Super-duper financial discipline

This is not a new idea, and it's certainly one that's gotten more play in the U.S. media since the onset of the latest financial crisis: if you want to control your consumption, buy only what the cash in your pocket (or your drawer or under the mattress) allows.

Though it seems a bit backward in this area of electronic everything--and I must admit the huge advantage of being able to manage my existing U.S. accounts online--I appreciate the fact that Nicaragua still exists largely as a cash economy. There has been a noticeable increase in the availability of banks, ATMs and the like since I first started visiting here, but it's still a very small percentage of people who actually use them. So virtually everything is cash, and small bills at that. It is always a headache to deal with 500-cordoba notes (= about $25), or even 200's; I usually take care of them at the Pali, which is the Walmart-affiliated American-style supermarket in town where I buy a few select items each week. Use of credit cards is virtually non-existent, except among the wealthier tourists & folks in Managua.

Now that E. & I are pretty much done with the construction and furnishing of our apartment--paid for from savings--we are trying to live by the rule that we will not make any further withdrawals from my U.S. accounts, but rather only spend what we are actually making. Again, I know this is not a new concept. Lots and lots of people in the U.S., and I imagine elsewhere, live "paycheck to paycheck." The major difference in this case is that we don't have plastic to fall back on. And while I've never had a super-plush job, I've been fortunate enough in my working life to earn enough that I didn't really have to think too hard about maintaining what I'd call a solid middle- to middle-upper-class existence.

Here, in our collectively under-employed and under-paid state, we are struggling to cover our basic expenses--food, first and foremost, then utilities (though we have yet to receive our first electric bill; I had a nightmare a few days back that we got it and it was $3,373. Yes, three thousand DOLLARS and change. Yikes), then the bare minimum of cell phone minutes, a very little gas for the car, toiletries, and that's about it. An occasional meal out of the house--for example, our $15 lunch yesterday to celebrate a special anniversary--throws us way further out of whack than I'm accustomed to, but it does help us maintain our sanity, so I guess it can almost qualify as a necessity. After that, we try to set aside a few cordobas every week for special purchases: first, some perfume (mostly for E., who must smell good to feel good ;-) ); some furniture; and now, less glamorously, a new set of tires. We barely finish paying for one thing before the next item occurs to us...and this is for a household of only two pretty financially conscientious/a.k.a. thrifty people.

I have commented to several friends and family that I have no earthly idea how "regular" folks get by here, when prices for so many items equal or exceed U.S. levels. For example, beef and pork both cost the equivalent of over $2.00 per pound, while chicken is $1.50-2.00; milk, $3.00/gallon; butter, $4.00/pound; eggs, almost $2.00/dozen; toothpaste, $1.50/small tube; toilet paper, $2-$2.50/4 rolls; gasoline, $4.00/gallon. You get the idea. Produce is relatively inexpensive, thank goodness, but woman cannot live on tomatoes and onions alone!

To put things in further context, E.'s monthly salary of $200, for 50+ hours of work per week, is considered very good here. This is for someone who is bilingual and has computer skills, international experience, and several years of education past high school--a serious rarity in this country. With my B.A., M.S., multiple languages, and about 15 years of U.S. and international work experience, I'm pushing the envelope by asking more than $10 an hour for some of the specialized work I do. And it's far from full-time, only temporary contracts, no benefits of any kind, no long-term security.

So I'm definitely left scratching my head about other people's paths to subsistence, let alone building for the future. Especially because--here's where the criticism unfortunately has to come in--many locals' idea of what constitutes "the basics" includes cable TV, never-ending junk food for the kids, and of course alcohol in copious quantities. There is no culture of savings, no concept of a rainy-day fund, no sense of how to budget and live within one's means. Even if people had such ideas, they almost universally lack the education, skills and socio-cultural resources to act on them.

I've seen this phenomenon in other low-income countries I've spent time in, but I haven't had to live with it day in and day out. What to do? I'm speaking not for ourselves, because I'm pretty confident we will always find a way to get by--but for the people around us. Even proven ideas that have taken hold in other places, such as micro-financing or small business development programs (e.g. Grameen Bank and all its followers), fall flat here. You want to see a vicious circle in action? Come to Nicaragua.

[And by the bye, here's the wonder of the blogosphere: my original intention for this post was to say something positive about "doing more with less" and how even a well-trained consumer could change her habits...and it ended up being a depressing, seriously superficial commentary on the chicken-and-egg nature of poverty. I feel unsatisfied by what I've said but will publish nonetheless, with hopes of explicating my thoughts more effectively another day....]

Goldilocks was a wise little girl

Today I had a small success: in making lunch for E., I was able to get the fried plantains--tostones, in Nicaraguan and Cuban Spanish--just about right. This seems like a small thing, but as I am not very accustomed to deep frying as a primary method of cooking, I have yet to develop that sense of when the oil is at just the right temperature--not too hot, not too cold, but just right! (My dad, of course, has the sense after years of making scrumpdillyicious homeade donuts. But I guess it's not genetic.) In the past, I usually erred on the side of too hot, which meant the plaintains came out dark, dry and tough. Sometimes, if the oil was too cold, the coveted yellow disks languished too long and absorbed waaaaay too much grease. Neither result was appetizing. In any case, I was pleased that I managed to pull off the tostones, refried beans, roasted pork and rice all almost up to local snuff, and with the right timing. Hurray!

Several people, in particular my favorite former boss Mary Jean, have commented that they can't quite imagine what my daily life is like here in SJdS. One very short answer is that it involves a lot more manual labor and domestic tasks than I ever did in the U.S., and that's one of the things that I enjoy. Don't get me wrong, I've had a number of interesting and challenging jobs that have (mostly) kept me out of trouble and paid my bills, but I was just plain tired of sitting in front of a computer all the live long day. Such is the nature of white collar work. Now I can choose when and for how long to connect...this is why I'm not blogging constantly.

Today, for example, went very quickly--starting at about 6:15 a.m. when I had to leap out of bed and run next door to beg for a bucket of water after E. was left all soaped up with no water from the shower. The rest was taken up by buying, cooking & delivering a couple of meals to my love, who is trapped behind a desk at the Internet cafe; doing several loads of laundry in spite of the slow trickle of water; ditto several rounds of dishes; tracking down and conversatin' with four different lawyers to see how much they will soak me for to get my residency straightened out; prepping for & giving an English lesson; taking my favorite young kitty to the vet for follow-up from spaying surgery; and...I don't remember what else. But I find it sort of amazing that so many hours can pass just doing mundane tasks. And only about two and half hours of that would qualify as "work" by U.S. standards.

One small reason to love SJDS: cheap ice cream!

Yesterday was one of those icky, sticky days. Paradoxically, "winter" here is more unbearable, weather-wise, than "summer"--while we wait for the rains to start, the humidity and pressure build and build until you are left praying for a downpour. Of course, you have to be careful what you wish for, because rains often mean extended power outages, i.e. no fans to cool off, no showers to get clean. Well, you either learn to live with it or run screaming back to northern climes.

In any case, I was happy to visit the nearest Eskimo store--about the only commercial brand of ice cream that exists here--and pick up a double scoop for 15 cordobas, or about $0.75. Can't beat that! Mmmm....coconut....