Thanks to the coronavirus, the Spanish government has been forced to venture into a vast marketplace, one that is even larger than the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. This new bazaar encompasses the whole world, and its most treasured objects are not handwoven Persian carpets or cashmere pashminas but rather medical protection equipment, surgical masks, and gloves. However, without a doubt, the most sought-after treasures are ventilators, which can mean the difference between life and death in times of coronavirus. When there are not a sufficient number of ventilators available, doctors are forced to choose which patients will live and which will die. Ask my son.
Consequently, countries throughout the world, at least those with a short-term memory longer than that of an aquarium fish, have begun stockpiling this precious material. Those that are smarter than a fifth grader also implement the logistics to efficiently distribute these items to the areas where they are most needed. Needless to say, the Spanish government has not managed to reach the aquarium-fish standard or to pass fifth grade.
Ever since our government had its epiphany and finally realized that Spain is immersed in a health (and economic) crisis of epic proportions, it has been hurriedly trying to buy large quantities of medical equipment in the vast international bazaar. Since this initiative occurred to them somewhat late in the game, everything is now much more expensive. However, even in this economically unfavorable context, they have had no choice but to purchase these items, whatever the cost. Their eagerness is pitifully evident, and those selling medical equipment in the great bazaar know a desperate customer when they see one, a pigeon ripe for plucking.
Not surprisingly, the purchasing efforts of the Spanish government have been somewhat less than successful, perhaps because they are unfamiliar with the rules of engagement in a Persian rug market. The Minister of Foreign Affairs and her cohorts have little or no idea how to navigate the intricate labyrinth of supply and demand.
In many Oriental and Arab cultures, haggling is part and parcel of any buying experience. It is both a science and an art. One is expected to haggle everything from a taxi ride to the price of a tomato. Those who have travelled to places like Shanghai or Istanbul are well aware of the need to bargain for each purchase and to never assume that the protests of the vendor, who invariably swears that you are taking the bread from the mouths of his children, are the truth. Even when bargaining is more or less successful, it is a given that a foreigner will always get screwed to a certain extent. It is just a question of limiting the damage.
Even though the Arabs occupied Spain for 700 years, the haggling gene seems to have gradually disappeared over the centuries. Maybe it was the expulsions of the Moors by Ferdinand and Isabel, or the purges during the Inquisition, but this gene has evidently not survived At least that is the only conclusion that can be derived from the depressing chain of failed missions that Spain has launched to acquire and obtain medical equipment from countries like China and Turkey.
The first monumental failure was when Spain bought 650,000 rapid testing kits from Shenzen Bioeasy Biotechnology, an unlicensed company, which, in all likelihood, is the Chinese branch of the Dollar Tree discount stores. The government initially admitted that the first 9,000 kits that arrived had to be returned because they did not work. Soon afterward they confessed that they were actually forced to return all 650,000 kits because they had a sensitivity of 30% and were incapable of even detecting a loud sneeze.
In an exercise of masochism, the rapid test kits were re-ordered from the same company. Today after a few thousand more deaths, the government claims that the tests have at last arrived and will be distributed. (No one is holding their breath until this happens.) And so, rapid testing still remains a chimera, and even more difficult to receive than a normal test.
My youngest son, who is a police officer in Madrid, has been off work for almost a month because his bosses want to make sure that he does not have coronavirus (his partner fell ill with it). He has no symptoms and is eager to return to work catching conmen and pickpockets at the Madrid Airport.
Apparently going undercover and chasing bad guys is a more restful occupation than staying at home, where he is the adoring slave of his two-year-old daughter, who demands that he play with her all day (which he generally ends up doing). He has asked to be tested but no tests, rapid, slow or otherwise, are available, at least for the police force. It is precisely for this reason that there are deaths (such as those in the nursing homes) that have still not been counted in the great coronavirus tally.
The second commercial fiasco concerned ventilators and sanitary equipment, manufactured in Turkey on behalf of a Spanish firm that had bought the components from China. When the shipment, which had cost millions, was in transit to Spain, the Turkish government suddenly seized it, and said that the equipment would be used to treat its own patients. When the Spanish government protested and tried to get it back, efforts were largely ineffectual. The most that was achieved was Turkey’s dubious assurance that it might consider sending the shipment off at some unspecified date in the weeks to come.
Public indignation was so great (800 people dying each day) that the government kept insisting. Finally, Turkey acceded to send the shipment though, once again, no one is holding their collective breath until it arrives.
Needless to say, in the grocery line today, there was much conjecture about what Spain had offered or threatened Turkey with to make them change their mind. One of my neighbors, who is a retired barber, said that he knew the answer. According to him, Pedro Sanchez had threatened to halt the pilgrimages to Istanbul, where each year hundreds of bald Spaniards travel to get cheap hair implants. All of us laughed, but that is the best explanation that I have heard so far.
This seems to be one more episode in the current epidemic of “medical piracy” where modern Blackbeards are not pirates, corsairs or privateers, but rather national governments, who confiscate and withhold shipments of personal protective equipment and ventilators bound for other nations or states, who are in desperate need. There have been many episodes all over the world, and there will continue to be. It is question of supply and demand.
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