Money and the micro-entrepreneur

You’ve got to admire the initiative and the industry of the Filipino. Every year for the past five years, I go to Malate across the San Andres market to purchase some colorful hats and horns of all sizes, and masks of every imaginable kind, from the frightening and grotesque to the beautiful, like Snow White. The horns are all done by hand, as well as some of the masks.

This year, I wanted to avoid the New Year’s rush on this micro-entrepreneurial strip that always locates itself diagonally across the San Andres market; I went on Dec. 29. The stalls were not yet there. I was informed that they start cropping up only in the afternoon of the 31st and sell their wares till about 11 p.m., one hour before the toll of midnight and the New Year. Apparently, they are tolerated by the local authorities only on that day. I therefore had to go back on the 31st.

These are the micro-entrepreneurs, who are truly amazing, not only for their ingenuity but also for their entrepreneurship. After going through each colorful stall and observing the person-to-person promotional work the stall owners were undertaking with great fervor, amid the healthy competitive environment existing on that “New Year’s Eve strip,” as my son later baptized it, I approached one which was even more colorful than the rest. Before I could get to it, the lady running the stall ran towards me and told me that I had bought from her last year, and that she would give me an even bigger discount this year.

This time she gave me her name, Delsa Lachica, and told me not to forget it. At the same time, she pointed to her kids who were doing their promotional work with potential buyers on the strip. Delsa also introduced the male owner of the stall right beside her, Rene de la Cruz. Apparently, friendship and comradeship prevailed over competition. They were selling the same goods but she was willing to share the sale with him. I purchased the sparklers from him and the rest — the hats, horns, etc. — from Delsa; quite a great deal, I realized. My family had grown and so had my household staff.

The promotional effort dished out to me by her children was a massive one. It seemed like a great universal effort by Delsa and her family. While I was choosing the horns and stuff, I noticed how all of them were joining in the sales pitches, most of the time at the tops of their voices, peddling really aggressively but not in a disagreeable manner. The kids were enjoying it. They had teamwork and they were laughing.

It was indeed a sight to see. That short New Year’s Eve strip — diagonally across the San Andres market, which is famous for its fruits — outclassed and overwhelmed the prime fruit market, even just for one day.

I really was not going to ask for a discount, but when Delsa gave it to me as I was about to pay, I did not refuse because she wanted an assurance that I would be back next year. Of course I gave her my promise that I would be back. I must have purchased more than two dozen horns, the bigger ones doubling as hats, aside from producing the greatest noise.

And I told her that the promotional effort undertaken by her young kids was exceptional and admirable — respectfully, not annoyingly — undertaken with potential customers. More than anything, it was effective. The kids seemed to enjoy every moment of it, which, I found out later from Delsa, was the most important thing. She was teaching them the value of industry, of teamwork and the importance of achieving a goal together.

Earlier, I had asked Delsa and Rene how much they expected to make. Without inputting labor costs, because work on the hats and horns was a family affair, and their families enjoyed working on them, they both worked on a capital of P5,000. Delsa said if she would end up with P10,000, meaning a profit of P5,000, she would be happy. They achieved their goal last year and were overjoyed, expecting to do the same this year or even better.

Can you imagine what achieving the P5,000 mark meant to them? It was a profit goal they had set and they were determined to achieve it. Such a small amount in today’s business world of millions and billions and trillions of pesos. Remember Peter Drucker’s doctrine: “Profitability is the sovereign criterion of the enterprise”? Well, in Delsa’s case, though it was great to achieve their goal, that was, by no means, a sovereign criterion for them. Seeing her family enjoying the work they set out to do, bonding with each other and enjoying themselves, was far superior. Grossing P10,000 was not primary, nor even secondary, to her. Delsa and her children looked to me like they were immensely happy.

The philosopher Vic Oliver once said: “If a man runs after money, he’s money-mad; if he keeps it, he’s a capitalist; if he spends it, he’s a playboy; if he doesn’t get it, he’s a ne’er-do-well; if he doesn’t try to get it, he lacks ambition. If he gets it without working for it, he’s a parasite; and if he accumulates it after a lifetime of hard work, people call him a fool who never got anything out of life.”

Indeed, many times, it is the Delsas of this world that make us realize and remind us what life is all about. I really think that Delsa and her family know this so well.

Through the years I’ve taken down notes on what, on the other hand, money is all about. This New Year, I’d like to share with you some of my favorite quotes about money:

1.  Money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy you the kind of misery you prefer. (Brown)

2.  If you make money your god, it will plague you like the devil. (Henry Fielding)

3.  The golden age only comes to men when they have forgotten gold. (Chesterton)

4.  Money is a terrible master but an excellent servant. (Barnum)

5. Money often costs too much. (Emerson)

6.  To be clever enough to get a great deal of money, one must be stupid enough to want it. (Chesterton)

7.  Money stolen from one’s countrymen at a time of their misery gives back misery a thousandfold. (Anonymous)

8.  When money speaks, the truth is silent (F. Bacon)

9.  Money will say more in one moment than the most eloquent lover can in years. (Pablo Picasso)

10.  I’ve realized after 14 months in America the value of money, whether it is clean or dirty ... a little hush money can do a lot of talking. (Madame Cao Ky)

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