In Auroville, I am about to move all my shit to the room
around the corner from me. Instead of tiles on the floor, there is cement. I
will switch from a double to a single bed. And the neutral odour in my current
place will morph into the faint smell of mildew. In all, I will save 150 rupees per night.
After two nights, this means 300 rupees. So like just over 6 bucks Canadian. Do
I feel smug? A little bit. And also maybe pathetically frugal.
Amazingly quickly, I have adapted to thinking in Indian currency. The
other day I was considering buying some guava fruit from a fruit lady.
“Oh no, too expensive,” I said, learning that two small pieces cost 30 rupees. At the time, it seemed scandalizing to pay more than 20 rupees for two larger ones. I walked away. In India, the Canadian dollar gets you about 48 rupees. For my daily budget, I aim for 1500 rupees or less. Accommodation and most often transportation included. This works out to around 1000 Canadian dollars per month. You’d be hard pressed to live so cheaply in Canada, even in Montreal. I hate doing this, but for the month of December, I kept track of all the money I spent. It was a total pain in the ass; however, I was able to observe that most days I spent less than 1000 rupees, and some days my total was as low as 297, 400 and 430. Yay me.
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| Internet in Auroville has demonstrated selective fatigue and is unfortunately unable to upload photos of my mildewed and un-mildewed room. And so instead, here is Matrimindir, Auroville's pride and Golden Ball. Rather a symbol of Wealth... |
“Oh no, too expensive,” I said, learning that two small pieces cost 30 rupees. At the time, it seemed scandalizing to pay more than 20 rupees for two larger ones. I walked away. In India, the Canadian dollar gets you about 48 rupees. For my daily budget, I aim for 1500 rupees or less. Accommodation and most often transportation included. This works out to around 1000 Canadian dollars per month. You’d be hard pressed to live so cheaply in Canada, even in Montreal. I hate doing this, but for the month of December, I kept track of all the money I spent. It was a total pain in the ass; however, I was able to observe that most days I spent less than 1000 rupees, and some days my total was as low as 297, 400 and 430. Yay me.
Oh money. What a relationship. I have always had a sort of
superstitious view of money. Like you shouldn’t worry too much about it, or you’ll
go broke. And I am afraid to look at how much I actually have, or how much I’m
spending, for fear I’ll discover I’ve totally fucked up. And yet, the reality
is, I am exceptionally responsible and resourceful when it comes to money. Having just inched across the poverty line, these days, I am set up so that I can live in India with minimal income until around
April. And although I am not being super proactive about getting translation
and writing contracts, most likely something will come my way. Despite all my
doubts and fretting, I will almost certainly be okay.
“Always pay your credit card bill on time.” My
father once told me this. It was the only financial advice he ever gave me. And except for during a
year of poverty post-university, I have always paid my bills in full, usually
weeks in advance. I’ve had the good fortune of being on the receiving end of
generosity. To help me out while I was starving after graduation, a dear friend
gave me a gift of 2000 dollars. Soon afterwards, I met the Boatman and he
invited me to live in his home rent free for more than a year. Sometimes this
is kind of embarrassing to admit. Like I am a charity case and can’t pull off
shit on my own. And well, I really truly hope I can pay forward all this
kindness someday soon.
Which brings me to the 300 rupees I am about to save. Back
in Delhi, I found a financial book in my friend Fern’s fancy apartment. A small
bright pink paperback, it was called, “The Naked Accountant Asks, Who’s Standing
on Your Financial Hose?” The Naked Accountant’s name is Jean Backus. Like the
title, the book is somewhat abominably written, although it begins with an
interesting story about a car accident. The book costs about 13 dollars but
once you are done with it, you are encouraged to pass it on, which I imagine
decreases the overall profits.
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| Who's Standing On Your Financial Hose? |
My self-help book only costs $2.99, including the excellent pictures. So far, Amazon hasn’t
given me any money for it since I haven’t hit 100 bucks in royalties. I wonder
how much money Amazon is banking from aspiring authors who earn nineteen
dollars each. Oh well. Perhaps it is my act of generosity. To Amazon, and to
the Universe.
Naked Accountant Jean Backus compares the journey towards
financial freedom to a road trip from Austin, Texas to Boulder, Colorado.
Creative analogy. She recommends replacing the Scared Small Fretting Child and
Ego Bully into the respective Wonder Child and Co-Creator. The Small Fretting Child
and the Ego Bully have deep and paralyzing doubts about their ability to thrive
financially. They are afraid they will never have enough and constantly
criticize your higher and/or deeper self for your seemingly poor financial
choices. Unlike the Small Fretting Child and Ego Bully, the Wonder Child and
Co-Creator view the universe as an abundant place of great wealth. (It seems
they have never been to India…) They approach the world with awe, and are
committed to figuring out exciting solutions to all your financial issues. I’m afraid I may not have the concepts or
terminology exactly right since I left my copy of Who’s Standing on Your
Financial Hose in Rishakesh, in a dusty, mildewed room that cost 200 rupees per
night.
One thing I do remember is the importance of envisioning
your chequing account as a living, breathing organism. I have been giving this
a try.
“Chequing account,” I say. “You Are Alive.” So far I have
made 400 bucks.
In any case, it is time for me to switch over to my cheap
and mildewed room. I wonder what exciting thing I will do with the extra 300
rupees.
If you would like to hire me for exceptional financial
advice, do let me know. Naked or not, I would love to discover who’s standing
on your financial hose.
The End.
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Fancy Room (500 rupees), Mildewed Room (350 rupees) (courtesy Canadian Internet) Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook |
