I'm reading something from a psychiatrist, a world traveler. British. He's no youngster. He worked many years ago in the old Rhodesia, today's Zimbabwe.
I'm sure what he was describing and characterizing in one chapter of the book would be seen by most of us here in MFO in the same light: call it
corruption. After the transition to the renamed state of Zimbabwe, there was government corruption all around. Corruption by elected officials, appointed officials, corruption down to individual policemen.
Maybe some of us have been to places that are like that. I have: The Philippines.
But WAIT! The author described a scenario: suppose a government-employed doctor, like the doctors he worked with before the change, managed to get set-up and take up residence in a now-vacant place that was rather fancy and spacious, and with a piece of land surrounding it. Well-to-do whites formerly lived in those villas. But even a doctor who is a civil servant--- the new owner, that is--- does not himself manage to enjoy all the comfort and spaciousness of the place.
Why? Because now he is doing well, and in that culture, everyone exists in the midst of at least a few different overlapping networks of people, by which they all are expected to help each other out. Extended family first, of course. So, the relatives out in the hustings come and move into the villa. Some with dubious housecleaning and homemaking skills. Over time, plaster peels. Little chunks of the walls start to fall on the floor. Painting goes undone. There is goat shit on the flagstones on the patio. And the goats have destroyed the lawn.
And I imagine the scene, and shake my head at what's been done to a lovely property. Shame, shame. But you see, that government employee is the family's gravy train. Not only due to his/her pretty good salary, but because that gov't employee is now in a position to "make the most of it." Whatever s/he can get away with--- what we think of as corruption--- is simply
de rigueur, the way things are done. That way, the employee can add to the betterment of the whole clan, even if
my own ethical lenses cannot abide such a state of affairs. ...The bottom line, and the starting point for such unethical practices is the rampant
poverty in that country. So, when any member of the clan gets lucky, gets promoted or gets elected, s/he bears the expected burden, to help provide for the others who are kin. But those who have official business with that person will have to do a little "favor" for him, in order to get anything done. A required signature on a document, or a building permit, or what have you.
In the Philippines, if you're stopped by a cop for speeding, you can avoid the ticket and the fine by giving the cop a few pesos. That is no shit. Also, I know someone who passed their new driver's test. OK, they were told. You'll get your driver's license in 90 days. NINETY DAYS!? Here's a little gift for you. ...Thanks, you'll have your license in 72 hours, then.
The tight family connections in the description above is a thing we no longer hold to here, and in many "advanced" countries. I have to admire that. The rest of the story I'm much less understanding about. Government subsidies for the poor in the US differ from State to State, but nobody is living in the deep poverty like people do in so many other places. If gummint is supposed to serve the people, including making life at least bearable for those without much money--- then Zimbabwe is surely a failed State, already. But the slow, predictable deterioration of that villa makes me smart. But WHY is Zimbabwe the way it is? Because family is where their allegiance lies, not patriotism and loyalty to the nation-state. Culture trumps the politics.
I dunno how to fix such a huge mess and contradictory claims on one's loyalty
and resources. But I know how I'd feel about having even a small bribe expected of me, in order to get any little required thing accomplished: RESENTFUL and ANGRY. Any of you have any reactions to this?
https://www.amazon.com/Life-Bottom-Worldview-Makes-Underclass/dp/1566635055 
Comments
Crash's description of the larger Philippine cities is accurate. It was said that you could have someone murdered for the cost of a bottle of decent liquor, and from personal experience I can verify that if something wasn't locked, guarded, or bolted down it would turn up missing in very short order. Bribes and payoffs were totally common... everyone understood that. It was, in fact, "the system". It was "civilization".
Tarumpitao Point. A small, very isolated point of land, on the South China Sea. Total jungle, other than the small area occupied by our station. No roads or highways. No electricity or services. Absolutely pristine, unspoiled, and beautiful... except for the carcasses of some WW2 equipment slowly rotting and rusting away- a few armored vehicles in the jungle, and the ribs of one small ship just off of the reefs.
But we, the 13 or 14 of us at the station, were hardly alone. Not too far away was a small village of, I guess, maybe fifty or sixty" natives", as we called them. For the most part they spoke no English, but the chief and a few others did pretty well. Other than our station, very few of the villagers had ever seen people other than themselves.
Well, 14 of us. Sixty or so of them. Prudence, based on our knowledge of the civilization at Manila and Subic Bay demanded high alert at all times, substantial walls, and continuous armed sentry, right?
Not in the slightest. No walls. No guns. No sentry. Doors not even locked at night.
They needed help? They came over to us and asked. We needed help? No problem- we just asked them. First thing every morning: sick call. Anyone from the station needing medical attention was there. Anyone from the village, same. Once one of their large water buffaloes was mired in jungle mud and couldn't get free. Took five or six guys from the village and the winch on our large Dodge 3/4 ton Power Wagon to get that huge buffalo out of the mud.
We had a good supply of tools- shovels, rakes, that sort of thing. Every spring the head man come over and borrowed all of our stuff for their rice planting. We made a list, he initialed, it, and we stuck it on a nail in the tool shed until they brought the stuff back.
Our station received supplies via a CG seaplane every two weeks. Some of our stations did in fact need the plane to land on the water, but our station had a long grass airstrip cut into the jungle just behind the reef. You came in very low over the reef and flew directly into a long narrow shoebox cut out of the jungle and open on the seaward end. The "airstrip" was jungle grass, usually kept cut by the Power Wagon and our two small tractors.
Once, our Power Wagon and both tractors were all out of service. Repair parts were coming in by the supply plane. But with no way to cut the grass, no way for the plane to land. Over from the village comes twenty or so guys with those big machetes. They form a line and walk from one end of the strip to the other. Two hours later the plane lands.
This story has no place in this forum. Totally outside of financial matters.
It is, though, highly relevant to some of the things currently going on in the world today. It shows us how different peoples can live in harmony, even though the cultures are very dissimilar. It is, in fact, one of the most important lessons that I learned in my entire life. People, all people, are basically good and decent. It takes the politics and various evils of "civilization" to really screw things up.