Lines and Queues

Gina's Post

We'll hopefully have more village posts and pictures of our recent trips up soon, but while it's still fresh in my mind, I want to recount a funny story I had today about the bank line in Solwezi.

So it's a Saturday morning at the end of the month, which is the absolute WORST time to use an ATM in Solwezi.  This town has literally grown more than 10 times in the last few years due to the nearby mining boom, yet just has one little supermarket and a few banks.  It doesn't help that all the mines pay their workers the last Saturday of the month so the town is a literal zoo.  I would usually rather eat nshima with raw caterpillars than try to finagle my way through the "lines" and crowds on the last Saturday of the month, but we are due back in our village tomorrow, and Mwinilunga only has 1 ATM that charges ridiculous surcharges, is out of power half the time and literally eats peoples' cards the other half of the time.

I took a nice little morning jog and came across two lines of about 40 people each for the ATM's.  I saw a girl get out of a car and casually pretend she was talking on her cell phone, nonchalantly slipping into the middle of the line (which looked more like a mob of people) hoping no one would see her.  I was in the other line so didn't say anything, but got into a conversation with the guy in front of me that we needed to be careful and keep our eyes peeled for people cutting the line, or "jumping the queue" as they put it.  He agreed that he would help.

The next thing I knew, I saw a guy playing the same cell phone trick, and called him out.  His "friend" said, "but he just had to get out of line to take a call and now he's getting back in the queue" but I didn't believe it.  Luckily that caught the security guard's attention, and even though he was too timid to make the line jumper go to the back, he made an announcement that all people arriving needed to go to the back of the queue.  I called a few people out again, although some still refused to go to the back.  One cut about 5 people in front of me, and I said "how would you feel if I just stepped in front of you like this?"  He said, "bad."  And I said, "yes, that's how all the people who have been waiting feel when someone goes in front."  It got to the last straw when the guy directly in front of me invited one of his "friends" right in front with the old cell phone trick.  By then I had been in line for more than 30 minutes, but luckily I had nowhere to be because I was waiting for a friend. 

The crowd knew I was the rebel rouser and started laughing when anyone tried to cut, which did effectively send that person to the back of the line.  They knew I was policing the line and would make a big stink at anyone who tried to cut.  They asked me about bank lines in America and started teaching me Bemba, since most were from Lusaka or other parts of Zambia claiming their fortunes through the mines and didn't know any Lunda.  To no one in particular, I said, "people say your country is corrupt.  Maybe if you called people out when they did something wrong, they wouldn't try to do bad things.  But when people just stand and watch when people do bad things, they will keep doing them."  Most of the spectators just laughed, but I think (or at least hope) it made a few stop and think about their actions.  I know it did, because I overheard someone say "everyone's time is valuable.  One person cannot just think their own time is more valuable than others."  Sure enough, the line moved like clockwork from that point on.

My friend Evon arrived just as I was 2nd from the front of the line and was so appalled by so many people at an ATM she stopped to take a picture.  Once I gathered my cash, I said, "If I hadn't been policing that line for the past 45 minutes, I'd be waiting here another hour."  As we left, the people in line just laughed again in good humor, and we said goodbye to each other in English, Bemba and Lunda.  Talk about a cultural exchange!