What Country Does Your Money Come From?

I was looking around my apartment the other day and I had the realization that if nothing else, by definition of what I collect, I’m officially a traveler. Let’s be honest here, who else is going to have their only collections be maps (which, I will note, make up the only decorations in my house), postcards, and foreign currency. So what if I don’t have a solid plan for my future? When that future comes, I’ll at least have some damn good stories to tell to the guy sitting next to me as the plane takes off for Brazil or Nepal or Tasmania.

I recently had the chance to get out of Morocco for a little bit and take off on an adventure to Spain and Gibraltar with some friends, marking the first trip I’ve ever planned and taken as a full functioning, competent adult. No parents, no school planners, no job requirements. Just an awesome vacation with some really awesome people, where I was entirely responsible for myself for the first time. This all may sound a little silly, but for someone who has dreamed of traveling the world her entire life, this was a big moment for me. It was the official start to my quest to see the world, taken into my own hands, and charging head first into everything I've ever dreamed of.

The Mediterreanean to the right, the Atlantic to the left,
Spain in the distance, the U.K. under my feet, and Morocco
to my back. 

But, as seems inevitable, my mind came with me on vacation (weird how that happens…), and I of course have new and insightful thoughts that I think the world should know about (what other kinds of thoughts would I have?).

Over the course of our trip, we spent time in 3 countries, spoke 5 different languages, and dealt with 4 different currencies. I often times tell people how much something here in Morocco cost me, only to have them ask me how much that is in dollars. My response is often an attempted quick calculation in my head (I’m not really great at dividing by 8 I’ve learned), followed by “I don’t know, I get paid in Dirham’s, not Dollars.” I just don’t think in U.S. Dollars. I don’t need to.

But for this vacation, I was tapping my American bank account, not using my work account here in Morocco, which, as I quickly learned, wouldn’t have lasted very long anyways. Spain uses the Euro for currency, while Gibraltar, an English territory, uses the Pound. It’s 1.3 Dollars to the Euro. It’s 1.5 Dollars to the Pound. Its 8 Dirham’s to the Dollar. Its 11 Dirham’s to the Euro. Its 12 Dirham’s to the Pound. Is your head spinning yet? We all kept borrowing money from each other during vacation and I was the one each night to sort out who owed who what, and in what currency, and apparently I’m pretty good at it. Who knew?!

But the point is this: Imagine you’re a Moroccan. You’re born and raised in Morocco to a typical family in a small town somewhere; your family doesn’t exactly spew extra money, if you catch my drift. It’s fairly common here in Morocco for people to go to Europe to work and send money back to their families, specifically to either France or Italy (both are on the Euro, try and keep up, it’s an 11:1 exchange rate).

When I hit the ATM when I first got to Spain, I, using my American debit card, pulled out €200. My bank account then promptly showed I was $263 dollars poorer. Kind of a gut wrencher to see that happen. But it was interesting, to say the least, to finally travel somewhere where my American dollar was weaker than the local currency, and realize what it feels like to be Moroccan every day, dreaming of getting out of Morocco to something “better.”

 

Dirhams, Euro's, Dollars, and Pence

But let’s go back to you pretending that you are a Moroccan looking to travel to Europe to find work. With an 11:1 exchange rate, it’s almost impossibility. For every Euro you need, you need to save 11 Dirham’s. Just to afford the plane ticket alone is a far-fetched dream for many people. The fact that I can claim that title of “traveler” is a direct result of the fact that I was lucky enough to be born and raised in America. The fact that the money in my bank account is dollars, and not Dirham’s (or, heaven forbid, Kenyan shillings, at 100 to the American dollar), is the reason I can afford to see the world, especially if I stay out of places like Europe.

In an ever-changing world, there is a rapidly growing difference between the worlds wealthy, and the world’s poor. And unfortunately with exchange rates like these, the people who are born into developing nations, it is becoming increasingly more difficult to be able to ever see more than just the village you are from. And while this may not seem like “your problem” right now, as the world evolves, it will be soon enough.