As a proud and prolific book worm I am sad to say that my experience of American writers has to date been shamefully limited to reading Tom Sawyer / Huck Finn as a child then later Roll of Thunder / Of Mice and Men / Snow Falling on Ceders at school. As this is hardly a list worth writing home about, one of my aims during this year is to delve into American literature a little deeper. In fact my American bookworm friend and I took a hour or so’s break during our night out in San Francisco this week to peruse a late-night bookshop, gaining comfort from the familiar spines like old friends and absorbing suggestions for favourite books before returning to the bar. Only the classiest of nights in the city involve bookshops… 🙂
A couple of 21st century texts that I’ve stumbled across already (partly as they are pertinent to my initial experiences of life in the US and also because my housemate is friends with one of the authors) are Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich a book which looks at the lot of the low-wage earners post the 1996 Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Act, and a counterpoint text by Adam Sandford, Scratch Beginnings, that charts his quest in search of the American Dream, starting homeless with just $25. Others far more eloquent than I have dissected and contrasted these texts so I shan’t do so again here, but I will offer some observations of trying to get by with hardly any money here here in NC compared with the UK.
What qualifies me to do this? Due to a series of boring reasons that I won’t relate here, for the first seven weeks of my time here I was attempting to live on $15 (£9.50ish) a day. This sounds like a lot when you say it fast but with just two suitcases to your name in a new country I’ve discovered that to achieve this requires thrift, resourcefulness and a lot of good will.
Fortunately I’ve found these in bootloads here in Durham. I cannot credit my Northern root stock enough for the predisposition to sniff out a bargain and for ensuring that I coped in the “cold” Fall weather. Far more importantly though, are the organisations here such as the Scrap Exchange, Durham Bike Co-op and the reuse / recycle stores too numerous to mention. Donations to these enterprises are encouraged by tax deductions ensuring a seemingly steady supply of stuff at accessible prices. For less than $30 (£20), I have furnished a room with desk, bookcase and storage. By donating my Sunday afternoon to learning how to fix up other peoples’ bikes at the co-op, I have acquired a bike to commute to work. Through the generosity of others I have been loaned essential items – a spare room, a chair, pots and pans, a bike lock – and been given lifts home, to the mountains and the airport. In addition I have benefited frequently from a 20mile network of free bus services through downtown Durham, across Duke campus and out to UNC Chapel Hill. On the odd occasion I have had to use the admittedly slow and infrequent general buses, I have paid just $1 for the privilege. Contrasting this with the $5.60 (£3.50) my husband had to pay for a single 3mile bus journey in Bristol last week is perhaps the starkest example of the differential in living costs. I haven’t had many luxuries but I have got by, kept my balance in the black and had some fun to boot.
So making a little stretch for a while has been surprisingly possible, but there are also downsides. Food for example. While food prices generally are reasonable, my local supermarket pretty much exclusively stocks processed food – to get fresh fruit and veg requires an hour of cycling or four bus rides. And buying healthy food is comparatively expensive – I can get two McDonalds’ Meals for less than a bag of apples or oranges. And no, I’m not comparing a dollar-saver-menu meal to a bag of super-hyped organic fruit, just the regular varieties of each. Add to this the cost in time and money to get to a supermarket (with or without a car) and it’s easy to see why those on a budget tend to have poorer diets.
Additionally, I skimped and scraped safe in the knowledge that any financial hardships would eventually be righted by my comfortable, guaranteed, graduate-level income. I have become very fond of righting the fallacies spread by certain political factions in the US about the NHS (maybe I’ll make a list of these on a blog post one day…some would be truly hilarious if they weren’t honestly believed). Now don’t get me wrong, all healthcare systems have their faults, however it is crystal clear that if on my limited budget I couldn’t afford to purchase a duvet and pillows with winter fast -approaching, I damn well wouldn’t have money spare for health insurance. I’m constantly assured that if there was an emergency even uninsured, I’d get treatment. Fine, but what about basic health services? An insulin level or blood pressure check? The contraceptive pill? Eczema cream? Pain relief? Dirty liberal that I am, this makes me very uncomfortable.
I don’t pretend I’ve had it bad here, that I’ve personally experienced real poverty or deprivation. Unlike Ehrenreich or Sandford, I’m not in a position to judge whether poverty is escapable in the US. Getting by on very little is something that many of us have to do in our lifetimes. The gap between the old job and the next pay cheque, the relocation to a new city, the arrival of a child, an exploding boiler or failed MOT. May these shortages be infrequent and temporary for you.