Bitter-sweet

Lately, I’ve been reading about the first followers of Jesus. You can learn about them in the book of Acts, towards the end of the bible.

This is a period that I often see as the honeymoon period of Christianity. I’ve formed that view from passages like this:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.
(Acts, end of chapter 2)

Imagine living at that time. Wouldn't it be great? Imagine that sense of community. Imagine having such focus and devotion.

As I re-read Acts again, I've realised my error. In between the miracles I discover discontent. I now remember that the early church experienced harassment. Several of their leaders and friends were even executed for speaking about Jesus.

That must have been an incredible contrast for those Christians - to remember the great healings you've seen God perform while you’re terrified and living in fear of your life.

Perhaps that’s a more realistic view of the Christian life. We follow a king whose great act was death.  We serve a God who refuses to prioritise our comfort. We are surrounded by sorrow and hope, by failure and grace.

The road back

Today it ends. I feel rather uncomfortable about this.

My old food habits seem absurd. An average week was peppered with chocolate, cake and cake - items now exposed as expensive luxuries.

I’ve learnt that I was hooked on sugar and caffeine. In some way that mocks me.

It seems foolhardy to switch back, to pick up everything that was discarded. Yet I fear I lack the self-restraint to do otherwise.

This is a rather a bitter-sweet finish to a week rich with adventure and generosity.

Some memorable moments:

• The first taste of pasta sauce after a day of bland food.
• The discovery of custard creams for 1p a biscuit
• Ransacking the local petrol station for something cheaper than 35p. 
• Learning to poach an egg. And saving 5p on oil in the process.

Thank you for your interest and support. People around the world are suffering and dying because they lack the funds to feed themselves. Your generosity has made a difference there. You should be proud.

Day 5

The final day of the challenge. I've succeeded - the total for today is £1.

Breakfast

Porridge - 6p

Lunch

Egg friend rice and veg - 61p

Dinner

Toast (no butter) - 24p
2 custard creams - 2p

Snacks

½ carrot - 6p
1 custard cream - 1p

Drinks

Hot water - 0p
Cold water - 0p

Status

Muscle ache is everywhere. Concentration problems..

Why am I doing this? Let me explain.

New flavours

Here are a few of my favourite flavours:

• Parmesan cheese
• Bacon
• French mustard
• Stilton
• Fresh Coffee
• Chorizo

I like flavours that grab your attention and linger in the memory.

It turns out that flavour is expensive. When you live on £1 a day, as one-sixth of the world do, items as mundane as salt and pepper are off the menu.

As I look back over the past 5 days, a few items had a discernible tang. Here they are:

• Co-op pasta sauce 

That’s it.

I’d love for more. But, in the quest for fuel, flavour is forgotten.


--
For 5 days I’m living on £1 a day in support of the poorest people on the planet. Please sponsor me

Day 4

I spent 96p of food and drink today

Breakfast

Baked beans (shudders...) - 12p
Toast (no butter) - 12p
1/2 banana - 6p

Lunch

Porridge - 6p

Dinner

Tomato pasta sauce - 15p
Pasta - 7p

Snacks

3 custard creams - 3p
Curlywurly - 35p*

Drinks

Hot water - 0p

Cold water - 0p

Status

Fatigue. Distraction. Aching legs.

Why am I doing this? Let me explain.

*Officially the second-cheapest item sold by the local M&S garage.

Time-poor

It’s surprising how time-consuming it is to be poor. Some of the most convenient foods are too expensive.

I’m not talking about Waitrose ready meals. Rather, consider the humble sandwich. A sandwich is convenient, isn’t it? You can prepare it at home, take it to work, and eat it in a jiffy.

A sandwich, however, has hidden costs. I like a ham and mustard (french, or dijon, preferred) sandwich. Here’s how that would add up using my rules for the Below The Line Challenge:

• Bread - 12p
• Ham - 20p (based on Sainsbury's Essential Ham spread over 3 lunches)
• Butter - 20p 
• Mustard - 13p (based on Sainsbury's Dark French Mustard spread over 3 lunches)

That’s 65p for a sandwich. Two-thirds of my daily budget spent on a sandwich [whistles softly]. So, I’ve chosen beans on toast (24p) or egg on toast (26p). These cheaper options involve rather more time in preparation and clean-up.

Can you see a snag? My office has neglected to fit a hob in the kitchen. Or a toaster. The tinkers. So, in a stroke of creative brilliance, I’ve moved lunch to breakfast and breakfast to lunch. I should be on The Apprentice.

Spare a thought for people like Nakasirye, a thirteen-year-old living in Uganda. Every day she walks an hour each day to collect water. Water from a dirty well that makes her ill. You can help people like her by sponsoring me. Every pound helps. Sponsor James.

Day 3

Ladies and gentleman, I'm pleased to report that £1 was spent on foodstuffs today.

Breakfast

Poached egg - 12p
Toast (no butter) - 12p

Lunch

Porridge - 6p
2 custard creams - 2p

Dinner

Egg friend rice and veg - 57p
2 custard creams - 2p

Snacks

½ Banana - 6p
1 custard cream - 1p

Drinks

Hot water - 0p

Cold water - 0p

Status

Headache gone. Significant hunger this afternoon.

Why am I doing this? Let me explain.

Picking up the pieces

The hum of the microwave is disturbed by a muffled pop. Uh oh. I spring the door and am greeted by an eruption of porridge.

Panic. What will I eat? It’s a long time until dinner.

My colleague continues her half of the conversation. She’s oblivious to my stress.

I pick up the dish. Ouch. It’s still hot. I put it down.

I dart across the kitchen for paper towel. I wrap my hands and gingerly lift the dish from the microwave. Give it a stir. The porridge is glue-like.

I assess my options. My last food was 6 hours ago. Nothing but water lies between now and dinner at 8pm.

When you’re living at this level mistakes mean more. If you burn the toast, undercook the pasta, or misjudge the egg, there’s no backup. You can’t pop out for a takeaway or find an alternative in the freezer.

Would you sponsor me? Every pound matters, and is matched by the Government. Money raised goes to Action Aid and is used to help poor people around the the world. Go here.

Day 2

Today I spent... 95p on food and drink.

Breakfast

Baked beans - 12p
Toast (no butter) - 12p

Lunch

Porridge - 6p
½ banana - 10p*

Dinner

Tomato Pasta sauce - 22p
Pasta - 7p
Poached egg - 13p
Toast - 0p (covered by money from breakfast)

Snacks

½ Banana - 10p*
Custard creams - 3p

Status

Some fatigue at various points. Headache continues.

*Regular followers will note that bananas have risen in price. Curses.

Why am I doing this? Let me explain.

Day 1 Report

The figures are in from day 1.

Breakfast

1 Fried egg - 14p

Toast (no butter) - 12p

Lunch

Porridge - 6p

Dinner

Pasta - 7p

Tomato Pasta Sauce - 22p (might drop to 15p if I decide to use this 3 times this week)

Snacks

None

Drinks

Cold water

Hot water

Total

Total for the day = 61p

Status

Constant mild headache

Ten things I won’t be eating this week

It all begins tomorrow: a week of living on £1 a day. It’s clear that some shopping basket regulars will be absent this week:

• Meat
• Cheese
• Coffee
• Cake
• Chocolate
• Celery
• Milk
• Yoghurt
• Butter (or margarine)
• Cereal

There’s nothing to enjoy about living like this.

Would you sponsor me? Your money gets doubled by the UK Government and is used carefully to help the poorest on the planet. Make a difference

Off the scale

The point of Live Below The Line is to empathise with, and support, people in the poorest countries on earth. Of course, the UK is clearly not one of the poorest countries on earth.

This is abundantly clear to me as I plan my meals for next week. You see, the food in the shops is packaged to match our relative riches. Rice, for example, is only available in the local supermarkets in 1kg bags. I imagine that in poorer countries, where the population has less money, smaller portions are more readily available.

If I have to buy 1 kg of rice, in order to get 300g, the challenge acquires a whole new level of difficulty. I’ve been musing on this and have formulated some rules keep the spirit of the challenge.

When I shop for groceries I buy large amounts of food to be consumed over several weeks. I’m sure you do the same. It’s a better use of time and money, isn’t it? I would follow the same regardless of the budget that constrained me.

However, this ability to bulk buy is constrained by cashflow. You have to earn enough to buy a month’s worth of a particular item. You also need to have the ability to store what you’ve bought. For example, we regularly freeze bread. But in the poorer parts of the world would the electricity supply be reliable enough to run a freezer?

Part of this approach to shopping is driven by the monthly pace of my pay. In other jobs, or other parts of the world, pay may arrive weekly or daily. It may arrive in an adhoc fashion as items are sold to buyers. So, it’s within the spirit of the challenge to place some boundaries on bulk buying.

1. I can’t freeze food in order to make it last longer. For example, any bread I buy can’t have the cost spread over multiple weeks, as it’ll go stale.
2. For items that are measured in teaspoons or tablespoons, I can spread the cost over many weeks. For example, I can use oil at a rate of 5p for 1 tablespoon with no need to buy larger amounts.
3. For items that are measured in larger amounts I can spread the cost over two weeks. So I can buy 1kg of rice for 40p, and use 500g this week at a cost of 20p.
4. I can only spread the cost of items that will keep for two weeks. Once I’ve opened a tin then I’ll have to use it within the week, so the cost can’t be spread.

Let buying commence.

Carrot and, er, banana

Carrots and bananas. Unusual bedfellows, I’m sure you’ll agree. But united by one key attribute: value for money.

Earlier this month, I inspected the fruit and veg options that are feasible during my challenge. It transpires that celery is a luxury. And apples are mostly beyond my reach.

Image: Nicholas Noyes

The cheapest option that Sainsbury’s had to offer was a carrot for 7p. I can spend a penny more and upgrade to a (Fairtrade) banana. Living the dream, my friends, living the dream.

I appreciate that 5 pieces of fruit and veg a day is a health target beyond the reach of many of the poorer countries in the world. But this my weekly plan needs to be a relatively sustainable to be in the spirit of the challenge. I don’t want to get scurvy, do I?

Carrots and bananas it is then. Maybe both in a day for a treat.

At the end of April I’m attempting to survive on £1 a day for food and drink for 5 days. Would you sponsor me? Every pound is gratefully received. Go here: sponsor James

Food for thought

How much do you spend on food and drink in a day? £5? £10? £20?

At the end of April, in a fit of reckless folly, I’m going to try and spend only £1 a day, for five days. Would you sponsor me? Every pound is gratefully received.

Photo: William Warby

Why am I doing this? To understand more about living in extreme poverty, as one sixth of the world’s population do. And to raise money to help them with Action Aid.

Stay tuned as I eschew pizza, calculate the cost of cake and bemoan the price of apples (28p in Waitrose, as you ask). Sponsor me? Please. Go here: sponsor James.