Freelance News Service

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On the streets of Europe, below the glass towers of bankers and bureaucrats, the Euro has brought a spark of life to previously mundane transactions. Over the past ten days, as use of the Euro gained momentum, the people who jangle the shiny new coins in their pockets and count them back as change worked through the practical implementation of a whole new suite of money.

First, shoppers could buy Euros, but not spend them. In Germany it was possible to buy "starter kits," from banks in mid-December but stores wouldn’t accept them until January 1, 2002. At a cost of 20 Deutsch Marks for 10.23 Euros --an exchange rate of 1 Euro for 1.955 DM--the cellophane bags of coins marked "Bundesrepublik Deutschland" were snapped up. By December 23 the starter kits had sold out and were showing up for auction on eBay.

When the midnight rockets went up on New Year’s Eve, a major bank was exchanging Euros from a temporary two-story office building erected at Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, where 600,000 people were celebrating New Year’s Eve. A few hours later, shopkeepers in 12 countries undertook the trying task of sorting out payment in either Euros or native specie, but returning change in Euros only. In Germany, as shoppers spent off their last DM, cashiers set their jaws and ploughed through the extra calculations, as they will continue to do through February, though presumably the volume of two-currency transactions will drop.

Thorough German merchants had begun pricing items in DM (universally referred to as "D-mark," pronounced ‘dey‘ mark’) and Euro for months preceding the changeover. Since the exchange rate is almost two DM to every one Euro, buyers and sellers alike could rough out transactions with a fair degree of confidence. Naturally, governments have encouraged folks to empty their change bottles to accelerate the exchange process. One snowy night, in return for beer and pizza in the Bavarian college town of Erlangen, a former emergency hoard of small change was raked in and pocketed uncounted by a resigned waitress. In the bright light of day the coin-counting machines at a near-by bank branch rattled furiously as locals hauled in tea tins full of the dark old 10 and 50 pfennig pieces and took away crisp novel Euros.

At mid-day January 2, the first real day of business, the scene at a big bookstore on Friedrichstrasse in Berlin, a ritzy shopping area, was typical. A tense cashier stood at the cash register ringing up each sale in DM, while a watchful manager stood by assisting with a handheld calculator. A modest line of customers patiently watched the fun.

The cashier would punch in the cost of a purchase in DM while the manager figured out the equivalent in Euros. Then both would look at the customer to see which currency was proffered. If DM, the cashier stuffed the bills in the drawer and in a low voice read out the change amount to the manager, who converted it and quietly told the cashier how many Euro-and-cents to dispense.

If the transaction was in Euros it went a little quicker, but the cashier labored over his till and the manager stared hard at the glittering change, as if expecting an alchemic trick of some sort. Customers closed the unfamiliar money in their fists and walked away, counting coins or not, depending on personality, just as foreigners do when faced with different lucre.

Two days later, the same manager and cashier were engaged at the same register in exactly the same process, though both looked considerably more relaxed. Customers at chain stores seemed to have the least trouble. Anson’s, an upscale men’s clothing chain, has had displays marked in both Euro and DM for over a year. A purchase in the Nuremberg store on Karolinenstrasse was no different in Euros this year than it was last year in DM. A corner convenience store in Weiherhof, well outside Nuremberg, had a cash register display that showed both Euros and DM. A taxi cab meter still ticked off DM, but the jocular cab driver stabbed at a calculator in the dark and accepted half the amount on the meter in Euros.

Transactions affected ranged from the sophisticated to the hilarious. On the third day of the Euro, after dinner at Manzini's in the Kurfuerstendamm (Ku’damm) shopping district in Berlin, a group of family and friends split up the bill, some paying with DM, some with Euros. As there were three couples, the initial calculations were to sort out who had ordered what and how much each couple owed in Euro (menu updated!), then cross-check to make sure the tab was covered.

In the end, the first couple paid in DM. The second couple tried to take the safe path and pay in Euros but was blindsided by the third couple suddenly offering to exchange their last 40 DM for 20 of the second couple’s abundant Euros, as the former wanted to get rid of DM and the latter sought a few as souvenirs. The restaurant was willing to accept mixed payment and somehow it all came out right (thank goodness for the one who always does the math!). The meal was delicious, by the way, really outstanding, and cost less than $25 per head, with bread, olive plates and five half-carafes of wine, coffee sodas and bottled water.

On the ludicrous end of the spectrum, an ancient and un-modified coin-operated scale in a Berlin S-bahn station responded to the Euro 10 cent piece in place of a 10 pfennig coin, but in retaliation, the scale seemed to register a trifle high. A suspicion the machines would take any coin was dispelled when one machine ate the 1-cent Euro piece, returning neither weight nor refund.

It was to be expected that banks, big stores and savvy merchants would adapt to the change for practical purposes, but it became obvious how easy the transition would be when by day four, panhandlers began hawking their newspapers in Euros

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