Recent Publications
The Softer Side

Artist: Tomoko Ikeda
Title: Pensive Traveler
Owner: moi

I'm a total fan of her work. I even made it to one of her Exhibitions in Ginza, Tokyo—I was the only dude who didn't speak Japanese (well, I speak some, but not enough). Check out her website. 


In 2009, she published a beautiful photographic book of her doll art collection, Scenery of Time.

DEBTOR NATION

National Debt 1960-2011

MY NEW BOOK....

How I lost my moorings in Tokyo. Read Chapters 1 & 2.

@Ronnie_Baker: Genuinely funny, entertaining & well written. Highly recommended.

@lothisoft: Great read, got very sad towards the end but what a fantastic finish. Are you writing a sequel?

Buy it at Amazon.com

 

 

Chapter 1 ♦ AIRMAIL FROM AFTERLIFE

1976

One rainy summer day, I packed my backpack and went to America. I was seventeen. I knew what I was doing: I was escaping from the debacle at home. And I was looking for something. For what exactly, I didn’t know, but I’d go look for it in America. There, the heat burned in my nostrils. Lawns were brown. Cars were big and air-conditioned. Girls went gaga over my accent. Guys thought I was cool. And I fell in love with it all.
          Three years later, I was paying my way through college in Texas when the notion of home, distant and convoluted as it had become, blew up with gratuitous violence. A Boeing had crashed into a mountain in Turkey, killing all 155 people aboard. I heard about it on the radio. But I didn’t connect the dots.
          A few days later, I found a message from the operator in my campus PO Box. Telegram, call Western Union, it said. I called from one of the pay phones. My heart was pounding in my temples, and I had trouble hearing the lady on the other end.
          “I’d read it to you,” she said. “But it’s in German. I think you better come by and get it.”
          “I’m fixing to go to work. Can’t you try to read it to me?”
          “Oh dear.”
          “Is it long?”
          “Two lines.”
          “Can you spell it?”
          “Well, I guess I could. Are you ready?”
          I pulled out a notepad and pen. “Ready,” I said, though I knew that I wasn’t ready, that I’d never be ready for whatever she was about to spell.
          “E-L-T-E-R-N new word,” she said, “A-M new word M-O-N-T-A-G new word M-I-T new word F-L-U-G-Z-E-U-G new word I-N new word D-E-R new word T-U-R-K-E-I—”
          “Stop! Please.” I couldn’t write anymore. Parents on Monday with plane in Turkey.... German sentences, even in abbreviated telegram style, had the main verb at the end, but I didn’t want to hear the main verb, didn’t want to hear it spelled out letter by torturous letter. “Thank you. That’s enough.”
          I’d escaped the debacle at home and had gone as far away as possible. But this wasn’t what I’d had in mind. I stood there in a daze, brain deadlocked, numb, clutching the receiver, drowning in abysmal emotions.
          Then I went to work. It was just a part-time job, but now I needed the money more than ever. Afterward, I drove to the Western Union office and picked up the yellow slip of paper with twelve lines of all-caps alphanumeric gibberish and two lines of readable text. It was from my sister, sent from the town where she was staying with friends. But it didn’t include their phone number. And my brother was on vacation somewhere. So there was no way to reach him either.

Next....

TESTOSTERONE PIT, the novel

Wolf Richter

Chapter 1    Circle Jerk

It was Saturday, the biggest day of the week, and everyone was working bell to bell, over forty salesmen, though Ferronickel didn’t know exactly how many he had because some hadn’t shown up and might have started selling cars some other place, and because he’d hired a bunch of new guys an hour ago.

“It’s a beautiful day,” he sang in a basso profundo voice as he marched across the showroom in his asymmetric gait. He was the general sales manager at the Ford Superstore. His Tabasco Sauce tie was loosened, his collar unbuttoned. His gut that hung over his belt strained his shirt. He had puffy eyes and was full of mean energy, ready to explode, ready to force things to happen. He blew out the door, came to a halt on the porch that surrounded the showroom on three sides, and lit a cigarette.

Al Millikin, one of his four sales managers and perhaps the best closer in town, was watching Mad Boxer work a customer on the truck lot. Potential deal.

“Why can’t he bring that guy inside and write him up?” Ferronickel said.

“He ought to tell him we got free pussy on the showroom,” Millikin said.

“Don’t give me any ideas for our next live remote.”

“Come to think of it, that would be a hell of a lot more effective than the classical rock-and-roll shit we’ve been doing.”

“For our male customers.”

“We could alternate. Free pussy one day, free Godiva chocolates the next. We’d have both ends of the spectrum covered.”

“You’re a fucking Einstein, Millikin.”

Reginald Pierce, another sales manager, a big guy with a shortish Afro, was jumpy and his eyes darted about. He fretted about Whacker Packer, Hackman Jones, JoAnn Delouche, and several other salesmen who’d formed a dope ring by the plate-glass window. If left alone, they’d make up rumors, complain about dealership coffee, and infect each other with morale problems. He singled out a young guy.

“Freddie T, are you going to participate in a circle jerk?” he growled. They called him Freddie T because of his unpronounceable Greek last name. “Or are you going to sell something?”

It startled them; they’d forgotten all about selling. And they drifted apart.

Lou Massago gesticulated on the phone in one of the closing booths. He wore a white button-down shirt, a red and blue tie, slacks, and ostrich-skin boots. A scar curved upward from the right corner of his mouth, giving him a lopsided grin even when he was serious. His eyes were set close together and peered out from under his bushy eyebrows with ferocious intensity. But he had a soft voice when he wanted to, and now he wanted to because he was talking to a customer about a 15-passenger van that had come out of the rental fleet. There were ten of them. They were scratched and dented and had too many miles on them, and they were overpriced, and no one could sell them, but he was king of sales, and if he could sell them, it would prove he could sell anything.

He hated working the phone. He needed his customers in front of him, needed to stare into the whites of their eyes. But no one had sold any of those vans yet, and to prove he was king of sales and could sell anything, he’d decided to sell them all. Besides, the Saturday rush hadn’t begun yet, and calling old customers was more productive than standing around waiting for something to happen.

Next....

« Update: Another Eurozone Country Bites the Dust | Main | The Inexplicable American Consumer Strikes Again »
Saturday
Oct292011

Another Eurozone Country Bites the Dust

Real estate in the Republic of Cyprus has been popular with foreigners who own about 100,000 homes—in a country with 803,000 people. The British alone, whose colony this was until 1960, own more than 60,000 homes. Turns out, real estate is Cyprus' national sport sponsored by dumb money. But now it has become a nightmare that is unraveling the finances not only of expat home owners, but also of developers, banks, and the government. Yet it's hushed up. By comparison, the banks' impending losses on Greek sovereign debt, significant as they are, seem outright manageable.

"The most common mistake people make when buying property in Cyprus is to use a lawyer who has been introduced or recommended to them by a property developer," says Nigel Howarth who has helped foreign property buyers in Cyprus for more than 10 years. Foreign buyers are sitting ducks. They're unaware of the local business culture and don't suspect that their lawyers are in cahoots with developers--aided and abetted by the banks.

The country acceded to the Eurozone in 2008, but it's already in a heap of trouble. A recent loan agreement with Russia of €2.5 billion will keep it afloat for a few months into 2012. Then it's bailout and haircut time. On October 27, Standard & Poor's cut Cyprus to BBB. The big problem: exposure of its banks to Greek sovereign, corporate, and bank debt. But not a word about the title-deed scandal and the billions that evaporated with it.

As in the U.S., after years of speculative overbuilding, the real estate market is collapsing. Building permits are down 40.2% for the first eight months of the year and 49.4% for August. Home prices have dropped for six consecutive quarters, according to the Central Bank. The steepest declines were in the coastal regions favored by foreigners. Of the 45,000 unsold properties, many are unfinished, and some are essentially abandoned. The Cyprus Property News points out that they "were built for buy-to-flip investors and are unsuitable for permanent living."

Prices would have dropped even more steeply if the banks had dealt with their non-performing loans. But instead of pressuring developers to sell properties to service their loans, they're pressuring appraisers not to reduce values so that loans appear to be adequately secured.

These kinds of issues have cropped up in the U.S. as well. What's unique in the collapsing housing bubble in Cyprus is a title-deed scandal of unimaginable proportions. And it has embroiled waves of foreign buyers.

"The bulk of the problems stem from the archaic Ottoman land law still in existence in Cyprus which allows these dubious practices," writes the Cyprus Property Action Group. Insufficient industry regulation and lacking enforcement of consumer protection laws also play a role.

The scheme works this way: A developer takes out a mortgage on the land but hides it from foreign buyers. The bank retains the title deed as collateral. When the developer sells the property, the buyers' lawyer, who is in cahoots with the developer, doesn't perform a title search and doesn't "discover" the original mortgage. Buyers, assuming that their part of the property is free an clear, either pay cash or take out a mortgage. The developer pockets the money instead of paying off the original mortgage. The bank goes along because it can collect interest on one or two mortgages. But it retains the title deed as collateral for the original mortgage, and the buyer never sees it.

Throughout, buyers are told by everyone, including the government, that a buyer of immovable property is absolutely protected once the sales contract is lodged with the Cyprus Land Registry, and that they don't need the title deed.

Meanwhile, as the property is still under construction and buyers are overseas, the developer strikes again. Alan Waring, an international risk management consultant, explains:

"Some cases have also involved alleged 'double selling' fraud whereby the developer sells a property to Party A, fails to lodge the contract with the Land Registry, and then sells it again to Party B (possibly for a higher price) but fails to reimburse Party A."

Proving fraud in court seems to be impossible. In a recent double-selling case, the judge ruled against the plaintiff: lodging of a sales contract at the Land Registry does not mean that buyers "automatically and in perpetuity have become the ‘owners’ (as they mean it) of the residence," she wrote. Hence, only possession of a title deed confers protection against double selling.

But the bank still holds the title deed as collateral for the original developer mortgage, and it has the right to foreclose on the property. Under normal circumstances, it takes a bank between 9 to 12 years to obtain control over the property. So banks extend and pretend until the developer goes broke. Then they move to recuperate a property that one or two other "owners" have paid for.... A nightmare. And no legal resolutions are in sight.

The numbers are stunning. In this tiny speck of a country with 803,000 people, about 130,000 properties are still awaiting their title deeds. If the average value of these homes is €150,000, then nearly €20 billion worth of properties might be in dispute, many of them with more than one mortgage and more than one owner.

The banks aren't talking. And they aren't writing down their assets to reflect the layers of mortgages that are worthless. Developers are going bust. The money they pocketed has disappeared. Expat homeowners who don't hold title deeds are terrified of losing their homes, even if they paid cash. There are no legal processes in place to resolve this. Estimates of the missing money range from €3 to €6 billion—enough to take down all Cypriot banks. By comparison, the banks' exposure to Greek sovereign debt is estimated to be €4.2 billion, of which only half will have to be written off.

In response to the impending haircuts on Greek debt—and not to the title-deed scandal, which continues to get hushed up in the hope that it will somehow go away—the Cabinet approved draft bills to recapitalize its banks and create a fund to stabilize the banking system. But there is no money to put into the fund (see EFSF, so leverage it?). A package of austerity measures has been approved. It includes such stalwarts as cutting 1,100 already vacant positions in the civil service and reducing entry-level salaries for civil servants by 10%. However, the government did blink in the title-deed scandal and revised some of the Ottoman property laws—a great example of too little too late.

"It wouldn't surprise me that all those who bought properties in Cyprus might in the end be forced to pay additional money if they want to keep what they already paid for," said my source in Cyprus.

"We don't have any doubt about the solidity of French banks," said the French government—a week after the collapse of Dexia. All eyes are now on Société Générale and BNP Paribas. BNP is the world's largest bank with assets of $2.8 trillion, dwarfing France's $2.1 trillion economy. And they're desperately trying to stay afloat.... France's Fishy Denials as Mega-Banks Teeter.

Reader Comments (6)

You've hit the nail on the head!
October 30, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterNigel Howarth
You have missed the mari disaster and lack of political fallout.i.e. no government responsibility, lets just add the cost to the electric bill. A solution to the CY problem is at a worst stage of negotiation than 30 years ago. The national airline is a deep hole for euros. The hunters are blowing anything that moves out the sky, and the Russian are coming!
October 30, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterHugh
Great article, the best I have read. Where did you get the information which is so accurate?
October 31, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterK
Hugh - thanks for pointing out these items.

Yes, indeed, I had to leave out a lot of stuff; the article was already way too long (almost twice as long as the ideal length). There are numerous issues in CY that deserve attention, but I tried to keep my focus on the title-deed scandal and how it impacts the banks and an already teetering country.
October 31, 2011 | Registered CommenterWolf Richter
Tom - Thanks.

The original materials and allegations came from my contact in Cyprus. Then I researched the situation to corroborate the facts. In the process, I learned a bunch of new stuff. So it was an interesting article to do. Since the article came out, I've heard from some readers with additional insider information on the title-deed scandal and the legal background, and I will post an update probably today.
October 31, 2011 | Registered CommenterWolf Richter
Will have the same end effect as in USA: nobody will buy anymore any house to any developer !
Even if a house is fully payed back, some mortgage paper on this house continue to circulate between banks, until one bank foreclosure your property!
October 31, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterJean-Francois Morf

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