A "Crisis of Coins"

This place is the Wild Wild West.  Someone blatantly jumps in front of you in the grocery store queue.  A fist fight on the sidewalk.  Traffic jams at every major and non-major intersection between here and Texas.  Dishonest cabbies, apathetic customer service reps, irresponsible dog owners who refuse to pick up after their pets.  This is Buenos Aires.  It is beauty, love and madness.

Whenever we get together with Porteños, conversations inevitably wander towards politics, the state of the economy and the backwards workings of a once mighty place.  Similar to other young democracies in Asia and other parts of the developing world, Argentina finds itself in the throes of well-meaning leaders who just can’t help being a little more selfish than the next guy.  And being with an Argentinian means that I’m witness to the average Argie’s gripes and frustrations every single day.  Mostly, people find a way to laugh it off.  No sense in worrying about something that you can’t change (ha, the irony of democracy).

Inefficient government and government policies, combined with a resourceful pool of determined citizens yield a system and way of life just a little different from the western world.  Cash-only rental, real estate sales and restaurant transactions.   Bribery in business.  Dishonest and corrupt law enforcement officials.  A virtually zero credit economic system (homes, cars, and rents are all paid in cold hard USD cash).  And, fake money.

Now, friends who’ve visited Argentina in the past have groaned about being duped with fake money by taxi drivers.  Three months of living on and off in the country last year and not once did I come across fake bills.  But last week, as we hurried out of a cab to get to dinner, the cabbie slipped us a 50 peso fake and it was only after a few days that we’d realized we were scammed.  And though 50 pesos only translates to about 12 USD, I don’t like the feeling of being taken advantage of.  I was royally annoyed.

But you know what’s amazing?  Whereas I was annoyed about the situation, the Boy, as always, was cool, calm and collected.  He laughed it off and said that we’d just put the fake back into the system.  Simple.

Right. Of course.  Just put it right back into the system.  Why didn’t I think of that?

And the more time I spend here, the more amazed I am to see how nonchalantly the locals have found a way to cope with such backwardness.  The legal and illegal things have all found a way to weave themselves into the normal course of daily life here.

Last night during dinner, we talked about the “crisis of coins”.  The subway and bus systems here are relatively efficient ways of getting around, albeit not very efficiently managed.  Subway passes only work for subways and most buses only take cash (1 peso, to be exact).  This means that in a city of 9 million people, the majority of the population is ducking underground or hopping on a colectivo every single day, at least twice a day.  Imagine the demand for coins.  One peso coins, to be exact.  And imagine the opportunities if you’re the owner of a corner-street kiosk, selling small change items like candy, cigarettes and chewing gum.  There are crowds of people with two peso, five peso and 10 peso bills aching for change.  Perhaps that little pack of gum over there, instead of pricing it at 1 peso flat, you can price it at 1.25 or 1.50.  Wouldn’t you much rather change a 5 peso bill and earn a few cents more on the transaction?

Supposedly, the demand for coins once created a black market system where people would ask to change a 10 peso bill and be forced to accept 9 pesos in return, the kiosk owner pocketing 1 peso in ‘commission’ for the service.  Clever, no? =)

Coming from clean, boring Canada, the Wild Wild West ways of doing things here fascinate me.  The economic systems that evolve in places where governments are still struggling to rightfully fulfill their duties to the people are incredibly interesting.  It feels like every day yields a new surprise, a different perspective in ways of doing things.

This is what deep travel is all about: the process of peeking around the folds and understanding the quiet ways people cope with their laws and limitations, with all things good and bad about daily life in a big city.  This is a whole new education.

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