Affordability means nothing in Halifax

I’m supposed to be writing about how I afford Halifax. Instead, I can’t stop writing about all the ways I can’t afford this city.

Truthfully, I’m not the one affording it. My parents pay my tuition and rent. All I worry about are utilities and groceries, knowing that if things ever got truly dire, my parents would be there.

I told my friend all of this with guilt. I am surely not the right person to write this story, or to even say the word affordability. 

My friend’s perspective was comforting — we’re all comparing ourselves all the time with no real understanding of someone else’s situation. How many people pay their own rent and tuition and feel frustrated when they cannot afford groceries, even when everybody else seems to have no problem? 

It’s sobering to think how, even without rent or tuition eating away at my paycheck, I still don’t really afford Halifax. How every unexpected cost means I won’t grocery shop that week. How I can’t justify costs that feel unnecessary, like bedroom curtains or a coffee table in the living room, because I always have to save for something else later.

Sometimes the “something else” is not a necessity, but an experience. Recently, I signed up for a rock climbing course that cost over $100. Although this course wasn’t a necessity, I have this idea that I shouldn’t deny myself hobbies outside of school and work. Would I rather block out the sun every morning or climb with my friends? I chose the latter.

The choices are not always fun.  When my old rain shoes started leaving my feet wet every time I wore them, I knew it was time for a new pair. What I didn’t know was that MEC is one of the most expensive places on earth, and my coffee table budget went out the window.

Living in Halifax is constant budgeting with no reprieve. So, I guess what I’m here to do is give some perspective.

I go weeks without buying groceries. It feels like a little game of “what meal will I come up with today?” It’s surprising just how long I can make it last.

My favourite is a peanut butter and honey sandwich. The bread I get from work. I bought honey last year with farmers’ market vouchers. My peanut butter is a pantry staple. This works as breakfast or lunch.

I stop at the community fridge in the Student Union Building for odds and ends. I dice up potatoes and carrots from the fridge and toss them in the oven with a can of black beans. This meal will last a few days.

I can’t offer advice on grocery affordability. No matter what I do, every grocery run feels like a punch to the gut. It’s an adjustment to go from my parents’ house, where there were always things to make whatever I wanted on a whim, to my own. I can’t just buy whatever looks good — grocery shopping is a carefully planned science.

I’ve recently enlisted my roommate to help with my grocery shopping. Before we go, I view the grocery store’s website. We compile the items I need, create an exact meal plan and then hunt for the cheapest option per 100g. We trim items down until we are under budget. This often means I don’t get to buy sweet potatoes. Quinoa is a cheaper option. If I already have a block of tofu in the fridge, I won’t buy another until next week. Nickels and dimes.

It also often feels like a matter of luck. My job at a café gives me one free drink a day. My little sweet treat is free. At the end of the week, any bagels that can no longer be sold go to staff for free. 

I am lucky to work in an environment that does not want its food to go to waste.

Affording Halifax also means no work ever feels like enough. Even if I were working full-time alongside school, I doubt I would feel like I was doing enough. I forget the true definition of affording also means having savings, an emergency fund, a savings account for a down payment and a separate savings account just for life.

How am I supposed to worry about saving money when I have to finance a tub of Ben & Jerry’s? 

I don’t really have any answers. It’s hard to balance school and employment. It’s hard knowing whatever I am feeling is 100 times harder for other people without support.

I would rather not think about what any of this means for the future. It’s easy to live in a dream-world where unaffordability is a word reserved solely for university students, and the moment I have a steady job, these financial habits will be a thing of the past.

Is it better to live in my fantasy land or mentally prepare to spend the rest of my life pinching pennies and always worrying — just a little bit — about my future? 

But this is reality for most Canadians, and it shows no sign of slowing down.