Cheapaholic goes to France

LILLE, FRANCE – One of the things I remember most about my grandmother is how she would grab all the packets of sugar and Equal from restaurants and put them in her bag whenever we ate out. She also kept packets of ketchup from fast food restaurants and even kept the ones we only half-used. I used to be so amused and it always made me laugh.

Now, I’m the one folding tissues into my bag, grabbing packets of salt and pepper from restaurants, asking for different kinds of sauces so that I can take them home and put them in my sandwiches, and pocketing hazelnut spread and butter from our breakfast at the dorm to use for making meals. My lola had taught me well and when I look at my little collection of condiments in my room, I can’t help but be amused all over again. Yes, welcome my life as an exchange student in France, where I hoard every single free thing I come across to be able to save money. Every time someone asks me, "How’s France?" I always answer the same thing.

"Expensive."

I’ve always been a cheap person, and when it comes to shopping, I almost always go for price rather than quality. It’s not a very wise trait unless you want to end up with a lot of easily worn out and broken shoes like me, but I find joy in finding the best bargains and the cheapest prices in all corners of Manila. I comb through malls, department store, and even Divisoria looking for all kinds of irresistible and oh-so-affordable treasures. While some people don’t reveal that their couture-looking garb is actually dirt-cheap, I love telling people that my shoes are from the ukay-ukay or that my huge beaded earrings cost about P50. Even when I buy school supplies or eat lunch, I’m always drawn to the cheaper alternatives. Hey, even if I love good coffee, I don’t need to go to Starbucks – a hot and cheap cup from the vending machine at school can give me my caffeine fix.

Before I came to France, people were already warning me about the sky-high prices. One of my friends told me that it’s the second most expensive country in the world next to Japan. Another told me to start stuffing myself because when I get to France, the only thing I can afford are baguettes. As much as I like bread, I try to stay positive. I wasn’t going to live in Paris anyway, where the prices are definitely going to be high because of its massive popularity. Lille is about an hour-and-a-half away from Paris. I was hoping that the distance was enough to dilute the high prices into affordable ones. Also, I stuffed my suitcase with all imaginable things that I might need in my five months away. Five packs of coffee packets. Bottles of shampoo, conditioner and lotion. Sachets of moisturizer. Pantyliners. Rolls of tape. Batteries for my MP3 player. An extensive collection of medicines for any given situation. I even brought two blue hampers to put my clothes in. I wanted to spend as much as possible on basic commodities and try to travel around Europe. I’ve practiced enough in Manila. I believed I was ready for the big-time scrimping in Lille, France!

Unfortunately for me, I had underestimated the ceiling of the prices in Lille. Apparently, they loved high ceilings, just like the ceilings in churches where you have to crane your neck to look at the intricate designs and end up with a cramp. Well, I ended up with more than a cramp. The first day was horrible. My friends and I had decided to look for a place to eat lunch, and each time we looked at menu of a certain place, I would have to pick up my jaw from the ground. My mind was automatically converting every meal’s price to its equivalent in peso, and then reeling in shock. We finally settled on a Greek sandwich place that sold huge sandwiches that resembled shawarmas for about 4 euros.

Afterwards we all went to the grocery to buy things for our respective dorm rooms. There was more price-converting, jaw-dropping, eye-popping and mind-reeling. Imagine – for a single can of tuna, I could have stuffed myself in a fast food restaurant back home. I wanted to cry. After combing each aisle for the cheapest possible food, we (painfully) paid for our supplies. I remembered my friend’s baguette comment and realized that I might be eating baguettes for the rest of my stay. Baguettes and the packets of coffee in my suitcase.

The good news is that after three weeks, I learn not to convert and I got used to high ceilings. After a while, I begin to fill my basket at the grocery without getting that neck cramp. After a while, I begin treating myself to lunch after Sunday mass and I don’t get a heart attack when the cashier rings up your order.

Of course, I’m still doing every thing humanely possible to hold on to my euros. I continue to write my expenses down every day, and it helps a lot because, just like those dieting girls who record everything that goes in their mouths, you see that even the smallest expenses can add up to considerable amounts. I cook in the dorm and given the limited number of ingredients I can afford, I’ve ended up with all kinds of sauces for pasta (still the easiest thing to make in the world), from creamy sardine to broccoli and cheese. As I’ve told my friends, experimentation brings fruit to some really yummy stuff. I’ve also learned how to cook rice without a rice cooker (thanks to my friend the "Rice Master" Charles). Since our dorm charges us for laundry, I try to limit using the washing machine as much as possible handwash and dry most my clothes in my own room. Also, when my friends and I want to go around Lille, we put on our good sneakers and walk instead of taking the subway. It’s good exercise and we sneak in a little bonding time.

It’s been a real challenge to scrimp on practically everything. (Parents, if you want your children to appreciate your hard-earned money, send them on a semester to France. It will be worth your money.) Back home, my Dad hands me my allowance every Monday. Here, I’m controlling my entire budget for the rest of my stay. Yes, I’ve stopped converting in my head, but I still keep my budget in mind whenever I buy anything. I wouldn’t want to spend a ridiculous amount of money on something totally unnecessary or something that I don’t want that much. I still get the wind knocked out of me whenever I have to spend more money than I would in the Philippines, but I know that with each passing day and each carefully budgeted purchase, I’m earning – and learning – so much more than ever. My ticket from Paris to Lille and my first purchase in France: 24 euros. The experience of studying in France, living on my own, learning new French words by talking to the baker, meeting fellow students from all over the world, discovering new cultures, and even finding bargains in France: definitely priceless.