There are those days, when it just rains too hard and that slippery slope I’m trying to climb turns to mud. My heart sinks as I feel my feet slide.
Those are the days when everything becomes preposterous. How could one possibly sell books in Laos? It’s not just that most people don’t read, most have no business experience either, so how can this whole operation work?
Business is a complex social exchange right up there with language. It only makes sense when two parties are satisfied with an exchange. If the balance isn’t right, it’s called theft. Just as the financial books must be tended meticulously, a social balance is equally important. “I’ve done this for you. You’ve done this for me. I’m aware that I owe you. I’m aware that you’re aware that I owe you. I’m aware that you’re not aware that I feel you owe me.” It goes on and on. That’s why we use money and make contracts.
One common social agreement is that until you compensate me, what I consider is mine is mine and not yours. That’s where book selling in Laos gets tricky. I leave them on consignment with people. My assumption is that people understand it is not their property until they pay for it. That’s why it astounds me to find books crammed in a case, covered with dust and half eaten by termites. “I didn’t have time,” is a common response.
Money is a complex concept. It may be it in your hand, but that doesn’t mean it’s yours. Not all people think that way and that’s why it’s used sometimes to buy beer or pay off bills. What can I say? They treat me like a tax collector when I come around.
Business means risk and investment. Most people don’t understand. In a rare occasion, a small bookshop agreed to pay in cash for 120 books. The price was agreed on, but she balked when it came to paying. She wanted a discount. I said no. She got mean and said, “OK, forget it, I’ll just call up the company.” That was pretty funny. She thinks there’s a company somewhere. Certainly she’s going to have to pay more going through a middleman. I slam a pack of books back in my bag. We’re testing each other. Who’s going to blink first? I know I’m ready to walk out though I hate to think of towing 120 books on my bike again. I guess she does want the books. She throws the money over and acts like I’ve just abused her. Maybe that bridge is burned. Maybe I could have been nicer. After all, the customer is supposed to be god – supposed to be. I don’t think these petty bookshops realize I’ve taken more than 2,000 books to local schools. They’re arrogant and mean because they think they’re dealing in rare commodities. I’ve heard some people stash away whole inventories and wait until the value goes up. They think they’re doing business. I think that’s theft.
In a few rare places, I’m lucky to make contacts with the tops in schools or hotels. They can wave through decisions. They’re usually savvy and know what’s needed. The problem is that the stronger they are, the weaker the subordinates are. I couldn’t get through to a manager in the top hotel in Laos because the front desk was too scared to disturb him. They told me he was out and I knew it was a lie. I had to chase him in the lobby.
People don’t like to see others succeed. It sets a new standard. Most don’t want to take the effort to reach it. It’s not the rain that makes the mud.
