instead it’s half way there and half way back. The roads are paved, but they are in terrible shape. There are speed limits and traffic laws, but they are not upheld. There are banks and ATM’s but they rarely function like they should. The electricity and water work most of the time. The infrastructure is crumbling and the line between rich and poor grows wider every day.
Venezuela looks modern, but operates in the past, all the while screaming for recognition as a first world country. It is this weird middle ground that constantly leaves you guessing.
In the meantime, we work for the very rich. The parents of our students have more money than I can even conceive of. They own most of the country and they are the Venezuelans we interact with regularly. This definitely gives us a skewed view of the country. These people have no idea what life on the other side of the coin is like and for the most part, they are terrified of the poor.
I have one student; I’ll call him Jack, whose dad is the CEO of a major bank here. I asked Jack one day how many cars his family owned. His answer was six. Six cars for three drivers; well, four drivers if you count the guy that works for them. Dad has to commute to Caracas every day, but it isn’t too bad because he takes the company helicopter. This in a place where 80% of the population live in poverty.
It is hard to rectify this in my mind. It is also impossible to try and keep up. Zachary and I went to a birthday party for one of his classmates. It was held at a local club. There was catered food, a DJ, a jumpy castle, a giant piñata, and a magician. There was also Chivas for the adults and a hookah if one felt so inspired. The kid was turning six. What ever happened to Pin the Tail on the Donkey and Gunny Sack Races? Zachary wants a small affair for his party in August. It’s a good thing, because I don’t even want to try and compete with that…
So we plod on, strangers in a strange land. And oh how strange we are, I mean it is, oh I don’t know, I’m a little confused. Only 33 days left until vacation…
MJR
I have been thinking a lot about Mali in relation to Venezuela. Surprisingly, there are quite a few similarities.
There is always the climate; warm year round with a rainy season and a dry season. I say that even as I remember that Mali is one of the hottest places on the planet. Some days there we dreamed of the temperature dipping into the seventies. Here, that is a regular occurrence and one which causes us to run for our long sleeves and jackets.
Then comes the lack of motivation on the part of the citizenry. This pervades all aspects of life here. I told you about the banks, well that attitude exists throughout society. No one is in a hurry to help and no one is in a hurry to get anywhere. No one is ever on time for anything in either location.
Customer service is the same as well. In this case it is the same simply because it is non-existent. There is not a counter person, waiter, cashier, or operator that is interested in helping you. Don’t even think about suggesting they smile!
Traffic too is similar. There are no laws, no street names, no sense of decorum. Drive however you want to. If you are too defensive you will be run off the road. I think it must also be an unwritten rule here that you have to have something in your hand while operating a vehicle. You can choose what you want; beer, phone, food, cigarette, CD, or all of the above.
These similarities strike me as so odd. Mali is a country living in the past. The people there have nothing, they have never been exposed to anything, and they have no expectations about receiving anything. The streets are dirt and the main mode of transportation is the donkey. When you travel to Mali, you expect that you will have to do without some of the conveniences of our modern lifestyle.
Venezuela, on the other hand, is “Socialism for the 21st Century!” One would think that life here is modern and updated. Instead it’s half way there and half way back. The roads are paved, but they are in terrible shape. There are speed limits and traffic laws, but they are not upheld. There are banks and ATM’s but they rarely function like they should. The electricity and water work most of the time. The infrastructure is crumbling and the line between rich and poor grows wider every day.
Venezuela looks modern, but operates in the past, all the while screaming for recognition as a first world country. It is this weird middle ground that constantly leaves you guessing.In the meantime, we work for the very rich. The parents of our students have more money than I can even conceive of. They own most of the country and they are the Venezuelans we interact with regularly. This definitely gives us a skewed view of the country. These people have no idea what life on the other side of the coin is like and for the most part, they are terrified of the poor.
I have one student; I’ll call him Jack, whose dad is the CEO of a major bank here. I asked Jack one day how many cars his family owned. His answer was six. Six cars for three drivers; well, four drivers if you count the guy that works for them. Dad has to commute to Caracas every day, but it isn’t too bad because he takes the company helicopter. This in a place where 80% of the population live in poverty.
It is hard to rectify this in my mind. It is also impossible to try and keep up. Zachary and I went to a birthday party for one of his classmates. It was held at a local club. There was catered food, a DJ, a jumpy castle, a giant piñata, and a magician. There was also Chivas for the adults and a hookah if one felt so inspired. The kid was turning six. What ever happened to Pin the Tail on the Donkey and Gunny Sack Races? Zachary wants a small affair for his party in August. It’s a good thing, because I don’t even want to try and compete with that…
So we plod on, strangers in a strange land. And oh how strange we are, I mean it is, oh I don’t know, I’m a little confused. Only 33 days left until vacation…
MJR
posted by Bronx to Timbuktu at 10:49 PM
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