Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 9 degrees, colder, greyer, overcast, and with the possibility of rain.
It is early Saturday morning, not as early as if I were in Brazil, but still early; it is drizzly outside, with the rain stopping and starting all the time. I managed to do a quick half-hour workout on the back patio, combining skipping and elastic exercises.
It suddenly came to me to go to Stourbridge High Street, the main town of the region. My mother lives in Wordsley, a small village not far away. My brother and I grew up in Wollaston, a small village located within Stourbridge, one of the main towns in the region.
Besides Stourbridge, there is Dudley, another main town in the region, with a beautiful castle. However, for some reason, it is not as beautiful as Stourbridge, and in my childhood, I rarely visited there. My childhood was spent between Wollaston, where I lived, and school, Stourbridge, for friends and action, and Wordsley, because of my beautiful grandparents.
After exercising, taking a shower, and changing into fresh clothes, I was ready to go. I caught the bus and instead of getting off at the top of the High Street at the bus station, I got off at the bottom before the bus entered the enormous ring road that surrounds the whole town centre.
Working my way up the main High Street, I entered a boutique unisex clothing shop that specialises in high-quality second-hand clothes. The clothes are much more expensive than in charity second-hand shops because this shop is not a charity shop, but rather a boutique.
There are many charity shops on the High Street and in most towns in England, but this shop stands out because it is not a charity shop but an authentic boutique that carefully selects its clothes. They are very beautiful and of exceptionally good taste, and before selling them, they are treated and prepared.
After spending only a couple of minutes in the shop, I didn’t see anything exciting, so I left to walk further up the lower part of High Street. I passed in front of King Edward’s College, where I studied after attending school.
I also used to play the ‘Defender’ arcade video game in a shop exactly on the other side of the street facing the college. Once, the college director went to the shop looking for students who were playing video games during class time; luckily, I was not there at that moment.
The High Street is divided by a side street, which creates the lower and upper sections of the main High Street. The upper or central part of the High Street is much more commercial than the lower section. Halfway along the main High Street, there is an entrance to a partially covered pedestrian precinct market, resembling a gallery or mini shopping centre.
Before visiting the Rye market precinct, I wanted to stop by the Aldi supermarket to see what was on offer in their massive steel crates. It’s a bit of a lottery ticket feeling for me to go into Aldi, not knowing what surprise bargains I might find—bargains that, even if I didn’t need, would still be interesting to buy. Today, there wasn’t anything of genuine interest, so I continued to visit one or two other supermarkets spread around the town centre.
Just when I arrived in England, I bought a leather belt for only £5 before Christmas at a pound shop similar to the Chinese 1.99 Reais shops in Rio. This is another shop I wanted to visit, and again, what a surprise—it’s funny to say ‘what a surprise’ for something as simple as a lime squeezer. I love lime juice with water and sweetener, in tea, as a seasoning for food, or on a salad. This beautiful, well-made aluminium orange-painted lime squeezer, which I have needed for a long time, costs only £3.
It is beautifully engineered, packaged—truly a work of art.
I paid at the till and left, but this got me thinking. When I am in Brazil, the most likely place to buy a lime squeezer is usually at the local street fair. These are often made of badly forged aluminium, extremely rudimentary, simple, and rough, and typically last only a month or two, and are relatively expensive for what you’re getting. Compared to the one I just bought, it is significantly more expensive in Brazil than in England. In England, I bought something of beauty, well-made, and cheaper.
England is a free market economy, where you can purchase virtually anything from anywhere in the world at competitive prices. In Brazil, especially under this new government, this has been the case from the beginning, where a closed free trade market due to protectionism has led the population to be accustomed to low- or poor-quality Brazilian-made products with limited options and at a higher-than-normal market price.
It is also important to remember that this is not just for the domestic retail market, but for industry, agriculture, and everything else essential for running a country, its people, and its businesses.
- There are two lime squeezers; one is beautiful, well-made, and well-priced, coming from an open economy country.
- The other is not well-made, ugly, and expensive for what it is, and it comes from a country with a closed trade economy.
Which do you choose?
This is the lime squeezer metaphor!
I have concluded, along with Brazil’s leaders, that there is a deep-seated lack of willingness to resolve the country’s problems and issues, which is also marked by complete and utter incompetence.
Incompetence in the state sector is not exclusive to Brazil, but it has a significant market share. As Brazil is a developing country, its underdevelopment exacerbates the impact of this incompetence, making it more costly and harmful compared to a normal developed country.
For the rest of the day, I was overwhelmed with happiness from making such a good buy. Maybe I’m being naive, or a little silly, and is it wise to derive so much enjoyment from such a simple thing?
On my way home, I stopped by the local pub and had a glass of wine. When I got back, I had dinner and watched a film with my mother.
In bed by midnight.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
