on money.

if anything, being a peace corps volunteer teaches frugality and the art of budgeting. the design of the peace corps money distribution is that we are given enough to live comfortably alongside other people in our villages without standing out, without looking like rich americans. so, on the first of every month, we are given what is called an ‘allowance.’ it actually is called an allowance, yes. i am 8 years old again. this bit of money is used for our monthly needs — food and rent. the rest is then free to be used up on our monthly wants.

after a while, however, most ‘wants’ turn into ‘do-i-want-to-spend-my-money-on-that?’ about once a month, i’m lucky enough to be able to walk around in a grocery store. i walk next to families with shopping carts, amazed by all the goodies they are going to bring home. shopping carts are an amazing thing. a very american thing, as well. we buy so much food that we needed to design a small vehicle to transport it to the front of the store. sometimes i carry a small basket in the store and still think ‘why am i buying THIS MUCH?!’ i stare at things that used to be all-to-familiar sights, now updated with their imported prices, like five dollar boxes of pop-tarts and seven dollar bags of doritos. i usually walk out of the store with peanut butter, jelly, and a loaf of bread. and that still seems like too much.

on the upside, things are cheap here. for example, mango season has come and gone. at the best part of mango season, i would buy a kilo of mangos (usually about 8-10 mangos) for about 50 cents. and now, rambutan season has started. rambutan is a majestic little fruit. on the outside it looks like an futuristic moon fruit. but on the inside it looks like a prehistoric dinosaur egg. it’s hard to complain about getting a bag of ‘exotic’ fruit for less than a dollar. but a little voice in my head still says ‘don’t do this every day, you’ll be spending thirty extra dollars a month!” but when it comes down to it, money can buy happiness in the form of deliciousness. so, why not?

every once in a while, however, i spend without thinking. like that night where i accidently drank (well, i purposely drank them) three whiskey and cokes without knowing that they were Jack & Cokes for $17. i should have felt a lot drunker. or a lot happier. dinners with other volunteers usually turn into lengthy “is everybody SURE they paid for their share, we’re TWO DOLLARS short” ((*gasps*)) somebody better ‘fess up, because i’m not paying two extra dollars for that pizza that’s going to give me a stomachache in an hour anyway. two dollars can buy a lot of rice.