Hoarding My Change In Budapest

Eastern Europeans hate making change. No one wants to be the one to break the big bills from the cash machine, of course, but even with the small ones, cashiers ask the customer impatiently for exact change. I keep thinking, “You’re the one with the cash register, honey. Open it up and give me my change, already.” The result is a shortage mentality about change. I hoard my coins – coins that back home would go unloved into a jar on my dresser – are carefully counted and recounted, and kept close at hand in a pocket. Do I have change? Yes, I do, but it’s mine, all mine.