Monday, October 24, 2011

How to save your money (but not the rainforests)


So, you’ve moved country. Found a place to live. Made friends.  Started to settle in. There can’t be much more to worry about, right? Sorry, wrong.

Once the move is over, you have a couple of days to get over the fact that you’ve moved to a new country, and then you have to turn your attention the practicalities of living abroad. This doesn’t just mean locating the nearest place to buy your morning baguette (although this is obviously high on the list of priorities). Living abroad isn’t cheap, so you need to consider the best way of getting around the town, the cheapest way to pay your rent, whether or not you can apply for the CAF (a government-based allowance which students in France can claim towards their monthly rent), what phone contract to have, and so on.

It has to be said, the administrative system in Montpellier is simultaneously very bureaucratic and quite, well, archaic. Every possible transaction, whether it’s at the bank or your university, requires a million pieces of paper to be signed by a million different people. I’m not actually sure any longer what I signed up for at the bank, because I must have written my signature around fifteen times. All the pieces of documentation required wouldn’t be too problematic – if there was anywhere to print them.

In fact when asking where you can find printers in university, you are met with puzzled looks and vague directions to the photocopying room – which is frequently closed. There are a couple of internet cafes which will print and scan near the university, but it’s better to go prepared. In the first week I was asked repeatedly for copies of my passport, health card, letter of student status, letter of Erasmus status, learning agreement and so forth. These are all things that you’ll receive well before you leave the country, and I cannot recommend enough making about five copies of each before you move. You can guarantee that for everything you apply for, you’ll be told there’s at least one more form you need to fill in, so you might as well go with the basics pre-prepared. More often than not, your landlord will have to fill out an attestation de logement and provide you with a copy of their passport and a bill to prove your address – so it’s worth getting several copies of these in one go too.

For the majority of people, a French bank account is indispensable.  If you pay rent to a foreign account by bank transfer, the fees from English accounts can range from £10 - £30. Meanwhile, it costs to make basic withdrawals, so more often than not with an English account to avoid extra outlay it’s necessary to withdraw large amounts in one go – not the most secure process in the world. Furthermore, a French account is essential to claim the CAF.

Whilst opening a bank account can be done in a morning, getting the card can take a long time, and the CAF is an even longer process to sort out (some friends four weeks on are still getting letters demanding more paperwork). There are also as yet unconfirmed ruminations that the CAF is not back-payable, or paid for part-months. So it’s really important that you get on with organising these things as soon as possible to save the maximum amount of money.

A further recommendation in terms of banking is opening an account with someone like Metro Bank, a relatively new bank in England. Whilst online transfers to foreign accounts will still cost upwards of £17, there are no charges on foreign transactions, which means that you don’t pay to put money into your account from another British account, and you don’t pay to withdraw it abroad – and that applies worldwide.

A bank account and the CAF are arguably the most stressful bits of non-uni admin to organise, but another drain on the finances is public transport. Montpellier, for example, is served by a good tram network but it can be expensive. It’s best to investigate TAM (Transport Agglomeration Montpellier), which has monthly student passes for €33 or a yearly one for €240. It’s also possible to rent a bike for the year for €33. Miraculously, getting the tram pass only requires one form to be filled out, a form of I.D., and a passport photo. Of course, there’s always a downside, and in this case it’s the huge queue – it can often be a five-hour wait at peak times, as every student new to Montpellier tries to organise cheap transport for the year. It quietens down at about 5 pm, so that’s the time to go – unless you’re happy to turn up at 7 am.

The last key thing to sort out on arrival is a French phone. This is probably the easiest process – an Erasmus student can always be picked out in a crowd due to the fact that everyone goes into Phone House (yes, the Carphone Warehouse) and gets the same €30 Samsung phone, on the same pay-as-you-go SIM card. It’s the kind of flip-screen phone that everyone got excited about when we were 13 years old and had only ever seen brick-sized Nokias. However, it’s easily sorted out and means that you can be in contact with all your new friends - cheaply. And best of all, there’s no paperwork, which has to be a first.

So it’s all a lot to sort out, and usually takes up your first few lesson-free days, but the sooner it’s organised, the cheaper and easier your time here gets. You may just have to put any environmental ethics aside for a while first.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Dear Bank/University/Mum, I’m writing about my change of address...

I’m slightly nervous about this instalment, because, as with everything so far, finding accommodation hasn’t been a bed of roses. However, to those starting their year abroad preparation now, fear not – it’s not as hard as it seems, and for everyone I know, it’s worked out pretty well.

There are various possibilities when moving abroad as a student. The most obvious is applying for university halls. There’s a lot of competition for these rooms, but, at least in the case of Montpellier’s universities, it was organised early - the application form came with the other enrolment documents, and we were informed if we had a place or not by the end of June. An application is therefore certainly worthwhile – if you get a halls room, the task of finding accommodation can be ticked off, and if not, you have the whole summer to find somewhere else. Usefully, the university also sent plenty of helpful web addresses for accommodation to people who hadn’t got halls places.

Another important fact to note with university halls is that they won’t necessarily let you know if they have spare rooms – two friends emailed them at the end of August to say they had nowhere to live and were immediately found rooms. This isn’t something to bank on, but it’s definitely worth a try if you think you’re still going to be living out of a suitcase in a hostel come the start of term.

Many people also apply for private halls, such as Les Academiades de Montpellier and Les Estudines. Although they are slightly more expensive than university rooms, they tend to be centrally located and have good facilities, including a small private kitchen area and private bathroom. The only slight downside to these halls is that an Ikea trip is essential for everything from bedding to kitchenware, which can get expensive if you’re only going to be there for one semester. On that note, I’m reliably informed that a useful website to know is wedelivertheworld.com – a worldwide shipping agency, which transports your stuff to and from wherever you are based abroad for relatively low prices (a huge bonus to girls with lots of shoes and anyone who’s bought pots and pans for a four-month period). Always worth knowing, as airline fees for extra luggage are extortionate, especially if paid for at the airport.

The final accommodation alternative is a colocation, in other words living with a family or other students, which is what I’ve done. It’s a common way of finding accommodation for students abroad, as it’s usually relatively cheap and guarantees that you’ll be speaking the language to others in the house.

There are plenty of good websites for finding a colocation, the most popular for France being appartager.com and accueilenfamille.com, both of which I’ve used. These websites give you the opportunity to specify your exact needs and then offer the best possible matches to your profile.

Of course, it’s important to arrange accommodation like this safely.  I decided to live with another UCL student, which made the whole process more manageable and less terrifying, and also gave us safety in numbers. We started looking in July, which is just about ideal - by August, especially in student cities such as Montpellier, competition for rooms is immense. Even in July, I arranged four viewings, and by the time I arrived in Montpellier, a week later, three of the rooms were taken.

If you’re moving into a private house, viewings are essential (especially if you’re asked for a deposit). You need to ensure that you’re living with relatively normal people, and that the house is secure and in a safe area. It’s also a good chance to verify in person things like what your rent covers, local amenities and transport, if you need to bring anything (bedding, cookware etc) with you, how rent is paid etc. These may all seem like basic things, but in a town where buses stop at 8.30 pm, you don’t want to find on arrival that you either can’t socialise in the evenings or you have an hour’s walk home through a dubious area. 

Also, to reiterate a message given out on the websites: don’t pay any deposit without seeing the place (just in case it doesn’t exist...) and without some form of receipt and contract.

Of course, these measures don’t guarantee success...We congratulated ourselves on sorting out rooms with a family, under a four-month contract, by August. Two weeks after moving into our house in September, we were told that actually, we’d have to leave on 1st October. Apparently our family hadn’t foreseen the potential problems of combining two student lodgers (one of whom would live in the converted attic, with a VERY creaky floor) with having a toddler aged three and a baby of two months.

This was obviously an awkward situation, exacerbated by the mother of the family, who – either through awkwardness or a desire to ensure we left quickly (and without an argument about their breach of contract!) – stopped speaking to us, and instead communicated with us via post-it note. It was surreal to say the least – the first day there were no fewer than 10 notes dotted around ranging from “clean!”, with an arrow pointing to a mark on the sink, which neither myself nor my housemate had made, to (I quote) “take your hairs out of the shower or the pipes will get blocked up with shit”.

Luckily, they put us in touch with Accueil en Famille, who found us somewhere else to look at straight away, which was not only fine, but perfect – cheaper, closer to university and our friends, with a much more sociable and welcoming family, and with a private pool. There must be a catch with it somewhere, but so far (with fingers duly crossed and touching wood) we’ve yet to find it.

Unsurprisingly, as soon as we announced we’d found somewhere new, the post-it orders stopped.

Obviously this is a very rare scenario. Everyone else I know has settled in well immediately at their houses, and we’ve now settled in well here. If a family or group of students are looking to rent a room to a foreign student, chances are they’re going to be welcoming and understanding – and it’s a brilliant way to meet people and ensure that you’re speaking French at least once a day in one capacity or another.

From the point of view of ease, I’d hoped to get a university room, but actually I’m happy about the way living with a family has worked out (in the end). I think it really is worthwhile. Maybe just avoid families with tiny babies, for their sake and yours.

Monday, October 3, 2011

How to make friends and NOT alienate people

Sitting by the pool of my house in the south of France, it feels ridiculous to say that at points September hasn’t been the best month ever of my life. It’s been a long journey to reach this year for me, and there’s no denying there have been times I’ve asked myself if it’s all going to be worth it.

Moving away from home is hard at the best of times, especially relocating to a different country. My experience was made all the harder by the fact that my boyfriend – a relatively long-term one, for a 22 year old – split up with me completely out of the blue. Two days before I was due to leave the country. With his family. We were going on holiday in Carcassonne, and then his dad would drive me on to Montpellier. A week before the most important and most terrifying year of my degree started, I suddenly was not only dealing with a shock break-up, but also had no way of getting to France.

This is the point when you realise the importance of friends and family – one best friend watched Lord of the Rings and ate pizza with me for an evening, the other came the next day, brought me wine and packed everything for me. My dad appeared in London within hours and took me to my sister’s house. My sister put me up for the extra week, booked my flights and generally pep-talked me into not giving up. In short, everyone was brilliant.

On the other hand, I didn’t really have much time to feel sorry for myself, as I had one week to move house, sort flights out and generally pack and repack until I only had exactly what I needed (even then it cost me an extra £40 of luggage weight...). So it wasn’t until I actually arrived in Montpellier that I had time to sit and think everything through. Of course at that point, all helpful friends and family were all back in England.

Skype is of course a godsend, but it’s not a solution. Logically I couldn’t hope to spend four months abroad relying on people at home to get me through.  The two most important things to fend off the homesickness are undeniably making friends and keeping busy, which usually go hand-in-hand.

So I did what all students and teenagers of my generation do: I turned to Facebook. Very helpfully, UCL had sent everyone the same list of study abroad placements, so I simply found out through that who would be in Montpellier this term, added several complete strangers as friends, and made a group. That meant that the nine of us from UCL all had an immediate social base of people with whom we could guarantee we had a few common interests.

The other really important thing that helped me was making sure I was in touch with what was going on with all the Erasmus events. Any drinks parties, pub quizzes, picnics...I was there. It was exhausting. But it was brilliant, because everyone is feeling exactly the same – far from home, nervous about making friends and settling in, and so everyone turns up, open-minded and ready to meet people. Not only that, but everyone hails from so many different countries that French is often the common language – so you have to speak it!

A particularly good idea on the part of Montpellier’s Erasmus social team was the picnic and city tour. Like we’d just started primary school, we sat in a circle and said our name and age, and where we came from, and the ice was broken. I went from chatting quietly to two other UCL-ers to inviting Germans to my birthday party the following week, talking football with an Argentinean and making arrangements for drinks with a Polish girl. On the tour, we then met more English girls, who are now among my best friends here. And this all while getting to know our way really well around the city that is our temporary home.

At risk of sounding whiney and pathetic, but also to reassure, I’d say that my experience of coming abroad started on a worse foot than that of many people I’ve met. But really, everyone is in the same boat. I know people whose other halves are having second thoughts now they’ve arrived here. And many people in completely solid long-distance relationships who are, unsurprisingly, finding the separation very difficult. The majority of people have never been this far from their family for this length of time. Homesickness and relationship problems are natural in a situation like this, and it isn’t something to be embarrassed about.

But everyone also finds the same thing: it happens when you’re tired, or hormonal, or when you have nothing organised for the evening or weekend. The best thing to do is prepare yourself for the fact that this will happen, and be ready for it. There’s always going to be the odd evening where you can’t do things or see people – so that’s when you go online and find the rubbishy British TV you miss (or, if you have one, turn the TV on...today’s picks include Walker: Texas Ranger, episodes of Fort Boyard, and Bad Boys II, so I feel really at home).

Otherwise call people, and go shopping, for coffee, to the park, to dinner, for drinks, to the cinema...there’s an endless list of things to do, and you can guarantee that of the many people you’ll get to know within days of arrival, there’ll be at least one person feeling the same as you who will also want to get out of the house and do something.

I’ve spent a month doing this, and have some amazing friends here – I rarely feel lonely. Although I’m usually fairly sociable anyway, I have to be grateful for the fact that the break-up has forced me make the most of my time, and get really into the whole experience. I was hit today by the fact that I only have ten weeks left here. It’s not a long time, and nobody should stop you from getting as much as you possibly can out of it – especially yourself.

I almost didn’t come out at all; I was terrified of how I’d cope. And there have been times I’ve wanted to jump on a plane home. But I’ve been strict with myself, and stuck at it thus far. And that’s why I’ve just pulled myself out of my home’s swimming pool in 30-degree heat before going for drinks with my friends. So for all the times I’ve asked myself if it’s all going to be worth it, the answer is still a resounding yes.