When changing money in Venezuela, one must think not in terms of tens, hundreds, or even thousands.
Here, Bolivares, the currency of the day, are counted in millions.
Yes, millions.
That means zeroes, and lots of them. Notwithstanding pre-Euro memories of Italy, I’ve now got more zeroes in my possession than I ever thought possible.
Here in Venezuela, the government makes it nigh impossible to obtain U.S. dollars. As inflation here balloons, some Venezuelans are eager – nearly frantic – to convert their currency into something more stable. To a Venezuelan, the preferred money is the good ol’ greenback.
The official rate of exchange, set by Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez in 2003, is about 2,100 Bs to $1 USD. However, the value of the Bolivare has plummeted more than 30 percent this year alone.
With a parallel market in full bloom that offers a rate of more like 5,000 Bs to $1 USD, the prices in Venezuela – from a snack at a street vendor to a 10-minute taxi ride to a night at the Radisson – are set to reflect that, not the official rate.
That means $5 for a taxi ride from the city’s eastern suburbs to the city center, instead of about $12, or 60 cents for a café con leche instead of about $1.50.
Still, cash withdrawn from an ATM is at the official rate. To travel in Venezuela at a lower cost, one must bring cash into the country and exchange it here. In fact, it’s not even possible to get Bolivares anywhere outside Venezuela, except through unofficial means.
As much as the Venezuelan government tries to control the country’s roller-coaster economy, residents here have found countless creative ways to get their dollars.
One option (and the most glamorous, in my opinion), is to head to Aruba, which is just a short swim off the coast of Venezuela, in the Caribbean Sea. Use Bolivares to buy chips in a casino, then retrieve it all in dollars.
It’s all very Daniel Craig.
My currency exchange experience went down on Monday, and without incident.
I glanced this way and that, then furtively handed over my slim packet of dollars. Like a blackjack dealer pushing the chips toward the high roller, my moneychanger swept an envelope in my direction.
Inside the envelope was money — and lots of it. It was enough to use in a Broadway musical, in the scene where the protagonist wins the lottery.
It was mine — all mine.
Or it would be, except for this little business called budgeting. I knew if I didn’t exert control on those zeroes that clearly outnumbered me, they would be gone in a flash.
How does one organize money when it comes in the form of millions, exactly? An image flitted across my imagination — one of Bill Gates, standing in front of a giant closet stocked with rows of small boxes, each labeled: $1 million.
Could that method work for me? I mused. Would it?
Indeed, I set out to divide the $50,000 notes from the $20,000s, and the $20,000 notes from the $10,000s.
My brain stretched, strained and groaned to handle all the zeroes – more zeroes than it ever anticipated it would be required to consider.
Oh, the hilarity of faux wealth!
It won’t be so difficult come January, when the Venezuelan government plans to introduce new currency – minus most of the zeroes. In an effort to streamline this country’s economy, 50,000 Bs will now be 50 Bs. What is now 100,000 Bs will, in three month time, be just 100 Bs, and so on.
Now, my gut says this economic quick fix might not be as cleverly simple as the Venezuelan government says it will be.
Besides, all the fun of feeling really, really well-heeled will be gone.
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