There are many aspects in Zambian culture that I still don't properly understand. One of them is that people are both extremely polite and extremely rude. Nobody wants to tell unpleasant truths, so instead they tell white lies. For instance, there is this guy who often comes to see me at our home (I mentioned how I met him in this blog post. He's starting to annoy me quite a bit but I can't tell that to him because it wouldn't be polite.). He came by several times during the weekend when I was in South Luangwa, and at some point he asked for my number. Obviously, I've instructed my family not to give my number to anyone. In that case, I probably would've told that he should ask the phone number from me when he sees me next time. Instead of that, they claimed that I had changed my number and that they didn't have it – which seems to me like a rather absurd story. Similarly, I've also tried different approaches to declining to give my number and white lies seem to work best. Some guys have simply refused to understand what it means when I say that I don't give my number to strangers.
Then there is the other side of the coin: people are often very rude, at least from a Finnish perspective. A good example of the rudeness was a situation that happened at work. I was supposed to supervise a computer exam for the students. When I went to the computer class, there was a middle-aged man using one of the computers. I told him politely that we are having an exam there and that we need also that computer. He told me that someone had told him that no-one is using the computers at that time and that he was writing some important document for KYP. I tried to be extremely polite and apologized for the misunderstanding but there was no way that he would leave the computer. He told me that he needed it only for a short time, which was in the end 1,5 hours. You might imagine how furious I was because organizing the computer exams is difficult enough even when we can use all the computers. In a situation like this, middle-aged men can be as rude as they want whereas everyone else is expected to accommodate to their needs and be friendly and polite.
(It was also a good lesson for me: even though everything always works out in the end here, it might still be better to plan properly. I'm so used to it now that nothing works as planned that my enthusiasm towards planning has declined and sometimes it has perhaps forced other people to accommodate too much because of my requirements.)
One of the stereotypes about Africa is the communality. It is true, at least here in Zambia. Also that has positive and negative effects from my point of view. It means that basically anyone feels that they have the right to come and talk to me and ask what am I doing here. I understand the curiosity and it's fine with me but it gets a bit tiring sometimes – especially when the discussion turns into my phone number. The positive side is that there are people ready to protect me. When someone has started insulting me, someone else has usually defended me. Or when someone started following me home from the Chawama market, I could just ask some boys to help me and they talked with the guy and I got rid of him.
One of the things that amazed me for a very long time was how nobody seemed to have any money saved for the rainy day. I've since understood that there are actual reasons for that (I know there are probably more of them than the ones that I mention here.). First, the inflation rate in this country is still around 10%, and historically it has been a lot higher. Therefore, it's best to invest the money immediately. Besides that, there are also cultural reasons: If you have money, someone will come to you and ask to borrow it. Because of the requirement to be polite, it is really hard to refuse. And it might be about a sick child or something similar, so you would feel really guilty refusing to lend the money. For the same reason, it is usually possible to borrow money if you really need it. Getting the money back is more difficult, so it's best if you've invested the money so that you cannot lend it to anyone.
So what happens when somebody receives money: Is it all just splurged? A part of it undoubtedly is, and I can understand that. However, a share of it is usually invested. For instance, my family has a fairly big house, that has a small flat separately, where there are tenants. They are also building another small house to the plot. So whenever there is extra money, it is used to buy building materials. That's very common here, and it works as a sort of insurance as well. If everything goes wrong, they can still rely on having they own house and receiving some rent from the tenants.
Monday 26 July 2010
Friday 23 July 2010
Cost of living
€ 1 = K 6450 (Damn Greeks!)
Prices:
K 300 SMS
K 500 Tomato
K 500 Banana
K 500 Frita
K 800 Egg
K 1 000 Apple
K 1 000 Orange
K 1 500 Avocado
K 2 000 Cabbage
K 2 500 0,33 l bottle of lemonade
K 3 000 Local newspaper
K 3 000 Minibus ride in Lusaka
K 3 000 0,5 l of milk
K 3 000 0,33 l of coke
K 3 800 Loaf of bread
K 7 500 90 g chocolate bar
K 8 000 Packet of good biscuits
K 8 000 2 yards of chitenge fabric
K 9 000 Hourly rate in an internet cafe
K 9 000 0,5 l of yoghurt
K 10 000 Second-hand dress
K 10 500 Cappuccino
K 12 000 250 g of real butter
K 12 000 6-inch sandwich at Subway
K 13 000 400 g of beef mince
K 20 000 Live chicken
K 26 000 2 l of cooking oil
K 32 500 The Economist
K 35 000 Medium sized pizza
K 35 000 Taxi to Kamwala South
K 35 000 Pair of second hand jeans
K 50 000 Chicken tikka with rice in an Indian restaurant
K 50 000 90 g of parma ham
K 60 000 10 kg of rice
K 60 000 Pair of new jeans (Made in China)
K 60 000 Dorm bed at a backpackers in Lusaka
K 65 000 25 kg of mealie meal (the ingredient of nsima)
K 150 000 Fixed rate water bill for a month (cheaper if there is a meter).
K 150 000 One-way bus ticket to Lilongwe, Malawi
K 150 000 Night in a lodge
K 400 000 Monthly rent for two rooms in Chawama
K 450 000 45 kg bale of second-hand dresses
K 1 200 000 Monthly rent for two rooms in Roma
K 4 000 000 Semester in UNZA without government bursary
K 10 000 000 Monthly rent for a three bedroom house in Kabulonga.
(The prices obviously vary a lot depending on the quality of the goods and where you buy them, so these are just examples.)
Monthly wages are harder to find. The following are according to JCTR but they seem a bit high compared to what I've heard. They get the data from unions and organizations. (They also publish a basic needs basket monthly.)
Guard: 250 000 – 850 000
Secretary: 1 390 500 – 1 900 000
Teacher: 1 300 300 – 2 200 600
Nurse: 1 300 000 – 3 450 000
If you take a good look at the prices, you'll notice that quite a few things are actually more expensive here than in Europe. Dairy products are particularly expensive as are many imported things: computers can cost double the amount they cost elsewhere. I was told that the reason is a monopoly / oligopoly in many products. So while many things are cheap, to have a “western” lifestyle, you need to pay western prices.
A minibus ride for 2000-3000 kwachas doesn't perhaps sound expensive. But if you stop to think of it for a while, it's about K 100 000 in a month. If you need to take two minibuses to get to work, the price doubles as there are no monthly tickets. In practice, you might end up paying more for public transport here than what you'd pay in Helsinki, where you can buy a monthly ticket. Based on means of transport, you can divide people into three income classes: those who walk to work, those who can afford to take a minibus, and those who have their own cars.
When looking at the wages, you might start wondering how do the poorest even manage to pay the rent (I still do). That's why there can be easily ten people living in two rooms. Extended families live together to keep the fixed costs smaller. This is common especially in Lusaka where housing is more expensive than elsewhere in Zambia.
Prices:
K 300 SMS
K 500 Tomato
K 500 Banana
K 500 Frita
K 800 Egg
K 1 000 Apple
K 1 000 Orange
K 1 500 Avocado
K 2 000 Cabbage
K 2 500 0,33 l bottle of lemonade
K 3 000 Local newspaper
K 3 000 Minibus ride in Lusaka
K 3 000 0,5 l of milk
K 3 000 0,33 l of coke
K 3 800 Loaf of bread
K 7 500 90 g chocolate bar
K 8 000 Packet of good biscuits
K 8 000 2 yards of chitenge fabric
K 9 000 Hourly rate in an internet cafe
K 9 000 0,5 l of yoghurt
K 10 000 Second-hand dress
K 10 500 Cappuccino
K 12 000 250 g of real butter
K 12 000 6-inch sandwich at Subway
K 13 000 400 g of beef mince
K 20 000 Live chicken
K 26 000 2 l of cooking oil
K 32 500 The Economist
K 35 000 Medium sized pizza
K 35 000 Taxi to Kamwala South
K 35 000 Pair of second hand jeans
K 50 000 Chicken tikka with rice in an Indian restaurant
K 50 000 90 g of parma ham
K 60 000 10 kg of rice
K 60 000 Pair of new jeans (Made in China)
K 60 000 Dorm bed at a backpackers in Lusaka
K 65 000 25 kg of mealie meal (the ingredient of nsima)
K 150 000 Fixed rate water bill for a month (cheaper if there is a meter).
K 150 000 One-way bus ticket to Lilongwe, Malawi
K 150 000 Night in a lodge
K 400 000 Monthly rent for two rooms in Chawama
K 450 000 45 kg bale of second-hand dresses
K 1 200 000 Monthly rent for two rooms in Roma
K 4 000 000 Semester in UNZA without government bursary
K 10 000 000 Monthly rent for a three bedroom house in Kabulonga.
(The prices obviously vary a lot depending on the quality of the goods and where you buy them, so these are just examples.)
Monthly wages are harder to find. The following are according to JCTR but they seem a bit high compared to what I've heard. They get the data from unions and organizations. (They also publish a basic needs basket monthly.)
Guard: 250 000 – 850 000
Secretary: 1 390 500 – 1 900 000
Teacher: 1 300 300 – 2 200 600
Nurse: 1 300 000 – 3 450 000
If you take a good look at the prices, you'll notice that quite a few things are actually more expensive here than in Europe. Dairy products are particularly expensive as are many imported things: computers can cost double the amount they cost elsewhere. I was told that the reason is a monopoly / oligopoly in many products. So while many things are cheap, to have a “western” lifestyle, you need to pay western prices.
A minibus ride for 2000-3000 kwachas doesn't perhaps sound expensive. But if you stop to think of it for a while, it's about K 100 000 in a month. If you need to take two minibuses to get to work, the price doubles as there are no monthly tickets. In practice, you might end up paying more for public transport here than what you'd pay in Helsinki, where you can buy a monthly ticket. Based on means of transport, you can divide people into three income classes: those who walk to work, those who can afford to take a minibus, and those who have their own cars.
When looking at the wages, you might start wondering how do the poorest even manage to pay the rent (I still do). That's why there can be easily ten people living in two rooms. Extended families live together to keep the fixed costs smaller. This is common especially in Lusaka where housing is more expensive than elsewhere in Zambia.
Monday 12 July 2010
Second-hand clothing
One of the things that surprised me when I came here was how almost everybody is wearing very Western clothing. The clothes look just like the clothes we wear. There is an obvious reason for that: they are our old clothes that we have donated to some organization. I tend to forget it but sometimes the clothes themselves remind me on that, for instance by having the text Hessischer Radfahrerverband, or SC Althüttendorf Frauensport in the back of a t-shirt.
So how do the clothes come here? What happens to the clothes after we chuck them to a UFF collection bin? According to UFF webpage two thirds of them are baled as such and sold onwards, I'd imagine that most of them end up somewhere in Africa. The rest is sorted already in Finland. Of these, a part will be sold in Finland (6 % from all clothes donated to UFF). Bigger share (15 %) is discarded as waste. And the rest is sold onwards as sorted quality.
The bales usually arrive first at Dar Es Salaam. There, the unsorted bales are opened, sorted and baled again. The sorted bales are then sold onwards again, for instance to Lusaka. In Lusaka, the second-hand clothes end up in Soweto (close to where I work). From there, the bales are again sold onwards. You can see lots of shops advertising 'Salaula' which means 'rummage through a pile' in Bemba. My way to work, Los Angeles road, is filled with vendors selling the lowest quality second-hand clothes. The clothes are on big tables and people can truly rummage through the piles.
Higher quality second-hand clothes are usually sold in proper shops. In fact, this is actually the sector where the father of my family works: he has his own shop in Soweto market selling second-hand clothes. It is actually pretty good business. It brings also a fair number of jobs: in sorting, selling and modifying the clothes. The lowest quality of second-hand clothes are very cheap, so even the poorest can afford to buy clothes.
Unfortunately, nothing is as simple as it might seem. The massive influx of second-hand clothes has had a devastating effect on the textile industry in many African countries, including Zambia. The jobs that have been lost were in formal sector whereas the new jobs are in the informal sector. Then again, a fair question is whether the Zambian textile industry would've been able to compete with Chinese imports. At least second-hand is environmentally sound and generates more jobs than new imports from China.
What would be the optimal solution to this? I don't know – if I knew, I would probably be doing something else than volunteering here. All I can say is that buying low quality clothes and dumping them to charity is a very bad idea, and that buying second-hand at home is a good idea. However, I think the whole issue illustrates well a problem in donating to development aid: The focus is not in the real needs of the poor. Instead, we just want to get rid of our old clothes and have a clean conscience for buying more stuff.
(The picture is from a market somewhere in the countryside. It doesn't quite look like this in Lusaka but Los Angeles road and Soweto market are not the places where I want to go and take photos.)
So how do the clothes come here? What happens to the clothes after we chuck them to a UFF collection bin? According to UFF webpage two thirds of them are baled as such and sold onwards, I'd imagine that most of them end up somewhere in Africa. The rest is sorted already in Finland. Of these, a part will be sold in Finland (6 % from all clothes donated to UFF). Bigger share (15 %) is discarded as waste. And the rest is sold onwards as sorted quality.
The bales usually arrive first at Dar Es Salaam. There, the unsorted bales are opened, sorted and baled again. The sorted bales are then sold onwards again, for instance to Lusaka. In Lusaka, the second-hand clothes end up in Soweto (close to where I work). From there, the bales are again sold onwards. You can see lots of shops advertising 'Salaula' which means 'rummage through a pile' in Bemba. My way to work, Los Angeles road, is filled with vendors selling the lowest quality second-hand clothes. The clothes are on big tables and people can truly rummage through the piles.
Higher quality second-hand clothes are usually sold in proper shops. In fact, this is actually the sector where the father of my family works: he has his own shop in Soweto market selling second-hand clothes. It is actually pretty good business. It brings also a fair number of jobs: in sorting, selling and modifying the clothes. The lowest quality of second-hand clothes are very cheap, so even the poorest can afford to buy clothes.
Unfortunately, nothing is as simple as it might seem. The massive influx of second-hand clothes has had a devastating effect on the textile industry in many African countries, including Zambia. The jobs that have been lost were in formal sector whereas the new jobs are in the informal sector. Then again, a fair question is whether the Zambian textile industry would've been able to compete with Chinese imports. At least second-hand is environmentally sound and generates more jobs than new imports from China.
What would be the optimal solution to this? I don't know – if I knew, I would probably be doing something else than volunteering here. All I can say is that buying low quality clothes and dumping them to charity is a very bad idea, and that buying second-hand at home is a good idea. However, I think the whole issue illustrates well a problem in donating to development aid: The focus is not in the real needs of the poor. Instead, we just want to get rid of our old clothes and have a clean conscience for buying more stuff.
(The picture is from a market somewhere in the countryside. It doesn't quite look like this in Lusaka but Los Angeles road and Soweto market are not the places where I want to go and take photos.)
Wednesday 7 July 2010
Dangers in Africa
The road to Chirundu is quite new: it was rebuilt only three years ago. It is still in a fairly good condition but it has sharp curves and since Chirundu is lower in altitude than Lusaka the descent is steep. There are a lot of trucks driving to Zimbabwe and they are not necessarily in the best possible condition. Because all of this, the road is quite dangerous and it's pretty common to see accidents there. I've seen an overturned fuel truck there twice. Both times, there were a lot of villagers there collecting the fuel. I was absolutely shocked when I saw it for the first time. There were even a few policemen watching the scene but they let the people continue (they probably got their share of it).
I was planning to blog about it when I saw it for the first time but eventually I forgot about it. Now, the recent news from a neighboring country reminded me of it again.
BBC News - DR Congo oil tanker blaze 'kills 220'
I was planning to blog about it when I saw it for the first time but eventually I forgot about it. Now, the recent news from a neighboring country reminded me of it again.
BBC News - DR Congo oil tanker blaze 'kills 220'
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