The Vagabond's Wallet



world currencies I found in my suitcase



I sit down at the table and assess the situation:  a plate of rice and beans (third time in two days), open the wallet to find it the home of nothing more than lint and a three year old condom.  Three months ago I had been doing the same job for a very similar company.  I’d gone out to eat for nearly every meal, partied hard, and even after a long night out, would often wake up and smile at how much money remained in my wallet.  So again, what happened?  I moved countries.

In the past four years I have been country hopping.  I work, like many other transients, as an English teacher.  What has surprised me more than anything is how dramatically my place in society shifts from year to year.  My first gig was in Vietnam where I instantly felt like a rich man.  I wasn’t really saving money, nor could I.  The currency of the Vietnamese dong was about sixteen thousand to the U.S. dollar at that time.  That said, sixteen thousand dong can get you quite a lot in Ho Chi Minh City.  With the wages I was making, I felt like a king.  Having moved from the states, it was as if I’d suddenly jumped from lower class to upper middle class…at times this made me feel guilty.

After that came Japan; what a kick in the nuts that had been.  The money I’d scrimped and saved to bring with me from Vietnam didn’t amount to much and there was a point before receiving my first paycheck that my wife and I were living off of condiment soup (it wasn’t quite as bad as it sounds).  That said, you get paid a decent amount and I found myself feeling like I fit in a lower middle class income bracket, but without any of the worries that many have (e.g. house, car, children’s education).  Basically, I’d live like a king for two weeks going out and living it up and then spent the next two weeks poor, reading books in my apartment.

The third move was to Korea, which was an amazing place to save money, but I found myself feeling like a slave.  I love the country but it was literally six months before I saw much of the outside of a classroom.  I literally have no idea where to place myself in this society, perhaps, no one really does.  You walk down the street and see seventy five year old hunchbacked women collecting cans that they can turn in for money right next to a department store that sells handbags for three thousand USD.  It’s poverty and decadence living hand in hand.  So, I found that I could spend as much or as little as I wanted, but I never felt myself wanting for anything.  It was more working hours than I could deal with and more money than I could spend.

Now, facing this plate of beans and rice I am struggling to find my place in society once again.  I haven’t been in Santiago, Chile long enough to really place myself in terms of class but I can say that compared to what I was making in Korea, the wages here are laughable.  In terms of lifestyle, I’ve noticed myself doing a lot more cooking, drinking the cheap beer, being careful with how much money I bring with me on a night out.  I’m a baby in this country and still getting myself set up, but I can’t imagine myself ever feeling rich here. 

In the past four months, I’ve managed to travel in three continents and the currency value has changed so dramatically that the bills in your hand begin to seem ridiculous.  A pound, a dollar, a boliviano, a Peruvian Peso, a Dong… they really are just pieces of paper and even when you calculate their relative value to each other, it means nothing.  To try and make sense of what a lifestyle might be in another country my friend and I had a system of calculating the cost of living via the cost of a pint at a bar.  You might be able to come up with a better system, but it all boils down to haves and have nots on different hierarchical levels.  In each country there are rich and poor people, globally there are rich and poor countries.  I guess what I’m waiting to see is where Chile will place me; will I thrive or face stockpiling rice and other dried goods.  Can I afford the beer at a bar.