If you walk into the market in Manjacaze, you might be very impressed. I think Manjacaze has one of the best markets in Gaza, but I also am a bit biased.
The market in Manjacaze has a few things that I really love. First is the fancy “banca” owned by a sassy lady I just call Dona. She also refrains from asking my name and calls me Amiga. Now a fancy banca really means she has a stall with lots of different convenience items. She is my go-to lady for bug spray, toilet paper, dish soap, etc. She also sometimes has great chocolate cookies and quality fruit juice, so if I feel like splurging, there is always a place for that. She also knows when I am baking as its her banca I go to when I need flour and sugar. She especially appreciates when I bring her a cookie the next day.
Another frequent stop I make is at my modista's banca. My modista (dress-maker), Irene, has a hard time keeping to a schedule. If she tells you your dress will be finished by Tuesday, you might get it Thursday or Friday or maybe the following Wednesday. Despite her difficulty sticking to a schedule, she does a very good job, and only laughs a little bit when I ask her to make my hems shorter and to take the ruffles and the sleeves off my sun dress. She works with two other younger women who always have questions about American culture and always promise to make me a very nice dress for when I go home.
The next part of the market could be overwhelming for you if its your first time in a Mozambican market. Stall after stall of similar products at similar prices make it hard to chose which cute little lady you will patronize that day. If someone has given me a good deal once, they become my go-to. I also reward creativity, so if someone reasons with me why I want to buy cabbage instead of green beans or explains that September is the best month to make collard greens, I will probably be convinced. I am also a very loyal customer, and the market ladies know that, so they have begun to try to get my attention when I head straight for my favorite place for lemons. That said, I have had to spread my loyalty around. I now have one lady whose tomatoes I like, another who has good sized garlic, one who I buy eggplant from, etc. The other ladies in the market have started to get a little jealous. When I walk past their stalls they ask why I don't want onions and I just smile. Customer service is everything in the market.
I once asked one of my market friends why they don't go sell their products elsewhere. Certainly, finding a street corner that wasn't full of ladies who were also selling bananas, beans, dried fish, and lettuce would make selling your product easier. The lady responded quite simply, “but my friends are here.”
Much about having a business in Mozambique is about having something to do during the day. Most Mozambicans are subsistence farmers. They often do not have jobs outside of the home, and having a job that gets you to the market everyday is exciting. Its fun to know all the other ladies and no one is really competitive. Prices are the same at every stall and if you don't like the mushy tomatoes from your favorite lady, she will point you to her friend who has less ripe ones.
Last week I organized a financial management and business skills seminar for a few of the church leaders Mozaic works with. We were discussing different business opportunities and, more often than not, people reverted back to businesses with which they were already familiar. I discussed with them about how selling chickens is not a good idea if there are already five other people in the market selling chickens and I was greeted with blank stares.
The non-competitive nature of Mozambicans made businesses training a challenge. We discussed the importance of not giving big discounts or free products to your friends and family and overall the group agreed that it would be impossible to avoid. We discussed having a service that was better than the others available in the community and everyone agreed that it would be better to work with others with that same service and talk about improving their overall efficiency as a co-op.
At the end of the training, I think the group did go home with an idea of the importance of competition and critical thinking about the viability of a given product or service.
But when it comes to them deciding what kind of businesses they want to open, I bet the majority still chose selling tomatoes. And I cant blame them, the tomato ladies are so much fun.
Monday, October 24, 2011
malaria.
If you are an American living in a Malaria zone, you will probably get Malaria.
And it is not going to be fun.
The biology of it is unfortunate. As Americans, we have not been bitten by those little blood-suckers, the anopheles mosquitoes. Therefore, we do not have the anti-bodies to fight the virus that we might have had we been co-existing with the anopheles our whole lives. Even on prophylaxis, you have a chance of getting it, though it will be a much less severe case than the many who chose not to use prophylaxis.
Now do not be mistaken, people in Malaria zones are not at all immune. Mozambicans get Malaria every year. But when a Mozambican comes down with Malaria, they show up to work and complain about having a bit of a fever, they might even stay home a day. It gets to the point where people can self diagnose, and the pharmacy does not question it when people come in asking for the treatment. I would equate it with people in the US who get bad colds they know as the flu.
Which is what you might think you have at first. Malaria first starts just like the flu.
I convinced myself I had the flu, because it seemed much more manageable than Malaria. But after a day of trying to convince myself (which was tough, I have not had the flu since sophomore year of college and I got the flu shot for the first time in my life this year, me getting the flu this year is highly unlikely), it was clear I did not have the flu.
I took the at home Malaria test. The little test was a pain to take, I was shaking from my fever and could not get my finger steady to get the drop of blood needed to activate the test. Eventually I did, and I sat there above the test like Juno over her pregnancy test. When it came back positive, I was at first in disbelief, but then I looked at the mosquito bites dotting my ankles and called Peace Corps.
The Peace Corps doctor wanted me to get a blood smear at the local hospital to find out my virus count. I asked Gerhard for a ride, since I was clearly unable to walk the 10 minutes to the hospital. He drove me, and I called my doctor friend at the hospital, who told me to come right into his office rather than waiting in the three hour line with everyone else with Malaria. I felt a bit guilty, I should probably wait like all the other sick people, but there are benefits to being friends with those who work at the hospital.
After the test, the doctor was writing me a prescription for Coartem, standard treatment for Malaria in Mozambique, and I asked him if he had ever had Malaria. He just laughed and said of course.
When I explained it was my “first time” he was stunned. I explained there is no Malaria in the US and he said that that must be nice. I thought to myself that yes, it is quite nice.
And it is not going to be fun.
The biology of it is unfortunate. As Americans, we have not been bitten by those little blood-suckers, the anopheles mosquitoes. Therefore, we do not have the anti-bodies to fight the virus that we might have had we been co-existing with the anopheles our whole lives. Even on prophylaxis, you have a chance of getting it, though it will be a much less severe case than the many who chose not to use prophylaxis.
Now do not be mistaken, people in Malaria zones are not at all immune. Mozambicans get Malaria every year. But when a Mozambican comes down with Malaria, they show up to work and complain about having a bit of a fever, they might even stay home a day. It gets to the point where people can self diagnose, and the pharmacy does not question it when people come in asking for the treatment. I would equate it with people in the US who get bad colds they know as the flu.
Which is what you might think you have at first. Malaria first starts just like the flu.
I convinced myself I had the flu, because it seemed much more manageable than Malaria. But after a day of trying to convince myself (which was tough, I have not had the flu since sophomore year of college and I got the flu shot for the first time in my life this year, me getting the flu this year is highly unlikely), it was clear I did not have the flu.
I took the at home Malaria test. The little test was a pain to take, I was shaking from my fever and could not get my finger steady to get the drop of blood needed to activate the test. Eventually I did, and I sat there above the test like Juno over her pregnancy test. When it came back positive, I was at first in disbelief, but then I looked at the mosquito bites dotting my ankles and called Peace Corps.
The Peace Corps doctor wanted me to get a blood smear at the local hospital to find out my virus count. I asked Gerhard for a ride, since I was clearly unable to walk the 10 minutes to the hospital. He drove me, and I called my doctor friend at the hospital, who told me to come right into his office rather than waiting in the three hour line with everyone else with Malaria. I felt a bit guilty, I should probably wait like all the other sick people, but there are benefits to being friends with those who work at the hospital.
After the test, the doctor was writing me a prescription for Coartem, standard treatment for Malaria in Mozambique, and I asked him if he had ever had Malaria. He just laughed and said of course.
When I explained it was my “first time” he was stunned. I explained there is no Malaria in the US and he said that that must be nice. I thought to myself that yes, it is quite nice.
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