Coining it in

When, after years of fraught discussion (EU-style) the mighty Euro-making machine finally cranked into life on the 1st of January 2002, its reception – in Southern Spain at least – was mixed.

Personally, I was excited at the prospect of doing away with complicated calculations in the thousands whilst weighing up need versus want in supermarket aisles. And yet I also felt a little forlorn at the fate of our beloved pela (peseta) and its ever-so helpful duros (multiples of 5 pesetas).

Although perhaps it was not so much the fate of individual currency that saddened me; but more my fears that the introduction of the Euro might usher in more far-reaching attempts to transform one of the world’s most culturally diverse continents into a collection of dully uniform states. (24 years later, I am relieved to note that most EU countries have managed to maintain an innate disdain for their geographically closest but culturally disparate – their perception, not mine – neighbours, while also grudgingly acknowledging the benefits brought by unity).

I also struggled to see how it could be successfully executed. Germany and Spain obeying the same fiscal rules? Most unlikely, I muttered, but it’ll certainly be interesting to see them try… (the “trying” rumbles on to this day).

For a while it was interesting, especially when I realised that each EU country printed a different picture on its coinage, making collecting them a positively thrilling new challenge, right up until the point it dawned on me I would really rather be spending them.

And therein lay another problem, for with the arrival of the Euro came the price increases by stealth, and they were not insignificant.

In fact almost as soon as Euros rather than pesetas began to pop out of the cash machines and into consumer hands, shops and business seemed to simultaneously plump for the universal swindle – relying on the mathematical incompetence of their customers (they certainly had nothing to fear from me) and general confusion in order to get away with rounding-up the numbers on a large scale.

And when I heard local businesses being challenged about it, they either denied the practice outright or claimed that the price hike was to compensate them for spending money on modifying their systems to accommodate the Euro…

Another aspect of the new currency which contributed to the depletion of consumer pockets, was its sheer neatness:

“That’ll be 3.03€ please Señora… Don’t worry if you haven’t got the exact coins – I have change.”

Whereas in the past it was more likely to have run along these lines:

“That’ll be 304 pesetas please Señora, but just give me 300 – I have no use for those fiddly worthless singles.”

Or perhaps:

“You’re giving me 3€ for an item costing only 2.98€? No problem at all, Señora, here is 2 cents change.”

As opposed to:

“You’re giving me 300 pesetas for an item costing only 298? No problem at all, Madam, here is change of un duro (5 pesetas) – I don’t have any of those fiddly worthless singles.”

Also contributing to the brand new financial struggles people suddenly seemed to find themselves facing, were the smaller overall numbers being crunched – 30€ for a pair of shoes sounds like a steal when comparing it with its previous price tag of 4,500 pesetas, doesn’t it? At least it does to the numerically illiterate of which I was (and still am) a member.

Not wishing to contribute yet further to the hardships the Euro seemed to be inflicting on my fellow EU residents, I rounded my hourly teaching rates down to the easiest sum as opposed to up; thus making myself one of the cheapest mother-tongue English teachers in the entire Northern Hemisphere.

As well as the most regretful, when my landlady informed me that she had rounded my rent in an entirely opposing direction…