Thursday, October 28, 2010

GRAND BAY - GOOD OL'TIMES

Years back, I remember, going to Grand Bay was a feat on its own.  A couple of friends would take our bicycles at 5 o'clock in the morning and ride up to that seaside village.  Cool breeze, more salty as we approach the coastline, and not a single vehicule on the road.  Peace and traquility...Mauritius!

From a pretty ordinary village Grand Bay transformed itself into one the world's most renowned tourist resort.  It's a place I would avoid at any cost today.  No, tourists are not to be blamed – they have all my blessings.  I’m referring to those human sharks that wait every single opportunity to rip the tourists.  And I’m not simply referring to local traders, here I’m referring to those unscrupulous businesses run by foreigners.

When the government launched its strategy to attract foreign capital and expertise, it opened the doors wider than expected.  It was like getting a huge aspirator and sucking up all came near.   Anyone would get a residence permit as long as he could present a financial forecast showing Rs3 million as annual turnover.  We all know what financial forecasts mean and we can all imagine that all financial forecast did effectively show astronomical figures.  So everyone got in, from the top golden boy to the more-shark-than-human crook.  They invaded the space, brought a new mind-set to business: All-in, rip’em off and get rich!  With their Dollars and Euros, they easily got themselves a place under the sun… and started hitting hard on local businesses, mostly small enterprises. 

Naturally, when you have Dollars and Euros you will aim at earning more of them.  Rupees are not that attractive.  So what you aim at?  Tourists!  Where do you go?  Grand Bay!  So what happened there was to be expected.  All the discothèques, bars and decent restaurants are owned by foreigners.   Good, because these guys know exactly what foreigners want and how they want it.  The problem is not there, it’s lying somewhere else.  Read on.

When the local businesses started enhancing their quality, adjusting their guns on the same heights, they positioned themselves as serious competitors to the foreign-owned commerce.  Somewhere someone thought that Mauritians would never fight back, and that someone (in fact more than someone) has a clear deficiency of grey-matter in the brain.  The whole thing turned out to be an aggressive-pseudo-commercial riot.  On one side, locals trying to get back to their good old days and on the other, foreigners all claws out trying to protect their share.  In a logical commercial context, fierce competition would mean better bargains for consumers.   In every sense, this was not going to be a ‘logical commercial context’ – consumers are the last thing that both sides worry about.  They’re more into an egocentric fight for honor.

So Grand Bay is now infested with a new genetically modified personal protection police.  Oh, let me put it in simple English: bouncers grouped into different gangs, officially auto-proclaimed ‘Private bodyguards’.  They are hired by every discothèques, bars, restaurants and individuals.  The problem is that this disease is now spread to every business: tour operators, pleasure craft operators (boats, catamarans), garments & accessories, retails… everyone in Grand Bay knows a bouncer.   If you don’t have a private bodyguard agreement, then you simply don’t exist as businessman in Grand Bay.  I’ll admit that bouncers are essential in bars and discothèque, but here it goes beyond their classic role.  Your bouncers are pitbulls that live on money.  You pay, they do.  The equation is simple, who pays more?  US$1 = Rs30,  EUR 1 = Rs40. Guess who wins, the Rupee or foreign currencies, the Mauritian or the Foreigner?

Anyway, you might take me for an alarmist or drama-regalia lover.  But I can’t help thinking back to Grand Bay 5 o’clock in the morning, cool and salty breeze running through my hair.   Good ol’times.