changing ways

When I walk the three miles to church each Sunday morning, I stop at a little grocery to buy a bottle of mineral water.

Yesterday morning, I grabbed my water and took it to the checkout counter. A northern woman was already there, engaged in a very one-sided conversation.

She was also buying a bottle of water, which she held in one hand. In the other was a 500-peso note that she was fanning in frustration. I had seen this skit before. She was buying an 9-peso bottle of water (about $.45 (US)) and trying to pay for it with a note worth about $25 (US). That may work at a 7-11 in Ontario. Here, it is more than problematic.

I have known the clerk and her family for several years. Her boyfriend was a waiter at Papa Gallo's, and she would often accompany him along with her two children to restaurant events. We talk every Sunday morning at the store.

She was patiently telling the customer: "No tengo cambio." "I don't have change."

I have written about our odd currency issues before (hoping for change) -- an issue that seems to be universal in Mexico. ATMs issue 500-peso notes, but there are very few merchants who have sufficient change when customers present those notes in payment.

With a couple of exceptions. There is always PEMEX. Filling my gas tank costs almost 1,000 pesos. My bill at my favorite small grocery usually runs between 500 and 1500 pesos, depending on how many imported luxuries have caught my eye.

Other than that, the potential spots to drop a 500 are limited. Even most restaurants struggle with them.

When I explained this to the woman yesterday, she noticeably relaxed and thanked me because she was afraid the bill was being refused as counterfeit. She had just arrived from Ontario on a Saturday afternoon flight and was staying with friends for two weeks. This was her first outing on her own.

And then she asked the question we have all asked: "If the ATM gives 500-peso notes and no one can take them, what good are they?"

She summed up exactly what I have thought of the 500 notes in our little villages. They are not so much currency as they are scrip. A portrait of Jefferson Davis on the font would be apt.

But, I shared my solution with her. As soon as I get a handful of 500s, I march into the bank, take a number, and trade my script for 50s, 100s, and 200s. I am then ready to sally forth and overheat the local economy.

I told her I had just given her a perfect lawyerly answer. it was 100% factually accurate -- and useless. The ATM coughed up her money on Saturday. The bank was not open. This was Sunday.

One of my favorite ethics texts from law school was (and still is) Thomas L. Shaffer's On Being a Christian and a Lawyer. Shaffer's thesis is that lawyers will always be misled into inappropriate behavior if they simply try to comply with the Code of Professional Responsibility. Instead, lawyers must be counselors of truth. To be guided by morality rather than hollow professionalism.

Having dispensed his factual take on the 500-peso situation, a lawyer guided solely by the code would turn and walk away. A lawyer interested in true counseling would do more.

So, I pulled out my wallet, asked the woman for her 500-peso note, and gave her two 50s, two 100s, and a 200, and asked her if she needed any more 500s changed. She thought she could now manage until Monday when she would go to the bank.

It was too bad her hosts had not told her about the money situation here. But, those of us who live or repeatedly spend long visits here often forget. Change is just one of those background issues. But it was a reminder to me to ask my guests if they need change after visiting an ATM.

Now, I have no idea if that little exchange was what Shaffer had in mind. It certainly was not one of those tortuous moral issues that lawyers face daily. But it was good enough for me on that fine morning.

The tourist from Ontario had her water, some spending money, and a bit of advice she may or not use. My pal the clerk was thankful that a moment of non-communication ended well for all. And I walked across the street for a church service that dealt with the need for Christians to live out the ideals Jesus taught -- and, once again, realized how short I fall.

But, for the three of us, it was a moment of change.