esquemas piramidales

We received the most interesting visit yesterday in the Nu’Kem office from three traveling representatives from the lofty sounding “Asociación Entidades de Desarrollo Humanitario” (translated as something like, “Association Entities of Humanitarian Development” or “Important Association of Humanitarian Development”). After laying out all the barriers to economic advancement for poor rural Guatemalans, they presented the perfect solution:

For a mere 120 Quetzales ($16) to be deposited into their bank account we could each become a “Promotor de Desarrollo Económico” (Promoter of Economic Development). Our role as promoters would be to sign up 10 more promoters within 15 days who would all also pay the Q120 inscription fee. Our 10 “direct clients” would then each have 15 days to sign up 10 more inscription paying clients of their own. And after just 30 days and minimal effort (I am sure the requisite of setting up an email account for each of my “clients” who probably have little to no experience with the internet won’t be as hard as it initially seems, especially given that the representative told us that, “Niños de uno y dos años ahorita están usando el internet antes que pueden leer y escribir,”…hmm, if they can’t read, I wonder what they are doing on the internet) each promoter with their own network of 110 direct and indirect clients will receive a check for Q5,000. At the end of the next month, just by having all 110 people in the network follow the important instructions to be sent out through email each promoter will net an additional Q24,000. After the third month the quantity earned jumps to Q240,000. That simple! Also just for the initial inscription fee we will receive instructional CDs and books including “¿Quien Se Ha Llevado Mi Queso?” At the mere mention of a free copy of “Who Moved My Cheese,” I was sold.

Perhaps I have integrated into the Guatemalan culture more than I thought, because instead of telling these men that they were a bunch of manipulative lying con artists, I bit my tongue and politely listened to the totality of their grand money making scheme. After holding back laughter produced by comments involving 2-year-olds surfing the internet and other ridiculous statements, I eventually asked, “¿Como se llaman estos tipos de negocios [I employed air quotes at this point] en español? En inglés se llaman ‘pyramid schemes.’” Unfortunately, my jab was lost without translation.

From my general countenance during the meeting, the members of the Nu’Kem board realized that this wasn’t a sound investment opportunity. After the men left, I explained to the women that although the plan sounded like a wonderfully easy way to make a lot of money, it was simply a trick and that they should warn the members of their communities. While I initially found the encounter humorous in its complete absurdity, walking home after work, I became very angry. As a Peace Corps volunteer you become part of a community, and these fast-talking cons from the capital are staying in my community with the sole purpose of swindling poor uneducated people out of their money. I have a meeting with the mayor tomorrow morning to formulate a plan to warn the public of the scam. I know I will never fully belong in Tactic, but this is my community and the people here are my friends, and I will do all that I can (however little it really is) to keep them from being cheated.