Making Sense of Centimes
by Dorty Nowak
Over the past nine years that I have lived in Paris, I’ve acquired a passable knowledge of the language and can navigate the city’s interconnected web of metros and busses with ease. Ask me the name of a good restaurant in the Marais, or the best time to go to the Louvre (Wednesday evenings) and I have a ready answer.
However please don’t ask me for change – I have a problem with centimes.
Five centimes. Photo by bulbocode909 via flickr CCL
I can’t blame this on the euro conversion. After all, I’ve had plenty of time to get used to the new currency. Granted, the French persist in showing the cost of items both in euro currency and in French francs, which may be patriotic, but as far as I’m concerned adds an unnecessary layer of complexity to any transaction. Do I need to know that an item costing five euros costs 32 francs, eighty centimes?
Or rather it would, if the franc were still an accepted currency, which it is not.
The euro system has 1,2 and 5 cent coins. The word “cent” is imprinted on each coin. Why then do the French continue to call cents “centimes”? Perhaps they just like the sound of the word. The 1,2 and 5 cent pieces are all copper colored, varying only slightly in size. This is a problem. I fail to see the need for a 2- centime piece anyway, but that ‘s just my two cents worth.
At first I did try to count out exact change. Dix euros, soixante dix-sept centimes. I was fine with the euros, but let me see, was that 77 or 87 centimes? Once I had the correct amount figured out, I’d rummage in my change purse while servers and those behind me waited with real or imagined Gallic impatience. It was all too much. My solution, which worked for years, was to deal almost exclusively in euros.
As a consequence, I’d amassed a significant copper collection.
I confess I’ve had to dispose of hoarded pennies from time to time. Absent a small child with a piggy bank, I’d go to a bank and ask for those brown paper cylinders that each hold a dollar’s worth of coins that could then be exchanged at the bank for paper currency. Thinking that perhaps the same system existed in France, I headed to my bank to inquire. After the teller stared at me as if I’d asked her to sell me sausage, I drew a diagram. “Ah,” she said, “We don’t have them. You must go to La Poste.” In France the Post Office is also a bank, so that seemed reasonable.
I went to La Poste, where I was told, “We don’t have them. You must get them from your bank.” Undeterred, I went to another branch of my bank. “No, Madame,” I was told, “you must get them from the branch where you have an account.” So I asked,
“If I had an account here, would you give them to me?” The teller said, “We don’t have any,” dismissing me with a look that needed no translation.
The centimes were weighing heavily on my mind, so it was time to move to Plan B.
I bought a box of sandwich bags and put a euro’s worth of one or two centime pieces in each one. With a bag in hand I went to the newsstand nearest my apartment and asked for a journal that cost sixty centimes. The vendor handed me the journal and I dropped 30 two-centime pieces into his change tray while saying, “Pardon me, Monsieur, but all I have today is change.” The vendor, from whom I have purchased newspapers for years, grabbed the journal out of my hand, waved a finger in my face and shouted, “Non.” No? “Bon” I said, “consider them a gift.” That was a mistake. He picked up the change tray and flung it at my chest, centimes flying everywhere.
Clearly I needed another plan. I decided to hand out my centime baggies to the homeless. Surely they would be grateful. I soon discovered that this was not the case. No one threw them back at me, but I learned a lot of new expressions that aren’t in my French phrase book.
I did eventually find a solution. One day I mentioned my problem to a French friend and she said, “Spend them in bakeries. They love to have centimes.” I took her advice, and my coin collection dwindled. However, now I have another problem. It involves pounds, and I don’t mean the currency.
Dorty Nowak is a writer and artist living in Paris and Berkeley who writes frequently about the challenges and delights of multi-cultural living.
[photo credits: lead image by bulbocode909 via flickr creative common license; bakery box with coins courtesy the author.]
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Reader Comments (19)
Thank You, Dorty, for giving us another glimpse into the mind of our favorite Parisienne! Enjoy introducing more of your holiday spirit to your growing grandchild. Don't forget -- Christmas is for Grandparents (and don't let anybody tell you different).
With our love, Dan & Gretta.
Lovely post, Dorty; enjoyed your humorous take.
Great piece, Dorty - am forwarding it onto my Francophile friend who spends as much time in Paris as she can - I am sure she will relate!
Delightful, Dorty. Your writing is so visual I can see it happening!
Thanks for this fun glimpse into life in Paris. Your creative solution sounds delicious!
I laughed, I cried - a terrific memoir.
Wonderfully written. You have perfectly rendered images of our lives in Paris and our love of the city, despite all the grumbling and Gallic shrugs.
Thank you Dorty - looking forward to seeing you in April so we can shed the pounds by running from museums to art galleries to cafés. Bring back some coin wrappers for your friends. Maybe we'll start a new trend.
Humorous and delightful. Brilliant ending!
Wonderful vignette -- SOU droll! Your writing has the restrained evocation of the hilarity, irony and ennui of everyday living that is reminiscent of James Thurber and other masters of this domain; while remaining uniquely pure Dorty. Loved
it!
Love it! I shall think of turning pennies into pounds every time I visit a bakery. Thank you for sharing your gifts of observation and writing with us.
Such a delight to read. And, I admire your tenacity. Well done!
Great story. Thanks for sharing your experiences but don't forget to share the loot from the bakery.
Thank you for putting a smile on our faces. Your stories always capture the essence of the event and put a fun twist on the outcome.
Can't wait for the next story.
Lori & Ron
From the audience response, it sounds like Dorty should become a regular columnist, eh? She is a talented analyst on the subject of travel and the cultural insights it can bring to a perceptive observer. I think she would attract regular readers if more of her work became available. Heck, I would like to read her poetry as well. -- Dan
Funnier than a $3 dollar bill with a very happy ending!
Formidable!
Elizabeth
Thanks to all of you for your encouraging comments! I'm glad you enjoyed this article - I had fun writing it.
Another insightful and funny story. Always a good read.
Fantastic writing! I am mad about the throwing of the change at you though! Also Abby wants a pink cupcake, Jake will take what he can get :) I agree with Nancy, lots of tenacity!
Dorty,
I totally understand what you go through when using centimes. Your humor escalates to a point that gets me practically talking back to you while laughing like a child in high bright squeals! I can relate to the Frenchness of it all and how one can offend when not ounderstanding the protocol. Merveilleux! Julie