“The
typical tobacco farming family (husband and wife with two kids) has a
half-hectare of land. They produce 800 kilos a year which they are
able to sell, through the government, for an average of 3 euro per
kilo. That translates to a little over $3000 in annual income,
netting each family member just over $2 a day; but they are also
subsistence farmers, growing vegetables and livestock for their
kitchen.” [Wikipedia: The World
Bank defines extreme
poverty as living on less than US$1.25 (PPP)
per day, and moderate poverty as less than $2 or $5
a day. But note that a person or family with access to subsistence
resources, e.g. subsistence
farmers, may have a low cash income without a correspondingly low
standard of living – they are not living "on" their cash
income but using it as a top up.]
Driving
around the Balkans recently, I again noted the wide expanse of
farmland which has always intrigued me, beyond Greece and into
Bulgaria. The area was known as “no-man’s land” during the Cold
War which literally meant “you will be shot," if you set foot.
The region is also known for grapes and tobacco. And today they have
a popular wine: “No Man's Land” – and in the back label they
explain its origin. But apparently we were in tobacco land; and just
outside one restaurant, there were people (farmers, we would learn)
indulging in 'rakia' while kids were romping around the solitary
fountain in the village square. [Wikipedia: Rakia – it is a popular
beverage throughout the Balkans;
its alcohol content is normally 40% ABV,
but home-produced rakia can be stronger, typically 50% to 60%.]
As
we approached the restaurant we greeted the folks in their language
and straightaway they invited us to join them. I could throw around a
dozen words in their language and that was enough to be the center of
attention. And in no time there was a young American Peace Corps
volunteer who arrived. [In a small village of 3000 the presence of
new comers spreads like wildfire which would explain how the young
American heard about our group and came over.] He hails from Ohio and
was completing his two-year assignment and was looking forward to get
to Washington State to pursue his graduate degree. He spoke the
language fluently: “Four months of intense language training,
five hours a day.”
When
the American was describing how a typical farmer’s home looks like,
I realized these farmers did not exactly have a low standard of
living, recalling how the World Bank defines poverty. “The
typical kitchen is no different from what we have in the US. They are
prudent so they make their own bread but using a modern-day
bread-maker. They have microwave ovens; they have running hot and
cold water, washing machines and even western-style bathrooms. They
make their own ‘rakia,’ yogurt and strawberry juice. They make
heavy breakfasts from corn, understandably because of the long hours
they spend in the farm. And from experience, they can tell when rain
is coming.”
They
have no expectations from government. These are generational farmers
and whether it was the Ottoman or Communist rule or their current
democratic system, life to them is the same. And like everywhere
else, some kids would decide to pursue higher education or migrate to
the West. But it still is a small village. And so everyone would know
where all the kids have gone: those who earned graduate degrees or
worked for MNCs, etc. I did not hear about religion although the
couple of villages we saw had mosques. “They date back to the
Ottoman rule, but religion is not top of mind.” And since it
was springtime, the days were longer and as we walked around the
village everyone was waving and making us feel welcomed.
There
were a couple of schools and the paved roads were limited to the area
around the center. And beyond were dirt roads. (They would remind me
of the days when my neighborhood in Manila was largely “looban”
before the roads were laid out.) Do they need government? Admittedly,
this is an old country and 20 kilometers from the village is a town
that seemed to have everything, including chic boutique shops for
women – Europeans would be Europeans! But in fact they forced the
government to resign and call an election following protests against
corruption. Is there an assurance that they would get a better one?
No. But these people have demonstrated resolve – with seven of them
committing self-immolation. They’re a tough bunch! They don’t
take things sitting down! I would tell them about Rizal, who didn't
take things sitting down too!
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