Money or Learning the Art of Patience

I know I've alluded to certain facets of the role money plays in Beninese society, but I want to shed some more comprehensive light on how African values manifest themselves in everyday transactions.

The currency used here is called the CFA, used in 14 french speaking African nations. It comes in many denominations, but the ones most commonly used are 25, 50, 100, 200, 500, 1000, and sometimes 2000. The CFA also comes in 5000 and 10000 bills, but these are relatively useless, especially in small villages, since no one claims to be able to give you change for them. A loaf of standard baguette-like bread costs 125 francs; a typical lunch of rice, beans, and cheese or meat costs you around 250; and a large soda will cost you 400-450 francs. It's pegged to the Euro, and has been appreciating recently, giving us a much worse exchange rate (presently about 467 CFA to the dollar).

A typical villager here spends their days dispensing and collecting small denominations of CFA, probably hundreds of times a day. 25, 50, and 100 CFA pieces are subjected to countless transactions between vendors on the sides of the road. Take, for example, a typical trip to my little market last year in Kemon.

Me (after salutations): I'd like to purchase that garlic.

Lady: Small or large bag?

Me: Small please. How much is it?

Lady: 25 francs.

In village, this wouldn't require bartering. Normally a small tit-for-tat would ensue, especially on larger items.

Me: 25 francs. I only have a two thousand CFA bill. Do you have change?

Lady: No change.

Me: So what are we going to do?

At this point, after putting on a show of disapproval, the women will either reach into her pocket to pull out small change or hand the bill to a kid, who will run to another stall to get the change. Very rarely will there actually be no change.

Lady: Here you go.

Me: Can I have this in a plastic bag?

At this point, either she would produce a black plastic bag or send a child to another stall to buy plastic bags.

You can also go to stalls, ask for an item and then wait while they go to another stall to buy the item and resell it to you. If you're friends with the lady, usually called a tanti or maman, they'll sell it to you for little or no profit. Honestly, they treat you well here, but it sometimes gets frustrating having to barter, act annoyed, make demands, etc. when all you're trying to do is give them money. Rarely does an attempted transaction end in failure, but it sometimes seems like they don't actually want to make money if it's going to be a minor inconvenience. This is especially puzzling to a born-and-bred capitalist.

Money that is ripped or worn is usually refused. The only way to get rid of this kind of money is to give it to beggars or unsuspecting volunteers. Worn money can usually be transfered at a bank, but you have to wait in such a long line that it is rarely worth it.

Try to go to a zemidjan (one of the seemingly endless supply of motorcycle taxis used in Benin) and demand a price that would be reasonable for a Beninese to pay. Most of the time, the bartering will start at an outrageous price, at which point you balk, feign incredulity and give him an equally outrageous price. This will go on until you see a slight tilt of the head indicating that you've agreed on a price. Down here in Cotonou, many of the zems will just drive off after you give them the original price. They'd rather leave and maintain their pride than accept a reasonable price from someone who has so much money. Yeah, it does make one reflect a bit, but it's a difficult concept to understand for a Westerner here.

Money amongst friends is an entirely different story, and I'm not going to touch on that here. Next time, maybe. Next time.