Lead Us Not into THAT Much Temptation

I’ve always considered myself to be a law-abiding sort of person, and I’ve been extra careful to stay legit while a guest in somebody else’s country. But events of yesterday made this old dog contemplate the learning of new tricks. The matter in question involved currency exchange. I was seeking transportation from the airport into town, and I had only US dollars. Furthermore, printed governmental instructions informed me (1) that I was obligated to pay in local currency and (2) that unofficial dollar-exchange could land one in dire trouble. So I said to myself, “What the heck; I’ll take some losses, but I’ll hit the airport bank and buy enough $$Zim for taxi fare. However, the official exchange rate is, uh, even less favorable than one might expect, and I was told that a 15-minute taxi ride, with all exchanges official, would cost me about four thousand US dollars! So I fell into the temptation to avoid that kind of high finance and caught a ride with the brother of a bishop.
It seems that the taxi-fare-for-megabucks problem may be symptomatic of other economic ills. The artificially high value for the $Zim is associated with hyper-inflation and shortages of most things that a reasonable person would want to buy (though, as suggested in an earlier essay, the supply of lions and elephants appears sufficient to meet the demand of millionaire Americans). The driver who came from A.U. to pick me up was ecstatic about being in Harare because he assumed that, in the Capital City, he could partake in a big meal that included real beef. To slake the driver’s craving for dead cow, we visited three old-fashion Zimbabwe hamburger shops: two could offer only “chips” (French fries); the third had managed to acquire a few pieces of chicken, which we greedily consumed. The A.U. driver, with characteristic good humor, observed, “This is our beloved leader’s plan to assure that his people do not suffer from excessive cholesterol.” Of course the comment was offered with some irony, but I believe the words also included a note of affection.
Anyhow, for now beef is off the shelves of the grocery stores and butcher shops, nation-wide. I don’t care much about the red meat, but rice is awfully scarce, and I haven’t seen any peanut butter at all. Thanks to careful rationing, bread occasionally becomes available, but in little old Rusape-town hundreds of people were lined up in hopes that today would be a loaf-distribution day. (Very nice music was being played, and none of the babies looked super-hungry.) Cornmeal is said to be scarce as well, but I don’t know that for sure. Soap-powder seems to be non-existent, and I’m wondering how I’ll make 100 days on three undershirts (Army-brown, thank goodness). On the good side, there was little traffic on the Harare-Mutare road; could that be associated with the fact that we saw no gas for sale in any of the dozen or so stations that we passed?
Before I terminate this set of first-day observations, I do want to write two happy things—the first general and the second Ab-selfish. (1) Perhaps, for once, CNN and the BBC are not exaggerating the nation’s shortages, but I simply will not believe that this country is coming apart. Zimbabweans appear to be the same resilient, kind, generous, polite folks I’ve learned to love, and I’ve observed not one hint of collective despair (just Lord please don’t let us have a drought until other things get better). (2) There is a gecko (Hemidactylus) in my room, and I’ve already seen a purple-crested lourie.