Berlin is poor and filthy, and nearly everyone lives on welfare. When the state assistance dries up, the whole city runs to the one pawnshop chain that operates a virtual monopoly on hocked goods.
INTERVIEW AND PHOTOS BY FELIX NICKLASBerlin is poor but sexy. At least that’s what the mayor tells himself. In truth, the city is poor and filthy, and nearly everyone lives on welfare. When the state assistance dries up, the whole city runs to the one pawnshop chain that operates a virtual monopoly on hocked goods. Because of this, every pawnshop looks the same—a franchise of poverty. For insurance reasons, all the fancy and interesting stuff is locked away in a top-secret bunker and is only dragged out to auction every couple of months. Stephan Goebel, who is the magnanimous godfather-tyrant of all pawning in Berlin, controls the chain.
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Vice: So you’re the iron-fisted ruler of the pawnshop world in Berlin?Stephan Goebel:Yes. They all do what I say because I am the executive of the Pfandkredit group. You won’t find anyone who’s not connected to me.Has the lousy economy changed business at all?Not really. People in Berlin are, and have always been, short of money.What do people usually bring here?I really only accept things with constant values, such as gold, jewelry, coins, stamps, and so on. But sometimes we buy cell phones, game consoles, laptops, and computer monitors.Would you ever buy something odd or out of the ordinary?A pawnshop owner is allowed to take anything, but we generally don’t deal with antiques anymore. However, you could even sell your pants if the owner of a franchise accepted them.What’s the lowest amount you’ve paid out?That was about $9, for a wedding ring.That must have been a rather unpleasant marriage.Well, if he had offered me his wife as well, and if she was good looking, he would have earned more.Did he come back to collect the ring?I can’t remember, but about 90 percent of people recollect their stuff. We make our living off these people.Do people start crying if they’re late and their stuff has already been sold?No. It’s something that’s never happened to me. Most people in Berlin accept the loss of their things in a very calm way.
INTERVIEW BY ADEMIR CORREAPHOTOS BY FABIO POLIDO
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In Brazil, the only legal way to pawn your wares is through the national bank. But nobody has time to wait for the certification process. Bank officials denied our interview requests, so we hit the streets and spoke with a few grungy-looking people known as “sandwich men.” These guys roam downtown São Paulo wearing billboards that say “Compro Ouro” (“I Buy Gold”) and will negotiate a deal to buy valuables from any old fugitive, mugger, gang member, or junkie.Vice: Hi, how are you?Nilton Silva:Let me introduce myself: I’m Nilton Silva. That’s my artistic name.Do you like your job as a sandwich man?I’m a marketing man. I serve as a human gold ad. The job is so-so, but I do it because I need the money. My real love is music, but I don’t have many opportunities to sing.How long have you been doing this?More than ten years.What are people trying to hock these days?We buy gold, platinum, and diamonds. People bring wedding rings, necklaces, and bracelets. But usually what people really want to sell are cell phones.Are you seeing an increase in sales because of the financial crisis?Yes. Those without jobs need a way to live. If someone is in need and has jewelry, he’ll find someone to buy it. Why not us?Ever sold anything yourself?I’ve never sold any of my gold because I don’t have any Jewish customers, but I have sold a cell phone and acoustic guitar.You should probably ease up on the stereotypes there, buddy. How many people do you take to the store per day?
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