Value and Cost

In deciding to enter into the wonderful world of the Peace Corps, the price of admission is 2 years of one’s life. Now, yes, the 2 years aren’t squandered or wasted; certainly the time I’ve spent in Samoa has been great, and I’ve learned a lot about myself and the world. But even with that, there’s an opportunity cost at work, and in the days and weeks leading up to my departure from The States, I realized the things I would not be around for: the 2008 presidential election, the 2010 Winter Olympics, the final season of LOST, and for me, probably my 10-year high school reunion.

Our reunion is still in the naissance of planning stage—I’m good friends with our class president, Virginia, whose job it is to organize the event, and right now she’s waiting for responses from a survey asking people what they’d like to do for the reunion, when it should be held, and how much people are willing to pay.

I talked to her on Sunday, and we discussed the issue of cost. She said it looked like people thought $40 was reasonable, except for a few outliers who’d be willing to pay upwards of $100, which she couldn’t fathom. And then she asked what I would be willing to pay.

And at that moment, I felt the most out of sync I’ve ever felt with life in the United States. Not until I was asked directly did I realize how I’ve lost all concept of American money. It felt a little like that scene in “Rain Man” where Dustin Hoffman’s character thinks a candy bar and a compact car cost roughly the same price. Granted my barometer isn’t quite so off, but I was still quite baffled by the question.

Part of the problem is I’m used to dealing with American money as an indirect currency. 100 Samoan tala is roughly equal to 40 U.S. dollars, and I occasionally have to use that information when making a large purchase here. So for the last year and a half, my experience with the dollar has been mostly indirect.

Also, volunteers don’t tend to think of things in terms of American dollars since we’re paid in Samoan tala. Our friends come to visit, and they’re so tickled by how cheap things are here in terms of American dollars, but since I make a fairly modest Samoan salary, budgeting, particularly budgeting for recurring expenses, is all done in tala. My dial-up Internet costs roughly $150ST per month, which comes out of my Peace Corps living allowance. At no point does the dollar factor into this.

In fact, in my eyes for the past year and a half, the dollar has been completely finite and not something associated with a salary or any other method of replenishment. When I spend my American dollars, it better be worth it because I’m not going to see my American money grow until I go back to the States and get an American job. And thus figuring out a “reasonable” expense becomes difficult because the criteria have changed.

Finally, even in tala, I don’t have very much budgeting to do anyway. I don’t pay rent or utilities. I don’t have a cell phone plan. I don’t have a car, so I don’t have to factor gas money into my monthly spending plan. With my monthly wages, I buy food, Internet, phone credit (which isn’t as predictable as a plan), and miscellaneous items. As much as I adhere to a budget, it’s not a complicated regimen.

So when she asked me what I thought was reasonable, I felt a little baffled. At this point, the difference between $40 US and $100 US seems both vast and negligible, and at this point I have a really difficult time assigning the term “reasonable.”

Does this make any sense? My mind was shocked by its own inability to function, but I’m not sure I can communicate how bizarre it feels to lose perspective on something like money. It’s amusing and unnerving. I guess it’s another price of Peace Corps admission.

I hope you’re well. Pictures below.

I left my camera with my school's secretary for 5 minutes today, and I come back to find self-portraits galore.

Rugby practice this afternoon.

Thanpuii brought over beef curry she made from scratch after I fixed her computer last week. Awesome.

Allowance

In nearly every Peace Corps interaction I’ve had in the last 2 weeks, someone has chimed in to make sure everyone in earshot has submitted their Volunteer Living Allowance Survey. This survey is how the Peace Corps gauges the proper amount volunteers should receive monthly. The monthly allowance has been a controversial topic among volunteers, particularly at VAC meetings, and people are getting snappy about each other to make sure the form gets turned in. At the core of the issue is the Country Director is allowed to raise the monthly living allowance more than 10% only if at least 75% of the in-country volunteers submit their Volunteer Allowance Survey.

I have been pretty open about the fact that I don’t spend the full allowance every month, and that I brought the volunteer average down when I submitted my form. I live in Apia, I rarely need to pay for transportation, and I’m relatively small compared to some of the other volunteers here (I’m not insinuating people are fat; I’m just saying Paul, Phil, AJ, Dan, and Jordan are each over 6’ tall, and need more food than I do.).

One of the bigger discrepancies in how much money a volunteer uses each month comes out of one’s job. Many of the village-based development volunteers (i.e. groups 78 and 80) live with host families, so they give their family somewhere around $200 WST per month and that takes care of meals and laundry. Almost all teachers (i.e. groups 79 and 81) live alone and have to budget groceries, laundry detergent, toilet paper, etc.

Beyond the Peace Corps though, Samoa has undergone quite a bit of inflation in the past year. Through the Peace Corps rumor mill echo chamber, I heard average annual inflation in Samoa is usually between 1 and 3%, but this past year it was estimated to be somewhere around 13%. The price of the ferry has gone from $8 to $12. Admission to Magik Cinema, the only movie theatre in the country, has gone from $6 to $8. I’ve also heard the price of popcorn has gone up, but who has money to pay for popcorn?

The most annoying one for me is the price of landline phone calls increased from $0.01 per minute to $0.02 per minute. Yes. It’s just one more penny per minute. But that’s a 100% increase, and when you aggregate that over a month, it means going from, say, a $30 bill to a $60 bill. That's lousy.

On Sunday I posted a picture of the guys from group 67, and they were saying during their service the monthly allowance was only $75 less than the current rate. That was 8 years ago. So maybe it’s time for a little bump.

The Peace Corps walks a fine line though. The goal is to pay volunteers a stipend that will allow them to maintain the same standard of living as the people in the community where they live. Paying volunteers too much money undercuts efforts to connect with host country nationals, and it would be weird if teachers at my school found out I was making more money than they are… which I’m not.

I’m pretty sure that my monthly wage is just about the same as the teachers at my school. Although I think they got a raise after the fonotele in May. So maybe it is time for the Peace Corps to step it up.

I hope you’re weathering the economy. We’re coming out of the Great Recession now, right? Pictures below.
















People lined up for the ferry. The ferry's price has jumped twice over the past year.
















One other reason I spend less is I get a muffin and tea every day. And occasionally more. I apologize profusely, but I don't know the dish seen here. It's kind of kokoesi, but different.
















These girls from the 10.1 class hang out outside my room often.

Birthdays, Budgeting, and American Me

All of us in this picture had birthdays this week. Me (81), Christian (78), Benj (78), and Trent (80). And we all turned the same age. Really weird. Also weird is despite the constant gatherings of volunteers this weekend, the moment this picture was taken was the first and only time that the four of us were actually gathered in the same room. Part of the difficulty in assembling this group for a picture was that Benj was in Fiji until late yesterday afternoon.

In any case, confluence of 4 of us born within 8 days each other was cause for celebration, and with celebration comes spending money. Don’t get me wrong, other volunteers bought me drinks and stuff. There was an outpouring of generosity. But when everyone is working on the same shoestring budget, people can’t be expected to foot too many costs. And between meals, taxis, and a certain amount of celebration, life gets a little more expensive for the birthday boys too. At times like this, I like to call on my American counterpart, American Matthew.

As Samoan Matthew, I receive a monthly stipend from the Peace Corps, and I try and budget accordingly. But occasionally, American Matthew steps in to supplement certain expenses. American Matthew has very few living expenses. Since his existence is on hiatus for a couple years, he doesn’t have to pay rent or car insurance or phone bills. And even though he got laid off a year ago, he was able to get by on severance and such. So compared to Samoan Matthew, American Matthew is relatively wealthy.

But lucky for me, American Matthew is also generous. He pays my internet bills and most of my prepaid cell phone refills here in Samoa. And on special occasions, he does nice things. He took me out to dinner on my birthday. He bought the boxed wine for yesterday afternoon’s get-together.

Other Peace Corps are hesitant to rely on their American counterparts for any Samoan expenses. And I can understand that. Some people prefer to save that money or use it for traveling. The Peace Corps also frowns on using American money to pay for things. Volunteer stipends are calculated based on an annual cost-of-living survey, and volunteers are encouraged to live on the same economic level as a typical Samoan in the same position.

It would be inappropriate for me to get a big screen TV or an air-conditioner for my house or a car (Peace Corps aren’t allowed to drive anyway.). I think I follow this rule pretty well. I sewed my own curtains. I cook most of my own meals. I rarely take taxis anywhere. I only dip into rich American Matthew’s pockets for, like I said, internet bills, phone minutes, and special occasions.

And the weird thing is, Samoan Matthew actually saves enough money each month to cover all of these expenses. But American Matthew has a debit card and can therefore pay bills much more easily. It’s also nice for Samoan Matthew to have money saved in Tala for certain things (monthly variations in food spending, occasional large purchases, cash for stays in beach fales, etc.).

There’s a fine line that separates who pays for what, and Samoan Matthew sustains himself pretty well. And American Matthew is hesitant to pay for too much. But the 2 Matthews work it out. And in the end, everyone wins.

I hope you’re budgeting well. Pictures below.















You are all weirdos.
















Erin was among those hanging out at the Peace Corps office this morning.





















Peanut butter. The ones on the top shelf are 12 oz. for $8.40. The bottom shelf are 16.3 oz. for $8.55. Which is the better deal? Hmmm...





















This glove fell into this position by itself. Fight on.

Outside the Fishbowl

Though I was laid off in March of last year, my severance lasted until the end of May, which means I wasn’t added to the un- employment statistics until then. And I remember hearing in early June that May had been the largest increase in unemployment for some time. I find this almost completely coincidental. The day CNET called me to tell me I had a job, there was a news story about how the CEO had resigned. The company was in a precarious state for much of the time I was there, and I honestly believe it had little to do with the faltering economy. We made jokes about it, in fact. I remember the head of our department quoting Urbandictionary.com’s definition of “Bear Sterns-ing”; that is, thinking you did quite well on a task only to discover you’d failed miserably.

So the economy hadn’t really hit its stride in the downward spiral by May 2008. It sat in the figurative toilet, but it hadn’t been flushed quite yet. I spent the summer interviewing around between episodes of a string of different TV shows on DVD, and by October, I was on a plane to Apia.

For most of training, we were oblivious to any American news. Tim Lincecum won the Cy Young Award, Barack Obama won the presidential election, and Janet Jackson might be pregnant. Globalization is the way of the future, but it takes a while for Fausaga to feel the effects of Wall Street.

Since training has ended, it’s still been difficult to see any direct effects of the global economic crisis. Volunteers from groups that have been here longer have seen an uptick in the price of bread and rice and other goods, as well as increases in transportation fares. I’m told that the ferry used to be cheaper, and that the new $12 WST ticket is steep compared to the old rate.

The only tangible effect that I’ve noticed is that Peace Corps Samoa has had to streamline costs including paring down staff. And even that is a bit tangential in the sense that it’s a congressional budgetary issue rather than a direct effect of the economy massacring the private sector.

But other than that, it’s hard to tell that the rest of the world is in crisis mode. Apia is developing all over the place. One small grocery store, Lucky Foodtown, has temporarily moved to a block down the street while they remodel their more permanent location. The largest grocery store in town, Farmer Joe, has done quite a bit of remodeling since group 81 arrived. They’ve added an air-conditioned liquor section, upgraded the meat and produce sections, and implemented a uniform policy for its staff. A large hotel is under construction in the middle of downtown Apia.

And yet my daily NPR podcast paints a much more dire picture: Stories explaining collateralized debt obligation, tracing General Motors’ fall, and profiling ordinary Americans who are having a tough way making ends meet.

This last part is particularly interesting as I compare and contrast with the way things are here. For the most part, I can relate to the situation because I find myself taking the same strides here to save money. I eat out less than I did in The States, I avoid taking taxis, I spend quite a bit of time scraping out the peanut butter jar before I am completely satisfied that I have used it all.

But it’s even more interesting to compare the profiles of ordinary Americans trying to make ends meet with the lives of rural Samoans trying to do the same. Life out in the village is tough as hell, and it’s a constant struggle to get by, but that’s not because of the economic crisis, it’s just the way it is here. And I think the people in rural Samoa are happier than the stressed out Americans.

I’m not really sure that I have a point here… All I’m trying to say is it’s eye-opening.

I hope your eyes are being opened too. Pictures below.
















My year 13 class requested that I take their picture today. Marie's bunny ears on Sinaumea were done with a shockingly straight face. It's sad that they're kinda washed out by the ceiling.
















I ran into Cale and Sara at the office. We shared an impromptu early dinner/late lunch.
















I had to go into the computer lab late this evening to input the changes for the school schedule that go into effect tomorrow (Several new teachers started this week). Solinuu insisted on hanging out in the lab despite my refusal to turn on the air conditioning. So there we sat in what must have been 90+ degree heat, our shirts off, making changes to a dull Excel file. It was weird.