HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 1995-03-08, Page 5International Scene
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THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, MARCH 8, 1995. PAGE 5.
People would trade
places with Canucks
Patriotism: the last refuge of the scoundrel.
H. L. Mencken
When it comes to flag-waving I'm with the
old curmudgeon of Baltimore. One of the
things I always loved about this country is
that we don't take ourselves over-seriously.
Not for Canucks the my-country-right-or-
wrong mentality of our neighbours to the
south. Let the Yanks stamp their licence
plates "Live Free or Die", swathe their
mailboxes in bunting and send their kids to
jail for wearing Stars and Stripes patches on
their bums.
Canadians suffer from a number of
afflictions, but mindless Jingoism is not
among them.
We're a peaceable lot. Someone once
defined Canadians as people who, if you
step on their toes, they say they're sorry.
All the same, there comes a point in the
affairs of men beyond which even self-
effacing Canadians should not trespass.
I think it's time we stopped punching
ourselves in the nose.
It's an easy enough game to play — Canada
bashing. Our dollar flutters spasmodically at
the 60-cent U.S. level. Mostly because it
suits international money markets to treat
our dollar as a financial basket case.
Corruption big
business in Zaire
I once wrote an article about corruption in
Nigeria, an article that the Nigerian high
commissioner in Ottawa took an instant
dislike to. Any newspaper that published the
article, and there were a few, received a
strongly worded letter from him, claiming
that my facts were wrong, my opinions
distorted that I was guilty, among other
things, of distracting tourists from his
country.
I suggested that he might like to revise this
opinion since I had received the details from
none other than the central bank of Nigeria. I
was, I added, not aware that any Canadians
considered for one moment going to Nigeria
on a holiday.
It has come as something of a perverse
delight to me to watch, as I did recently, an
expose by the respected CBC news program,
The Fifth Estate, outlining the rampant
corruption in Nigeria which, unfortunately,
has involved a number of innocent
Canadians.
However, just to show that the Nigerians
are not the only ones who can excel at the art
of corruption, I would like to move down the
African coast a bit to the country of Zaire,
that part of the continent which used to be
known as the Belgian Congo and whose
current leader would rank with the biggest
offenders when it comes to categorizing
corruption.
The leader, President (for life?) Mobuto
Sese Seko, could write a multi-volumed text
book on the art of corruption, graft and any
other similar activity. It can be safely said
that he has set the tone for the entire country
since one economist, more conversant with
Canadians play right along with the farce.
We even call our dollar 'the loonie'.
When Canada gets a national TV variety
show, our critics join hands in an orgy of
crucifixion of the host — Ralph Ben Murgui.
From coast to coast to coast he is sniggered
at and sneered over as hapless and hopeless.
And why?
Mostly because he's not David Letterman.
And Quebec? Ah, Quebec. The
Separatistes of Quebec decide that they're
altogether too classy for this Vaudeville Act
called Canada — they're striking out on their
own.
Corporate America has given up on us as
well. That bible of capitalism, The Wall
Street Journals recently pronounced Canada
'an honorary Third World nation' based on
our national debt.
The irony was The Wall Street Journal
cribbed their arguments from an editorial in
Canada's own Globe and Mail — whereupon
the Globe cited The Wall Street Journal's
assessment as proof that the original Globe
editorial was right.
How perfectly Canadian.
Yep. Must be the end of the line for this
sad sack of a nation called Canada.
Unless you solicit some other opinions.
Never mind what The Wall Street Journal
and the Globe and Mail and Jacques
Parizeau and Lucien Bouchard and
sleazebag turncoats like Marcel Masse say
about Canada.
What does the rest of the world think?
the situation I, claims that corruption is the
oil in the machinery of the country. It could,
he said, be considered as a type of informal
sales tax.
Almost any transaction needs something
in Zaire to help it along and there is almost
always someone to do just that. This
someone is called a "protocole" which can
be translated as a "professional payer of
brides."
This protocole surfaces almost by magic
when there is any official procedure taking
place. He has, he claims, any number of
excellent contacts which are acquainted with
the procedure and who will keep the bribes
which have to be paid to a minimum.
Naturally there is a little "bribe" for all the
work which he has to do.
But the protocole does not get all the
business. Corruption, as you must now
realize, is such a way of life that there are
little bribes to be paid which are below the
dignity, as it were, of any self-respecting
protocole.
The taxi drivers have to pay a certain
sweetener to the traffic police in their area or
else run the risk of being hauled off for some
imaginary offence. Fishermen on any river
that forms a border between Zaire and
another country help their precarious living
by smuggling things across the river.
Naturally there are soldiers watching all this
activity and just as naturally there is a small
consideration to be paid by the fishermen to
these soldiers.
With annual inflation currently running
about 8,500 per cent, it is not hard go guess
what is going on in the currency markets.
When Mobuto and his government need
extra money, they just print it and the above
mentioned figure is, therefore, easy to
understand. It does however, create a
powerful black market in foreign currencies
with the two most desired currencies being
Well, a recent survey by a Swiss company
ranking the world's best cities to live in is
instructive.
Three of Canada's cities — Vancouver,
Toronto, Montreal - placed in the top ten.
We had four in the top 12.
No other country came close. The nearest
an American city could get was 30th.
The United Nations regularly publishes
surveys about quality of urban life on this
battered planet, and regularly Canadian life
places either first or second on the Most
Desirable Place to Pitch A Tent sweepstakes.
The United States isn't even on the chart.
Life is far from perfect in the Great White
North. It's less glittery than Hollywood, less
exciting than New York, less ritzy than Las
Vegas or Rodeo Drive.
But you see fewer people sleeping on
steam grates, not as many recovering from
gunshot wounds, hardly any crack houses
and not a single chapter of the Ku Klux
Klan.
We love to bitch, we Canucks. We bitch
about the weather and the taxes and the cost
of living.
But if we stopped whining long enough to
hear the voices of the rest of the world, we'd
discover that most human beings, given their
druthers, would love to trade places with us.
Not a bad thing to remember, as we lurch
towards yet another showdown in the
national divorce court.
Especially good to remember if your name
happens to be Parizeau or Bouchard.
either the American dollar or the Belgian
franc, the latter due to the fact that Zaire was
once a Belgian colony.
If one gets tired of trying to make a living
on the black market in currency, one can
always get into diamond smuggling. Zaire is,
it should be pointed out, very rich in natural
resources, including diamonds and there is a
real trade in this commodity along the border
with Angola.
What all this has done is ruin the middle
classes. A good education currently stands
for nothing; all a college graduate can hope
for is to become involved in one of the
above mentioned activities and hope that
some profit can be made. Meanwhile
Mobuto and his hangers-on continue to live
high off the hog. But for how long? So far
there is no light at the end of the tunnel but
in such circumstances what goes around has
a habit of coming around.
The
Short
of it
By Bonnie Gropp
Go ahead and
kiss a few frogs
You have to kiss a few frogs before you
find a prince.
At least that's what they, those experts on
everything, have to say about the chances of
finding the ideal mate. Lately, however, they
seem to be saying, at least the feminine part
of the group is, that when it comes to guys
those perfect princes are greatly
outnumbered by the atrocious amphibians.
One thing I know for certain, is that I'm
glad I'm out of circulation. Listening to
young girls and single women, I am
discovering a certain disgruntlement over the
man/woman interaction thing. Today's men,
don't want commitment, the women say.
They are perpetual children dominated by
testosterone.
To be fair to the male contingent, today's
female seems to have a pretty tall order
when it comes to filling her date wish list.
It's not enough to find a man who's attractive
and fairly decent; the dreamboat of the 90s
must be a sensitive, yet masculine chap, a
knight in shining armor, who not only
dazzles with his manliness, but is in tune
with his feminine side.
And being as the bars seem to be the hot
spot for meeting people, I can certainly see
why the girls are having problems finding
this type of fella. This past weekend I
watched the movie It Could Happen to You,
about the chivalrous, endearing cop who
gave half his lottery winnings to a waitress
as a tip, and I'm pretty sure most girls
wonder where guys like him are. I'm also
pretty sure, he doesn't hang out in bars.
I think that most of the people who grew
up in my generation would agree that being
with someone, committing to them, didn't
seem so difficult back then. Because for one
reason, I don't think our expectations were as
high. Being myself no princess, I never
expected to find a prince. If I thought a guy
was cute, if he could make me laugh and at
least tried to understand me sometimes, I
was happy.
But, while courting gave us time to
discover the princely traits, dating in the 90s
can be a touch and go affair. According to a
Maclean's story the ritual of holding hands
on the first date, hugging on the second,
kissing on the third and French kissing on
the fourth, has been accelerated so that now
many of those steps are covered in one night.
Too bad. Prolonging the mystery could be a
heady experience.
Relationships are now embarked upon
cautiously. While teenage pregnancy was a
worry 30 years ago, it certainly never
threatened our existence. Today, falling in
lust can be deadly. There is no question that
AIDS has changed so much of dating's
spontaneity. People are afraid to date
someone they don't know; a first encounter
in the 90s resembles a job interview,
complete with personal references.
Then there are others shying away from
becoming involved because of uncertain
futures and financial struggles. Many quite
simply say they can't afford to date.
I am an idealist. I believe in, if not princes,
then at least, in their close relatives. I believe
in happily ever after and in love. But in an
era where emotions must be governed by
factors not of the heart, these things aren't
going to be easy to find. If kissing a few
frogs leads you to it, however, then it will
have been worth it.
Arthur Black
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