Did you know...

...that if you are American (dual citizens have a slightly different option) and have a Partita Iva in Italy you are supposed to pay into the AMERICAN Social Security system and NOT INPS for your retirement??!

No??

Hey, me neither. But there is this agreement here from 1978!! You want the Italian version for your Commercialista? Here you go.  Here is an overview of the agreement in detail, but in English. 

I will walk you through the process as I do it. This should be fun!!

More to come.

Speaking Foreign Languages has NOT Made me Smarter

I was just reading an article about how bilingualism makes you smarter (I love those kinds of articles, by the way), and I was just about to feel very smug and intelligent when I remembered what I did yesterday.

I was at the IKEA at Villesse and we were about to leave when little Sweetie and I decided to go to the bathroom before we got into the car for the ride back to Trieste. We are trying to cement in the habit of going even if we don't "have" to, because the urge usually hits us as soon as we get in the car and have missed our chance.

So, we went into the FAMILY BATHROOM. A very sweet idea. Two toidies together. Little toilet for Little Sweetie, Big Toilet for Big Mamma.

Only one problem. No hooks for the purse, no changing table or similar to put the purse, what is one to do?

Easy. Put your purse into the Little Sink for Little Sweetie, which is just next to the Big Sink for Big Mamma.

Yes, GREAT IDEA, especially since it is an Automatic Sink that turns on whenever anything (which should actually be your HAND) blocks that little dark circle that activates the torrent of water.

For the full effect, don't notice it right away. That way you fill up your purse.

Waterlog your electronic devices.

Dump out your purse, swear like a sailor, yell at your kid for mocking you and repeating those terrible words you are allowed to say but She is Not.

Curse IKEA for being so darn green you can't even find a paper towel to throw on the floor to prevent an accident for the very next family to use this amazing facility.

Yes, do that. Hold your extra battery's plug hole close to the vent (which you put on high) in the car. Pray you have half a bag of basmati rice left in your cupboard to put your phone in when you get home, look forward to that 48 hour wait to see if it will work again, blow dry your journal, hang your permesso di soggiorno up to drip dry and have an Excellent Day!

Italy Vs USA: The Banking Edition

Americans believe:

I will make MORE MONEY NEXT YEAR. I can spend NOW.

Italians believe:

I may NEVER MAKE MONEY AGAIN. I'd better save today.

American banks and Italian banks also think differently, especially when it comes to credit. American banks love to give it. Italians do not. The average American has a walletful of cards to choose from. Italians, not so much. Banks stateside and here on the old continent differ on Customer Experience as well (Disclaimer: the thoughts, opinions and declarations of this blog are purely personal and not meant to reflect the thoughts, ideas and/or opinions of all ex-pats living in Trieste, although they often do...) Americans care about it, Italians don't.

I was in my large, unfriendly Italian bank a few weeks ago gathering information on my very expensive credit card (1) and debit card (1) to make sure I could use them internationally and find out how much they would hose me for getting cash abroad.

Here is why I hate my bank (and the hospital and schools and public offices and basically all other Italian Institutions): NO RECEPTION DESK. You walk in and it's like entering a wild jungle. No clue where to go, who to talk to, everyone is pretending they're busy.

The only thing I understand at my bank is what the ATM does.

Finally, a lady came out of one of those private, off-limits offices peppered around the perifery and I walked in (I am probably not supposed to but there are no signs telling me what to do and I pounce on the opaque). I asked the kind (and obviously important) person who I should talk to. Oddly,  he said HE was the one (miracle!). He was even nice. Most people who work in these places are, once you get their attention, and that is the hardest part. He printed up all of the information I requested. When he felt like he had satisfied my every banking desire, he changed the subject and raised his tone of voice to communicate EXCITEMENT about a NOVITA'!

Actually, he was required to get my signature on an18-thousand-page document explaining the change in conditions on my credit card. This was pre-empted with a sales pitch:

"STARTING NOW, YOU CAN ROLL OVER  YOUR BALANCE ON YOUR CREDIT CARD AND PAY IT OFF IN 3, 6, OR 12 MONTHS WITH A LITTLE BIT OF INTEREST!!!"

Excuse me? This is the news? Isn't that why we call them CREDIT cards?*

So, let me get this straight. The ONLY advantage of my having a credit card up to now was that I could wait a month to pay rather than have my purchases (which I can afford because I don't spend money) come out of my account immediately with my debit card?

And I am paying 40+ euros per year for that?!

This bank (all Italian banks) is on the brink of collapse. I think about how much I pay in fees (started out as a free account but that change was another 18-page document to sign) for my account and products that are redundant. And to make things worse, I have to practically break into someone's office to get anyone's attention!

But I get like this every time I come back from the States. Forgive me.

I went back to Wisconsin last week. What struck me was this: it didn't matter where I went-- people were Deeply Concerned about my finding everything I wanted to find. It was a little much at times, but, I also had the feeling that even my lamest whim would be treated with Absolute Urgency.

My mom's bank is comfortable and inviting like a friend's living room. It has puffy chairs for when you have to wait (but you never do) and a machine with free (and good) coffee.

I mean, is it really so hard? Note to Big Unfriendly Italian Bank on the Brink of Collapse: let's work on our communication skills, shall we? And while we are at it, let's sharpen our long-term vision rather than short-term gain.

I am taking my business online, I decided, once I pay the fees to close my bank account (yes, it costs you money to close!!). The service is basically the same, but at least the webpage gives you clear and transparent information.

So there!!

*I pay my balance off every month because I learned good credit card habits when I worked at Bank One in the credit card department in college (my worst nightmares include a headset and a ringing phone that I have to answer like this: "Bankcard Customer Service, This is Karoline. Bankcard Customer Service, this is Karoline..."). Want a cure for the shopaholic blues? Work with credit cards.

It's Time for the PROVA(s) Everyone!

September marks the beginning of a new academic year for those who teach, and those who study, not to mention the handlers  parents of the latter. To celebrate, I thought we could have a moment to contemplate the wonders of CHOOSING AN AFTER-SCHOOL ACTIVITY to keep the kids out of our hair a couple of hours a week help our little sweeties grow and become conscientious, strong, independent Team Players.

Here is what you need to know.

Age 3-5: You have Ultimate Control. You know exactly what you are doing, because You are the Mom/Dad and You. Know. Best. 

Activities at this age are both Athletic Opportunities moments for socialisation and certain Success in Later Life Positive Experiences. Choose Wisely. In fact, this is your Last Chance to give your babies that oh-so-important  competitive edge  Sfogo that only Learning through Play can provide. It will also ensure they will Not go to State School like you did prepare them for a rich and varied cultural life. There is Music class, English time, etc. I mean, come on! Everyone knows that soon the window will be closing on your child becoming properly imprinted for Physical and Mentally Superbness.

I and 98% of Triestine parents suggest swimming. Make sure you choose a pool the babysitter and/or Nonni can get to without complaining too much. The first two lessons are free. Your kid will enjoy the heck out of those and in some pools you can even watch your little seahorse and dream of Olympic grandeur at the same time! Lesson Three, when you have paid for an entire year in order to get a 5 euro discount, your kid will cry and carry on and you will hate yourself for the next three months until you become desensitised and hand over that screaming banshee without even batting an eye. Their problem now.

"See you in 45 minutes, Sweetie!!"

Age 6: You know what you want but all the other girls are doing Gymnastics (and the boys are doing Calcio)! You are powerless against the Triestine Forces of Conformity.

Social pressure becomes nearly unbearable when kids get to elementary school. This is when parents understand the Truth. We are not as all-powerful as we once thought. While we still control the pocket-book, we desperately want our children to love us, and this becomes increasingly difficult in the Triestine context unless you submit to the idea that:

"Children should be Happy" in their after-school activities,

and

"Children should not have too many activities so that they have time to play and be kids."

No more asserting your Will on the wee-ones without coming under direct scrutiny by your Triestine husband, the Triestine Nonnis, and the Triestine community at large. Find refuge with the other ex-pats who believe neither of those statements to be true as long as you have a Long-Term VISION for your child's future (which, of course, you DO).

However, this is a battle you cannot win.

You may have liked the Pool after two years of getting used to the routine, the ego-strokes of having your kid convocato to participate in competitions (which start at age 4 if your child is particularly *ahem*  aquatic or has that certain, shall we say, aquacità), but it is about to End. 

She is done with the Pool. Hates it. Can't stand it. Too many laps. Too Boooooring. 

To prove her point, she has spent the entire summer perfecting her cartwheels hundreds of times per day and doing handstands against her bedroom door just like her gymnastics-going friends showed her... and, while you HATE HATE HATE the idea of change when you KNOW all Great Athletes (not that this is important) started Very Young, you have to admit:

There may be some Potential here... 

But. Where? Welcome to the mid-September Triestine parent rat-race! It is the season of the PROVA. Like at the swimming pool, there are two free lessons for your kids to Love before you plunk down the cash and they begin to hate it but you no longer care.

So, you start asking around because Everyone has an opinion about where you should take your kids to gymnastics. Basically you have to ask yourself these questions.

1. Do you want to create a champion?
2. Do you want something close to home?
3. Prefer something in Slovene?
4. Want something that is Not Quite the Best?
5. Is it important for your gym to be financially secure?

For any question that has particular meaning to you, there is a gym that is right for you. If you want to save time, however, just find out where her friends are planning on doing the Prova and piggy-back along with them.

The kids will fall in love with the same place, anyway (so you could skip the prova in theory, but that is pretty courageous), so that's one headache less. Actual lessons will begin in October. It will be a twice-a-week commitment until school gets out. It will be at the worst time ever for your schedule, but at least you can carpool.

It is no longer about your hopes and dreams (which are crushed by now anyway) but rather what her friends are doing and logistics.

And, in the end, that is okay, too.

100% Chance of School this Week

This means: do not try to get anything done at any kind of office at all this week, because there will be no one there to help you. This is not the bank's fault, or any other institution suffering from lower than usual numbers this week.

Pre-School:
These parents are not there because they are suffering from the dreaded INSERIMENTO period where they  leave their children crying and screaming and desperately reaching for them for one hour one day, then two hours the next day, and so on until they reach their final destination: the full half day (after lunch) or the full full day (after lunch and snack). Once this is achieved these parents can officially begin the rest of their lives.

Elementary School:
No one told them but parents are supposed to be PRESENT for the first hour or so of school to get information from the teachers they probably missed at the meeting scheduled for an equally inconvenient time this summer. Then there is the mandatory coffee break with the other parents to catch up on the gossip of the summer, discuss the difficulty of finding the right notebooks and melt-downs over proper backpack designs.

Middle School:
Ditto on the school meeting. No one knew. But besides that, there is the problem of the HALF DAY of school rather than the FULL DAY of elementary. These parents have to figure out what the hell to do with their kids after lunch. Some of the challenging questions include: Is my kid Small or Big? If I let her go home alone will the cops bust me for child abandonment? Am I supposed to support her while she does her homework or can I just go back to work?

High School:
These parents are the ones holding down the fort for their colleagues at work during the first week of school. Meetings are not an issue until after report cards come out and teachers meet with them to discuss their so grown up but will always be your little angel's fine performance.

That is what is happening this week. So don't get frustrated. This is just part of life if you live in Trieste. No biggy.

Zero Percent Chance of Rain Today

Don't let the rain outside fool you. It will NOT rain today. It will be perfectly sunny until Thursday. Put your umbrella away, people! weather.com does not lie!

Talking Taboo: Squatters Rule

I am back in the office again after an exciting two-week visit to Thailand. One thing I notice when I go on trips to new places is the communication that goes on in the bathroom. You can learn a lot about a culture through their powder room stalls.

Trieste bathroom banter is particularly entertaining, I must say, and, much to my delight, I found that potties in Thailand did not disappoint. In fact, they were similar to what we find in Trieste.

Could it be they speak the same potty language?! It could explain the number of Italian expats smattering the place!

Here is what they have in common.

Both places have carefully placed Notes to "goers" on how exactly to use the toilet. I am yet to encounter a public restroom in Trieste that does not remind people through clever limericks that you should:

1. Aim for the center of the toilet bowl
2. Clean up if you miss.
3. Flush.

This is true even in the toilets of reputable Triestine companies whose only users are colleagues or, possibly, a few outsiders doing (ahem) jobs on the inside (like me). Some of the notes are written in clear frustration in INSISTENT CAPS and signed by "Your COURTEOUS colleagues in IT," for example.

I don't know if the boys' rooms have notes in them, though I can tell you that there is usually a message directed specifically at the SIGNORI in the women's loos on the wall just above the toilet itself saying "Can you read this? If so, you are in the WRONG bathroom. Yours is next door!"

The Thais are much more efficient in their communications, but the result is the same.

My favorite is the IMAGE reminding people not to stand up on the toilet and squat to do your business. Google that. You won't believe how many images come up.

You can have two reactions to this.

1. WTF?? As in, it Never Once in my Life occurred to me to put my feet on a toilet seat and I have seen a lot of toilet seats in my day.

This is what we normally have a tendency to do, and we have such a smug and superior tone as Westerners (Aren't we just the CRAPPIEST?!).  Now articles like these look at this as a strict THEM problem especially when it happens on Our Turf.


2. There must be something more to this. Remember that etiquette rules are a little window into that culture (think of George Washington's Rules of Civility. I like number 100.)

What you learn from the picture is that the traditional toilet used there is a squat toilet, or what we Americans lovingly call a Turkish Toilet and consider "primitive." It is this idea that gets us into big trouble the moment we pull into the Stazione Centrale on that creaky train inbound from Venice desperately holding it until we can find a clean and civilized toilet.

But there are no toilets at the Station, I am sorry to report! No siree!

Instead, what we are faced with is a kind of toilet (it is porcelain, it has a hole, it has a flush) with two feet prints next to the oversized bowl as the only indicator of how to use it. In fact, were it not for those two feet, we would probably ask ourselves where the hell we are supposed to sit and require our own little picture taped to the wall, so Thank God.

What it does NOT say is what way to face to do your business. Worse, who are you supposed to ask? Listen, since we are friends, I will tell you that I have the best success (and I have tried all combinations) with facing the wall for number one and facing the door for number two. It is a question of gravity and aim. For boys, I would have to give the same advice. With the squat, men and women are truly equal.

Why the squatter, you ask? Well, in Trieste as in Thailand, it is all about hygiene. It's the whole touching something with your bare bottom that has been touched by other bare bottoms thing. Thais and Triestini just think that is a little gross.

Plus, the added benefit is that squatting is great for your thigh muscles.

Silver lining, you know?

Embrace August

I don't know if anyone else felt it, but I can say that this summer I have worked waaaaay more than I usually do in the Summer, and probably more than even most winter months.

What gives?

Is it just the craziest summer in the History of Trieste? I ask, because I used to cry in the summer because it was like Trieste became a really long, depressing, boring movie in slow motion from about June 15th on. NOTHING was happening.

Here is my theory.

I just happened to arrive in Trieste around the time of a Big Experiment. You see, in the olden days, Triestini used to go on vacation in August. That was it. Everyone. Which had its pros and its cons.

Pro. Everyone on vacation at same time.
Pro. It sucks working in August because it's too dang hot.
Pro. In the olden days people had really long vacations and that must have been nice.

Con. Traffic.
Con. Travel expensive.
Con. No chance to influence your vacation destiny.
Con. Other countries working with Italians have to deal with fact that Italians don't work in August.

Then that last point started to pick up momentum. Those countries getting frustrated with the Italians for being so stagnant in summer and blah blah blah became a big deal. And, with that, the Great Vacation Experiment was born.

All of a sudden companies, even a couple of big fatties, said people could CHOOSE when they wanted to go on vacation. Well, one week (out of your 4 or 5 delicious weeks, sigh) would have to be in August, but the others, whatevs, people!!

So the Triestini started to disappear around mid-June and, surprise surprise, you couldn't get much done.

Then there was the Mass Exodus in the two weeks sandwiching Ferragosto, which is August 15, but let's call it Labor Day, even though Labor day here is actually May 1st, but, you get the idea, it means Summer is pretty much over, even though it isn't really, so no more going Up North, which here is not actually North, but more like Croatia or Grado or Lignano. So, you couldn't get much done then either.

Then, life would begin again in September just in time for school to start.

Long story short: if you were trying to make a living in Summer, it was, like, a wasteland.

So the Big Vacation Experiment didn't last very long. This short period of time when Trieste kept offices and businesses open in August and scattering vacation around did not seem to increase productivity. Sure, offices were open, but no one was making decisions or anything, because they were too busy covering for their colleauges who were on vacation!

Which was too bad in some ways, because it was GREAT if you were the one going on vacation, but a NIGHTMARE for companies when they realized THEY were working but their suppliers and clients were not. So, that went by the wayside pretty quick, and we were back to the August vacation thing.

Flash forward. It has been a hot summer, but people have been working anyway. I mean, a lot, and well, and I am just shocked and amazed and delighted by this.

But now I am ready to go on vacation. That's it. I'm working tomorrow then I am OUTTAHERE until August 16th or so. Just in case you are looking for me.

Spritz Morbido on the beach starting Saturday.

That's what I'm talking about.

Have a Great Summer!

Put on Your Dancing Shoes

I always wondered where people dance once they have taken all of those lessons. Now I know: the SAGRA. This is the sort of outside party that the villages around Trieste take turns having to raise money for cultural events in their paese. You can go for dinner and have grilled civapcici or chicken or ribs and french fries and there is usually a great quantity of beer and wine to be had.

There is also live music and dancing. The music ranges from folky Triestine to 80s pop. The band will have at least one accordion. The senior population will ROCK OUT in front of you-- slow rocking-- but rocking all the same.

A Triestine favorite is the Line Dance. It is always the same one. It's like the Hustle with less soul. Let's say it's more like country line dancing. If you join the line, great. Try to get in the middle of the crowd so you don't end up in the front line when the group turns. They can do this one for hours and it seems to defy genre.

Watching everyone the other day, and seeing a group of small kids out on the dance floor, it reminded me of an American wedding, maybe the only time where everyone dances and nobody cares (Thank you, Booze!). And then I thought. Dang, if you know how to dance (just having the courage to try will suffice), you can always have a good time.

Your Summer Survival Kit in Trieste

Yesterday was one of those days where we had Things to Do and People to Meet. We finished our lunch date with friends and then suddenly had 3 hours before our meeting with other friends at the Sagra in Prosecco.

We, of course, had tons of things to do at home, but it never crossed our minds to go there. Nope, we are Triestini and it was Sunday. Therefore, once we got out of that place, we were out for the long haul. That is because we had our Survival Kit packed right in the car. Here is what is in it.

SUMMER SURVIVAL KIT IN TRIESTE

1. Kid. If you don't have the kid with you then it's only a matter of time before you have to do the where's-my-kid polka, and that is a time waster.

2. The dog. The beast needs watering and walks, which can both be done best when close by. Trieste allows dogs most everywhere and people don't seem to mind usually, unless the dog is a yipper. Also, there are enough crazy dog owners in Trieste that we look normal in comparison

3. The Beach Bag. This is key. We always have our beach bag packed and ready and already in the car. It contains: three swimsuits, three towels, three pairs of flip-flops, and a plastic shopping bag (for wet clothes afterwards).

When you have your kit, you never get bored! You never know when an opportunity for a Toc (that's Triestino for a dip) will present itself.

You must always be ready. With that, we killed 2.5 hours at Barcola yesterday afternoon. Had a couple of swims, got the dog in there, too. Even caught a nap. Life is good here, even in the heat.

Death Happens in Italy, too

Italians do not like to talk about death. Allow me to do it for them.

If you live here and marry into an Italian family, you can forget about estate planning. There will be no talk about your in-laws moving into a smaller apartment or a retirement community or anything like that. There will be no talk about putting things in other peoples' names to avoid problems later, nothing. This is not to say that ALL families are superstitious about death, but many are and you will just have to cross that bridge (well, let's just say you won't be crossing that bridge, or this post would not apply to you) when you get there.

If it does happen (and of course, let's hope it doesn't), there are LOTS of things to do. I found this document put out by a Union here that supports retired people. The first paragraph talks about their indecision about putting this document together and going through with it since many people are superstitious about talking about death. Incredible!

That is not even the thing that suprised me today. What did, was the fact that that Unions or a "Patronato" can actually help you complete some of the paperwork you need to do and cost less than a Notaio.

Here is an idea of what you need to do.

1. The declaration of death must be made within 24 hours.

If the death happens at home, you need to:

-Call the primary doctor, who will have to prepare an "ISTAT Certificate,"
-Get a copy of the Pathologist's Certificate (Certificazione del medico necroscopo)
-Declare the death at the office of the STATO CIVILE of the Municipality (COMUNE, behind Piazza Unità). You give them both documents plus your valid id (not a good moment to notice your i.d. has expired!)

If it happens in the hospital, they will prepare those two documents for you. Then you just go declare the death.

2. Death Certificate (Certificato di Morte): This is available in the Municipality where the death occurred as well as in the Municipality where the person was a resident. If the death happens in the same Municipality as where the person was a resident, the Death Certificate is available immediately. Otherwise you will have to wait about 10 days for the Death Municipality to communicate with the Municipality of residence.

3. Hereditary Succession. Italian Law says there are two kinds of succession and they depend on whether or not there is a Will (TESTAMENTO).

If there is NO WILL: It's called SUCCESSIONE LEGITTIMA. In this case the law determines who inherits.

If there is a WILL: It's called SUCCESSIONE TESTAMENTARIA. In this case the Will determines who inherits. Children of the deceased have their rights, though, and cannot be "cut out." They can always question the Will and will be entitled to their percentage of the patrimony. Others who can question the WILL are the spouse and any other people who normally would be in line for the throne.

Figuring out who the heirs are is NOT SIMPLE for a foreigner. Get help on this one. Ask a Union for help as it will cost less than the Notaio. There is always someone who inherits, at least up until the 6th degree of family (who gets how to figure that out? Not me.). At that point everything that is left goes directly to the State.

4. Agenzia delle Entrate. You have 12 months to make a declaration to the Tax Authorities. They will give you something called the Modello 4 which looks something like this  and you can do this without a notaio. You use this to outline who is left in the family and any buildings, homes, or land the deceased had. If you do not meet the deadlines you are liable for fines.

5. Tax Declaration. It will fall on you to do the tax declaration that year. You have to present a MODELLO UNICO. Not the 730, even if they did that one during their life. You may ask an accountant for help on this one. As always, ask the Union first. They do 730 forms. Perhaps they can also do the Modello Unico. You can also write off costs that you incurred after the death (example: healthcare costs. Get info on this!)

6. There are some other procedures for people who are not residents in Italy, so you will want some help on figuring out what. (see this document for an example)

7. Is there a PENSION involved? Get informed. Complicated complicated. If any money is due back, for example, it will not be refunded unless you ASK for it (think, tredicesima...) and they have a really long time to do it. You or your kids may have a right to the pension as well.

8. INPS (Healthcare system) is supposed to be notified automatically by the Medico Necroscopo within 48 hours of death. So that is one less thing to worry about (according to the document I am referring to).

9. Place of work. By all means, let them know. They will help you sort out the paperwork and get the ball rolling on that. Maybe they will be a support to you as well, especially if that person was a good colleague.

10. Bank. There is some paperwork to do there, of course. If there are any automatic payments going out, inform the companies to send a paper final bill because the bank freezes the account upon death. That's right. Even if you are on the account, you can't do much with it after a death until everything is sorted out (the Succession, etc)

11. Insurance. Is there any? Notify them.

12. Any loans or rental contracts? You are going to have to deal with the other parties.

13. The Car. You will have to do a Passaggio di Proprietà, even if it is in your spouse's name. It will cost you, of course.

14. Cancel the RAI contract for TV if it was in their name (the Union can help with this, too, I believe).  This is important especially if no one is left in the place of residence or it is being sold.

15. You have to notify the people who handle the WATER, ELECTRICITY, AND GAS. In Trieste it's all ACEGAS (HERA) but there are three different numbers. You have to deal with each one separately if you call. If you go in person you can do them all at once. You will have to transfer the contract into someone else's name if there is someone living there, or just close the contract if there is not. While you're doing this stuff, contact the phone company as well. All of these entities are slow, the faster you do it, the better.

This is just a start, but it could come in handy. I am no expert, but I am thinking that if I can get you thinking about it, perhaps you can come up with an action plan before you actually need it. Actually, I was inspired today by a friend who recently suffered a loss and it fell upon him to do this work. I went through something similar a couple of years ago for a distant relative who had no children, so I had some personal experience as well. We had to learn as we went along, and that is no fun when you are grieving.

May you and your loved ones LIVE FOREVER!!

Where to Go Play

There are  a lot of parks in Trieste. Some, however, are little ghost parks and remain empty most of the time. These do not give much satisfaction to the little ones. For the ultimate play experience, you want a good mix of other kids, but not TOO many other kids. You want to be able to go up the slide once in a while (when your mom isn't looking) and not have to wait too long for a swing.

Here are my top picks for free play this summer.

1. BARCOLA. There is something here for all ages, including big muscle people who go there for a free workout. Who cares if you have kids or not! You can get an eyeful of these folks working their triceps on the monkey bars in the twilight hours. For your little sweeties, they will move out of the way. If you park your towels near the big fountain with the statue of a swimming woman, you will find the first of several playgrounds to your right (if your back is to the water).

2. BORGO SAN SERGIO. Over by the excellent library with a great kids' section there is a wonderful park with extra long slides. Highly recommended. No problem parking. Besides books, the library has movies and music cds. Awesome.

3. GIARDINO PUBBLICO. They say that it is not quite up to its glory days, but it's a classic. The first time I went here I LOVED watching all the kids playing together in all the different languages you hear around this place in the summer.

4. VILLA REVOLTELLA. The only bummer about this place is you can't bring your dog. Come to think of it, dogs are not welcome at most parks in Trieste. Anyway, if your kid doesn't freak out at the statue of Pinocchio becoming a donkey, you will have a lovely time. I like the jungle gym, but it also has a closed-off area where kids can kick a ball around or get used to in-line skates.

There are probably other good ones, too. If you know of any, by all means, share in the comment section below!

Here is What I Forgot to Say about Teaching Refugees

You can never do enough when you work with refugees. Every time we teach there are people who come in off the street and want to join the group, too. I am happy the word is getting around and I don't want to say no to anyone.

So we created a spill-over class. We may have to create a new one.

So there is another thing I learned from the refugees. When they are happy, the word gets around.

What It is Like Working With Refugees

I am a lucky person. I work with refugees. I wrote about that here. I think it is time for a little re-cap of what I have gotten so far from teaching these courses.

I hope this partial list will act as a counterweight to what we see in the papers. It seems every time someone foreign is mentioned in the news, it is a story about violence, drugs, honor killings, and terrorism. There is none of that here.

1. My refugees are not angry people. They are happy, grateful, friendly people. They like Trieste.
2. My refugees have a hilarious sense of humor. We laugh a lot together.
3. My refugees are intellectually curious. If they could have 8 hours of class a day, they would.
4. My refugees are making friends with locals. I see them at the beach meeting each other and talking to new people as well.
5. My refugees treat women with respect. They come and greet me when they come in and say thank you when they leave, even when I am not teaching them. They are respectful of all of the women I have seen them around. They speak highly of their mothers, their grandmothers, their sisters, their wives (when applicable). Three of my refugees know how to sew very well because their mothers and grandmothers taught them.
6. My refugees speak several languages already, so learning Italian is going fast for them, English too. I can't believe the progress I have seen them make.
7. My refugees think eating pasta every day is a little much. They think we should eat more rice.
8. A sense of time can be learned. My refugees used to be late all the time, now they are punctual.
9. My refugees help each other. When they see another student struggling, they come along to the rescue in a kind and sweet way.
10. My refugees have given me new hope for the future. I am a changed person because of them. I recognize them as individuals and can now read the news with a grain of salt. There are many many people like my refugees and I hope I get the chance to teach them, too.

If you see someone walking around Trieste who looks like they may be a refugee, smile. See that person as an individual. It will change something in you, too.

What Color is Your Old?

You want to look 20 years older than you are?

How would you like to have old people health problems in the comfort of your own home and while you are out in public?

Does the idea of looking terrible in your clothes appeal to you?

If you answered YES to any of these questions, then I have your one-stop solution. It's so easy I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner!

Just gain 20 pounds!!

In fact, it is so easy I didn't even notice I was doing it until my pants wouldn't button and I felt like an old fart! It was amazing! My back started hurting, my eye sight got worse, and I became a total grump!

In fact I was just about to try to buy a nice two-story house that was accessible after going up 82 steps or going down 92 when I had a moment of clarity and said to myself:

NOW WAIT HERE JUST A GALL-DARN MINUTE!!

I am 43 years old!! I should be looking for something much smaller, all on one floor. With an elevator and a Super Coop downstairs, and within walking distance of a hairdresser. This was no time to be looking into buying a house with a yard!! My daughter is five years old! What does she need with one of those anyway?! She'll be going to work soon to support her elderly mother. No time for play!

Yes, I had come back to my senses!! Since I was getting old, I would need a nest egg. So I decided to save money on Food. Specifically, I would eat out less and eat less in general. In fact, it's working. I can button my (fat) pants again.

I am back on the road to skinny and rich and young. I shudder at my own potential!

In Trieste there are three kinds of old people-- the ones who act old and grouchy and hog the waiting room at the Doctor's Office on most mornings, the ones who do Zumba, and the ones with walkers and small hyper dogs.

Which one will I be?  I'll check back after summer.

Going to the Beach with your Dog

We were at Barcola beach last night when I had a couple of revelations.

1. I live in a city people come to for vacation.
2. You can bring your dog to Barcola now without a BREVETTO.

I want to hit on that second point here. In the old days you used to have to go through a whole PROCESS of becoming, and having your dog become, a lifeguard in order to take your dog to the beach. Now anyone can do it as long as you are entering the water in a relatively dangerous place (read, no spiagietta). You will have to go in using the treacherous stairs of the Pineta (which is the shady part closest to the big parking lot with trees and places for kids to play). For dogs this means scarey see-through stairs. For you it  means CARRYING your adult labrador until she can safely float. We parked our towels near the fountain last night and the night before and it worked out great.

Our dog worked for 6 years as a volunteer at the beach in Sistiana, which had a nice program that gave dogs and their owners a shady place to hang out on Saturdays and Sundays punctuated by 2-hour shifts watching people splash around and hoping you would not have to actually save anyone. It was a great gig. All of the dogs had their names on their harnesses, so little kids could call them by name and get to know them. In Trieste, you make friends through your activities, so hanging out with dog people became our social life for a while, too. Besides the overall positive experience, getting and keeping up the Brevetto gave us a chance to take our dogs to the beach, do some community service, and make friends at the same time.

When we put Luna into retirement (which coincided with my getting pregnant) the law had changed, allowing you to bring pets to the beach before 7am and after 7pm. That worked out as those were the hours dogs like best.

This year they changed things completely and have designated certain parts of Barcola for dogs. That being said, I would like to extend a little advice to other pet owners who are thinking of bringing their dogs with them.

1. Dogs get hot fast. Limit your beach-going hours to early morning and evening.
2. Keep her hydraded. There are lots of fountains around. Bring a bowl.
3. Those extendable leashes are dangerous. Don't use them at the beach. Keep it short so you don't trip anyone. Also, your dog does not need to "Feel Free". If your dog doesn't want to stay near you, cultivate a better relationship with your dog, please. Read anything by Jan Fennell to find out how.
4. Walk her often. There are grassy areas all around and garbage cans to put the poop. It is stressful just sitting there trying to be a good girl all day.
5. If she's a puppy she may drink sea water and get the poops. Just saying. Bring a bottle of water to dump just in case.
6. Don't assume everyone loves YOUR VERY GOOD DOG. They don't. Make sure your dog is the example that convinces the haters that dogs are okay. Leave your stressed out yipper at home or go to an obedience class first (this goes especially for little dogs. Size is no excuse for not training your dog).
7. Go to Max or Ricky for lessons. They will make you and your dog awesome.
8. If you want an easier place to go in the water with your dog, try the Lido Beach in Muggia. It is totally dog-friendly.

Enjoy!

Ps. If you do not have a dog, please do not offer our dogs food.

Will we ever retire??

Being an ex-pat mostly rocks, I must say. I have a great life in Trieste. But here is the thing. When you work in your own country, you have all the tools you need to plan for RETIREMENT. When you move abroad, not so much.

For one thing, retirement plans that you don't need to think about are for HIRED EMPLOYEES, not so much for people who have a Partita IVA or VAT number. Yes, we pay copious amounts of money into somebody's retirement fund, but it most likely will NOT be our own. To be able to actually retire, we have to pay in for a minimum of 40 years and, at this point, get out what we put in. For the moment that feels like a lot, but I am pretty sure that it really isn't so much in real life.

So, we must make a plan.

I started thinking about this when I got to Trieste and began asking around. I found out a couple of things about Triestini this way.

1. They don't like to talk about money.
2. They really don't like to talk about retirement.

And, when they did talk about it, what I learned was that they were very happy to let the STATE decide when and how they could retire and how much they would receive at that point. In fact, I can count on two fingers the number of people I know in Trieste who have Private Retirement funds. One of them is an American living here, and the other works for a company that opened it up automatically and has a matching program, which is unusual for Italy. She will have a nice retirement situation in the future. Lucky girl.

But, back to ME (me me!).

I was working with a physical therapist back in the day (as in, I was giving him English lessons) and I asked him what his plan was for retirement, since he was an independent person like me. His answer?

Him: "This place."

Me: WHAAAAA?

Yes, that's right. He had bought the apartment his office was in and planned to either sell it when he retired or rent it out and live off that.

That got me to thinking about who held the wealth in Trieste. I needed a benchmark.

I thought about who the wealthiest of the wealthy were in Trieste. That's easy. The Churches: Catholic, Serbian Orthodox, Jewish, Protestant. I realized they all had something in common: they are heavily invested in real estate. Unlike my church in the States, which lives off of contributions from the church community, the churches here collect rent.

So I started asking people about it, and found that people really LOVE talking about real estate and LOTS of people have apartments they rent out.

"Mattoni! They say. The only REAL investment."  Which is Triestino for: "You can't trust the banks."

Many of the apartments are inherited (I would love to be an heiress myself). Some are bought. I decided to buy once I had put away a nice chunk of change from living simply and spending MUCH LESS than what I earn. (For tips on this, you may want to sift through past posts on living the frugal life in Trieste).

Apartment number 2 (as in, not the one I live in) was a NUDA PROPRIETA. This means I bought the apartment at a much cheaper rate and paid lower taxes because a person was living in it and had the right to live in it until his death. Morbid, I know. The idea that your joyous day is the one where someone else departs this life can be a little disconcerting.

In our case we knew the person well, as he was a distant relative with no heirs. He had been looking to sell in this way anyway (even before we came along) and so it was a win-win. Our buying his house allowed him to stay at home (with home care until the very end. He was also happy he wouldn't have to clean out his house (yeah. We had to do it. Ugh). Great location, close to University. Score. We got the electrical system up to code, cleaned it out (except for one set of false teeth, which our first renters found by accident-- whoops!), painted it, put on the finishing touches and rented it out. Awesome.

Now we are ready for apartment number 3. This time we are going for something small within walking distance from the center. The historical center is priced high for what I am looking for. I want a nice return.

Here are my search criteria:
1. Close to center (within 10 minute walk).
2. A bathroom IN the apartment (some have one in the hallway. Nope.)
3. No real estate agency. I want from Privati to Privati. I hate paying commissions.
4. 1,000 euros/square meter or less.
5. Have a renter already inside with a legal contract. There are several reasons for this. Cash flow, of course, but it has to be up-to-code to be rented out legally, so that is a 5,000 euro savings right there. It also buys a little time if there are renovations to make.

I found one and we are in negotiations now. Wish me luck.

In the end the strategy is to up the passive income so that I can decide when to retire.

Stay tuned.

The Art of Saying Goodbye

I just finished teaching a two-day course in Mogliano Veneto. I have been teaching a lot of these lately, which is how I have gotten so good at knowing everything about the two-block radius around the train station in Mestre (I get dropped off there about an hour before my train, which was a drag until I realized there are some great ethnic food shops in the area and a Chinese restaurant --actually, three, but there is one I have chosen for  my little pre-train snack...).

There is something SIGNIFICANT about finishing a two-day course that leaves you tired, a little sad, a little happy to get home. For one thing, I put a huge amount of preparation time into these things without really knowing who I am teaching to. Teaching 8 hours a day requires a different kind of prep than an 8-hour course over 4 weeks where you can hone your material for specific people. Sometimes you have to change gear completely and hope you don't flop.

That is the down side. The up side is that you can have a meaningful experience with people if you spend two full days with them.  

Here is what I really appreciate, even though I never thought about it until today. 

Italian people are really good at saying goodbye. 

They will not leave the class, even if you are busy doing the paperwork and wrapping things up and they could easily sneak out the door. No. They come up to you, they look you in the eye. They thank you, they tell you how much they enjoyed your class, they kiss you and hope to see you again. 

And then they say goodbye. 

Like a ribbon on a present, you have completion. Just like that. A beginning, a middle and an end. 

Until next time. 

Anglo saxons. We suck at saying good bye. We leave when the person isn't looking. We slip out unnoticed. We assume it is not important to you. We move on without having to confront the MOMENT of separation. We don't like coming face to face with our feelings. Not even with our families. The airport has a KISS AND FLY drop off point for a reason. We don't want to cry in front of you. 

Thank you notes that are hand written and sent with a stamp in the mail, yes. We do those. But we do not like to say goodbye in person. Too scary. Too permanent. Too uncertain. Saying goodbye brings to light the NEXT question. 

When will we see each other again? The uncertainty is too much for us. 

The Italians don't need to go there. They simply say CIAO and step out of the room. 

How to Drive in Italy

There is a very nice story today from NPR about getting an Italian driver's license. You should read it, especially if you are an American living in Italy or thinking about driving here.

The long and the short of it is this: if you live in Italy more than a year, you MUST have an Italian driver's license. Lots of people used to get away with not doing this, but lately people are getting HUGE FINES for driving here without the proper translated document. To get that international driver's license you have to plan ahead. Here is a website where you can apply for one. 

This is just a translation of your driver's license, but it's more official, because it also has a picture of you, I suppose. By itself it means nothing. It must be accompanied by your VALID US license and a passport. It generally takes 4-6 weeks to get one. I checked with the local police here, and they do not accept any other documents for American drivers, so, if you want to drive, get one or take the bus.

If you are a permanent resident in Italy, on the other hand, I suggest you suck it up and take the course sooner rather than later!

Yes, I know, I know, you have been driving since you were 16, blah blah blah and  I know how BELOW you it is to have to take driver's ed again, I know I know. I feel your pain. I was once where you are now.

Now shake it off, dry off the tears, and sign up.

A couple of things for you to know.

1. You can't do it on your own, even if you *technically* can

You will want to save money, hassle, and embarassment by studying on your own, but it doesn't work that way, my friend.

For one, the test is goddamn hard. Impossible. Crazy. Trick questions, strange language, wacko. You will need the help of a professional to show you the right approach to the written part.

Then there is the fact that driving schools produce drivers, but it often feels as if the whole testing bit is rigged. Meaning, if you are in a school, you WILL pass the exam. If you are not, you probably will not pass. I could write a book on this whole strange and complicated relationship between the instructors and the examiners, but the thought gives me a mild case of the tremors.

2. It is expensive, but you really do learn a lot!

The theory classes are one thing (I urge you to attend them), and they continue all year long, you jump in where you want, do all the lessons and then it starts over like a Merry-go-round. People jump on and off when they need to. It's actually pretty clever.

Then you have to do a minimum of hours behind the wheel with an instructor. I had to do six. It was helpful. My teacher actually explained how to park. I had never thought about it. And his explanation means that I can get into ANY car, not just mine, and park it like a pro (well, maybe that is going a little too far).

Imagine learning how to drive AGAIN NOW knowing everything you know. You may be pretty good, at driving in the States, but, seriously? Even a monkey can drive in the States. Italy is a totally different party, Dears.

For most of us, when we learn to drive at age 16, we are just trying to get the machine to move and stay on course (the car I used for my driving test did not have power steering, by the way!).

Now, you can go all Formula 1 if you want to. I became a better driver the second time around. Really.


3. Drver's Ed in Italy gives you a window into the Italian mind.

Sometimes it is not pretty, but it is interesting anyway.

4. Rules here are different and your eyes look in all the wrong places.

It takes some getting used to. The first time I realized that I would have too look to the side instead of ahead and to the right to see a stoplight, it was a little disconcerting.

5. It can help your Triestino.

I got really good at Triestino by taking driver's ed class in Trieste. It didn't matter that most of the students were foreign. The teacher taught in Triestine the whole time. Fascinating.

6. The first year you get your license you have certain rules you have to follow like:

zero tolerance for alcohol.
you can't go over 100 kph
you can't drive cars that have too much power

In fact, that first year is a real pain.


So yes, I know you are a good driver, but do this ASAP. Get it out of the way. You can even do it at 7:00 in the morning if you want.

That is what I did. Then at 7:30, when I was free and legal, I hit a bus.
No one was hurt.
But, don't do that.

I do not speak G.O.T.

My family was here visiting; hence my absence. It was an interesting cultural excercise in how illiterate I have become about American culture. I am not keeping up. Even the late arrival of Netflix to my house was not enough to bridge the gap. See, I hate to admit this, but, I do not watch Game of Thrones. This meant that I missed a lot of jokes and references and generally spoke English about halfway and felt like unfrozen cavegirl trying to make it through a day. It wasn't pretty. It was kind of like showing up to a party and seeing how drunk your friends are. You are kind of envious of them, kind of embarassed for them, you realize that under normal circumstances you would be one of them.

But this time you are not. And so instead of having a BLAST, you are bored.

That is what NOT watching Game of Thrones was like for me. There were some who were caught up for the finale, which I guess is today (from the text messages I have been witnessing), others who couldn't wait to get home from Italy to have their G.O.T.-watching marathon.

So I have two questions:

1. Where do they find the time to watch so much t.v.??

I can't be certain, but from my experience over the last couple of weeks, I am guessing that having a car gives you more time to watch t.v.

2. But then how do they get their 10,000 steps in?

Because everyone had some kind of wrist accessory that told them how many steps they were doing and if they did less than 10,000 that meant they were losers. Yet, no one wanted to walk anywhere because it was hot and everything was ten minutes away.

June was a GREAT month for Triestine taxi drivers, I think.

Other than that, there are lots of other things I am behind on, too, and now I have to decide if it is worth trying to get fluent in them.

I will update you on that one.

Rainbow Flags in Trieste

My brother, who is visiting, commented on the support the Italians have been showing for the victims of Orlando. He was particularly surprised by the fact that in Florence there was a rainbow flag flying on a government building to show support. He said "That would never happen in the States."

Last night in Piazza Antonio they held what they call here a "Manifestazione" to mourn the victims of the Orlando shooting. They laid a giant rainbow flag on the ground just in front of the Church of Sant'Antonio and they surrounded it by candles.

It created an interesting effect. It was nighttime, and the feeling was quiet and respectful, but people were meeting together who were happy to see each other, others maybe hadn't seen each other for a while. Once in a while you would see people just staring at the flag and thinking.

The Arcigay group of Trieste put together the event in just a couple of days. It was impressive how they were able to come up with this thoughtful way of showing solidarity. I was proud to be there and to have my American family there with me to see it.

Plugs in Trieste

Can we talk about electricity for a minute here? It is important, yes, I understand that. You need to plug in your phone, your computer, etc. No big deal. Adapter on the end will do fine. Easy peasy.

But what is it about Americans and their HAIR DRYERS? People still use those things? Even when it's thousands of degrees outside?? The idea makes my pits sweat.

If you need a hair dryer, please do not bring your own from home. As far as I know, it is the ONE way you can truly blow out the fuses of the entire block of  where you are staying. Don't do it.

By the way, if you need a hair dryer, you probably just have the wrong haircut. I feel the same about ironing. If you need to iron clothes, then you are buying the wrong clothes!!

Here is what the plugs look like here, so you can plan, however.

Gearing up for the Family Reunion

I am so happy that My Family is coming to visit me this week in Trieste. It is the best kind of Birthday Gift a girl could ask for.

By the way, my Birthday is Friday. Don't forget to wish me happy birthday. Don't worry, I will remind you again Thursday.

They are not coming for my birthday, actually. We decided on this weekend because in America it is Father's Day on Sunday, and that is an easy day to remember, and agree on, especially when you decide two years ahead of time.

I will keep you updated on this great event. Especially on our dramatically radical idea NOT to wear the same thing for our family portrait. (Will they take away our American Passports for this transgression? Will the Khaki pants and white button-down shirt Gods strike us down? We will find out on Sunday).

I am off to the Station to Pick up the FIRST ROUND of guests.

Yippee!

Creepy Dude of the Day Says

Let me just get up all in your face for a minute.

Who are YOU calling Creepy?!

I Miss Bare Feet

When school gets out in the States, there is a collective sigh, and then everyone takes their shoes off until September.

Everything feels better with bare feet: grass, sand, even hot pavement is no big deal once your feet are bare for about a week.

Flip flops should be handy just in case, but no shoes is the way to go.

Italians always have something on their feet. Shoes, slippers, sandals. They have good reason. The only country with more dogs per capita is probably France, and I wouldn't go barefoot there either.

Even in places where you would absolutely WANT to go barefoot here, like the Carso, most people will not, because of TICKS. They are gross little guys to be avoided, so even I wear shoes in the Carso.

There is one place with untainted grass. This means there are no dogs and no wild boars or deers or other animals who attract ticks.

The Soccer stadium. We were there yesterday to cheer on the runners of the 66th Annual Giro di San Giacomo. After it was over we played on the grass. We took off our shoes, and we took a selfie.

Welcome, Summer.

Another Foreign Concept: "CHIARIRE"

Can we get something straight here?

Americans do not CLARIFY situations.

We IGNORE them until they go away. And if they do not go away, then at least until they no longer make us angry. Part of the process of IGNORING the situation is actually ignoring YOU, if you happen to be the CAUSE of the SITUATION.

Yes, people. We give you the cold shoulder not because we want to be mean, but because we ASSUME that the problem is NOT REALLY YOU, but rather OUR REACTION to something you did.

If we are angry about something you DID or DID NOT DO, it is OUR problem that we need to work out in our quiet little way until we feel better.

YOU have nothing to do with this transition. Please, leave us alone to brood. We are the sole invitees to our lonesome pity party.

THIS IS NOT HOW THINGS ARE DONE IN ITALY. BE WARNED.

The Italian tendency is to want to identify how YOU made a mistake and CLEAR THE AIR by yelling at you until you see where you messed up.

If you know how to play the game, though, you will respond with how the OTHER PERSON is REALLY the person who was WRONG.

At this point, it becomes a BARUFFA, which, for us ANGLO SAXONS, means a FIGHT:

So, CLARIFY in Italian can be translated roughly to FIGHT in English.

And we are LOVERS (even if we don't feel comfortable talking about it), NOT FIGHTERS.

Here is where cultures collide.

We ANGLOS ignore YOU ITALIANS but you keep following us, chiding us, bugging us, until we

A. GIVE UP AND BLOW UP AT YOU and spend months regretting this loss of self-control and worrying about how badly we must have hurt your feelings

B. SAY, YES YES, YOU ARE RIGHT. Now will you stop yelling at me so I can go in my room and close the door?!

Then you Italians say YES, OF COURSE I AM RIGHT. I HAVE BEEN TELLING YOU THIS FOR THE LAST THIRTY MINUTES!! THANK YOU FOR FINALLY LISTENING.

Then things have been CLARIFIED.

The Italians go off feeling very happy and satisfied the relationship has reached a new level of understanding.

The Anglo Saxons then go into their room, close the door and read a book until we finally get over it.

Mind the GROUP!

Incidentally, notice how ingrained in the Italian culture it is to compare yourself to the group and try to conform.

EXHIBIT A. We see it at home with our Italian partners' parenting style

"Do you see anyone else in the restaurant flinging food across the table? Exactly. And neither should you!"

EXHIBIT B. We see it when kids don't do well on tests at school.

Here is the process, it may come in handy if you are rearing Italian children.

1. Kid brings home lousy grade on math test.
2. You blow up at kid.
3. Kid assures you that EVERYONE in the class got a bad grade, except that kid that NEVER gets bad grades because she has no friends and the teacher feels sorry for her, so it's not so bad.
4.You check in to the WHAT'S APP PARENT GROUP (which includes ALL of the parents of the children in your kid's class) and VERIFY that everyone else's child did as bad as yours so that you can collectively blame the teacher.

EXHIBIT C. In the classroom.

Any kind of test you give your students will end up a GROUP PROJECT unless you are especially vigilant. Be careful of serial copiers, small group discussions, and cell phone photographers.

Better yet, just assign GROUP PROJECTS and be done with it.

EXHBIT D. We see it in the tax system with the Studi di Settore, which identify tax evaders by comparing your tax declaration to others in your sector.

It's all about the group! Remember that, people.

Putting off the STUDI DI SETTORE

Anyone who knows something about having a VAT number in Italy may be familiar with this little inconvenience, the STUDI DI SETTORE! Before you can officially compile your taxes you have to answer a set of questions related to your line of work. On the surface they look like they are supposed to be FOR INFORMATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY. But that is not the case here. No, siree! Based on your answers, the Italian government will decide if you are paying enough taxes or not based on how much money you claimed and how much work you say you did COMPARED TO OTHER PEOPLE IN YOUR SECTOR. Shit.

They are looking for the tax evaders. The problem is that tax evaders are good at answering these questions. I am not. If you get them wrong, you may have to pay extra taxes.

Here is how I understand the STUDI DI SETTORE.

The Tax Authorities want to make sure you are paying a comparable amount of taxes to other people who are doing the same type of work as you. If you are not, they will slap you with a penalty.

For example, if you are a dentist (I use dentists as an example because they are infamous for claiming less than what they take in. Since there is a perception that they ask for and make too much money anyway, I am confident I won't offend too many people if I use them as an example. There are also less Dentists to get angry with me than, say, English teachers, or Restaurant Owners. See, I actually think about these things.) and you are making, say, 500 euros per year, and working 80 hours per week and 90% of the other dentists in Italy are making 100.000 euros per year and working 40 hours per week, that may be a red flag that a. You are a lousy dentist and should think about a career change, b. You need to raise your fees or c. You are getting paid but "forgetting" to issue receipts. At any rate, the Tax Folks don't really care which category you fall into, as long as you pay what the others are paying, and the STUDI DI SETTORE ensures that.

I am American and so I have a deep fear of Tax Authorities (and Police, but that is a different matter). To complete this document I have to answer questions like: "How many lines of text did you translate in 2015?" and "How many hours did you ACTUALLY work per week in 2015?" (Smells like a trick question to me! Am I supposed to count the hours I spend blogging INSTEAD of working while TELLING MYSELF I am working? Does class preparation count? Is farting around on the internet considered Class Prep? Should I look MORE efficient or LESS efficient?)

Wait a minute, was I supposed to KEEP TRACK of how many hours I actually work, even if they are not billable?!

Well, surprise surprise, I didn't. And now I have to go back and solve the mystery of what the hell I actually did with my time in 2015.

Did I do anything?
Who am I?
What is the meaning of life?

Is that my SOCK DRAWER calling me?? I think it needs to be organized... ASAP!!

Your Shoes Can Talk

...But only the Triestini can hear them. Here is what the conversation sounds like to the rest of us.

BIRKENSTOCK CLOGS: (What sounds like silence to you and me).
TRIESTINO: You work at the Hospital?! Since when? Cattinara or Maggiore?

CROCS: (What sounds like one hand clapping in a lonely forest).
TRIESTINO: I know. I totally need to get out into my garden too!!

WELLINGTON BOOTS: (What sounds like an ant sleeping)
TRIESTINO: Caspita!!! The Pescaria is already closed and I was JUST on my way to the Fish Monger's to get a nice BRANZIN for supper!

SANDALS WITH SOCKS: (What sounds like time standing still)
TRIESTINO: I had NO idea you were German. You totally don't have an accent! Complimenti!!

10cm JAUNTY HEELS: (What sounds to us like the shadow of a tap on the pavement)
TRIESTINO: I go to Lidl usually or Despar. Where are you off to? I'll walk with you. I could use a snack!'m out of caffè and creamer.

FLIP-FLOPS: (What sounds to us like eery quiet)
TRIESTINO: Me too, DEI, see you at Barcola!! Quanti gradi xe l'aqua?

FLIP-FLOPS, NO BEACH BAG: (What sounds to us like cherries growing)
TRIESTINO: Dry your hair. Te ciapi freddo going out in the cold after a shower!!

TWO BARE FEET STANDING IN THE GRASS: (What sounds like world peace).
TRIESTINO: ARDA! Don't step in the dog poop!!

Raising Bi-Lingual Kids Is Not Easy

This is a pretty vast subject. Let's start the discussion anyway.

It was my hope and desire that my kid would grow up bilingual. To prepare for this, here is what I did.

1. I spoke to her in English from the womb on.
2. I insisted.
3. I read to her lots of books in English.
4. I went to the States at least once a year.
5. I hung out with English-speaking people.

And, guess what. Italian STILL won. I knew this was normal on some level, but deep down, I felt like this was a sort of early rebellion on her part. Sure, she understood what I was saying, but she answered in Italian. Like a dagger through the heart EVERY time. But I did not let on. No.

Instead, I:

1. Acknowledged her, even if she spoke to me in Italian.
2. Answered in English.
3. Died quietly on the inside and pretended it was no big deal on the outside.
3. Tried not to let her know that it was important to me.
4. Pretended not to hear the snide comments from parents of my English students saying "Well, even the Director's kid doesn't speak English, so ours are ok!!"

I, like lots of people in the same situation, concluded that she was a little, how shall we say, Linguistically Lazy.

So I decided to get tough.

I wanted to change her perspective, get her to think that English was easy, that it was part of her. I had to somehow displace Italian, take it out of the equation without taking it out of the equation.

I had the perfect solution.

Slovene Pre-School. I had other reasons to put her there, too. Like the fact that my mother-in-law is from the Slovene minority. I justified it that way, and that we were STEALING BACK the language that was stolen from my husband because they spoke Italian at home.

It worked for lots of other reasons, even if it didn't make her speak English.

It put her in touch with other bi-lingual kids, for example. It made her feel like English WAS part of her precisely because she didn't feel Slovenian.
But then I realized I was wrong.

She wasn't lazy. She just couldn't form the words in English. I found this out one day when I got frustrated with her for asking me for AQUA instead of water.

I made her repeat the longest sentence in English I could think of that would be asking for water politely.

MOMMY MAY I PLEASE HAVE A GLASS OF WATER PLEASE?!

I think I scared her, because she repeated it. But it came out as a strange garbled thing that did not resemble my sentence at all.

That was when I realized the problem was something else entirely.

From that moment on I changed approach. I listened to her in Italian, answered her in English, and then I said her sentence again in English. After a few times she started to repeat. Then within about two weeks she was speaking. Something about that no-pressure practice time unblocked her. She has been an English chatterbox ever since.

I am happy I put her in Slovene school. She is finishing her third year of pre-school now and getting ready for first grade. She is fluent in three languages. She found a way to belong to all three of them somehow and is really proud of what she can do.

I am, too.

The reason I mention this is that I want you to know that if your kid answers you in her dominant language (and it is not English), she probably isn't lazy. She may just need a little more help forming the words.

I hope this helps.

Don't give up. Remember, it only takes one generation to lose a language forever. In most cases, it is the mother's language.

This is another fun page to read on the subject. The comments are so interesting! 

Creepy Girl Says Good Morning!

Any resemblance of this view to this morning is highly fictitious.
This was from Saturday afternoon after lunch at
Creepy Girl's House.
Grigliata. 

Cryptic Graffiti Around Trieste

What could it mean?
 I think we have the makings of a real Thriller here!
Let's call Dan Brown.

American Politics for Barcola Beach Goers

Maybe you've noticed, Italians. The Americans have their undies in a bunch over the upcoming Presidential Elections when they SHOULD be thinking about how and where they are going to spend the entire month of August.

But, let's face it.

You and I know that:

1. No one gets the entire month of August off anymore, and
2. Politics are SUPER ULTRA MEGA boring.

So I thought I would give you a few tips so that you can handle the politics conversation long enough to be able to eventually CHANGE THE SUBJECT to something more interesting, like food. Or wine. Or Grappa.

 Lesson 1.

A "Tea Party" candidate is an ultra rightwing conservative Republican. Just think Triestine Ultras but instead of going to soccer games they go to church. I don't think they actually drink tea. They probably drink milk straight from the cow in the back yard, or maybe a Schlitz beer on special occasions.

But don't trust my definition. Here is what Google says.

tea par·ty

noun

1. 1.

   a social gathering in the afternoon at which tea, cakes, and other light refreshments are served.
2. 2.

   a US political party that emerged from a movement of conservatives protesting the federal government in 2009.

I am talking about definition 2. 

Lesson 2.

What we call the Democratic party has two candidates who are fighting to become the official Democratic candidate in Novembre. They veer left. There's Hilary (Clinton's wife, she did some other things, too) and Bernie (White guy with white hair. Says he is a Socialist, which to most Americans means Communist and in America Communists are still scarey).

Lesson 3

Donald Trump. The American Berlusconi (with hair). He is the Republicans' choice to be the Republican Candidate but the Republicans hated him but now they like him and the important thing in the end for the people who like him is 1. He is not Hilary and 2. He is not Obama and 3. He is a rich man who has created successful Reality Show Franchises. His wife is Slovene.

Lesson 4.

Elections take place in November.
Yes, Americans living outside of America can vote. They give us a choice if we want to vote by pencil, or internet. I chose internet. We vote before the elections when the American soldiers do.

HERE ENDS OUR SERIES.

 As you can see I am an AUTHORITY on these things, so feel free to ask for my absolutely FREE and UNBIASED OPINION!!

Now let's go to the beach!!!

Please do the Cambio Stagione!

It's that time of year again!!

It's getting hot out, Triestini, and you KNOW what that means!! Cambio Stagione! Time to take those winter clothes, pack them into their summer hiding places and get out YOUR SUMMER CLOTHES!

The reason I say this is... um.

The city is getting a little smelly.

I am getting a little smelly.

I had to run to CAD to get a brand spanking new invisible roll-on liquid deodorant that I CAN KEEP IN MY PURSE because this humidity is making me stinky sooner than normal. This is a disaster.

The other problem is that I did the Cambio Stagione, but I did not like what I saw. I put all of my clothes away in a hurry when it got cold last September, so things are all wrinkly and ugly and I do not want to wear them.

So I went shopping today for new clothes.
But I didn't see anything I liked.
I also don't like to iron.

What is a girl to do?

Of course! It is so simple! Go to CAD, get new Deodorant, and apply as needed. I will wear my winter clothes into July before it runs out.

Problem solved!

Creepy Dude of the Day Says

EAT YOUR VEGETABLES!!

Ask Aunt Karoline

Dear Aunt Kari,

        

        I have been assigned a food project in Social Studies class. I chose to do my food project on Italy since we are going there. I have to make a menu for a typical Italian meal with breakfast, lunch, dinner. Can you please give me some suggestions for each meal on a typical day. For extra credit we can make a small item to bring in and share with the class. Do you have any easy recipes for something I could make at home and bring to school? Thanks for your help and can't wait to see you soon. 

Nathan

Dear Nathan,

We asked 3 people other than ourselves to tell us what they eat on a typical day. Here is what they told us.
Italians eat what is called a Mediterranean diet. 

Breakfast: On the sweet side  Cookies (Store bought, Eva likes chocolate chip) or bread/toast and jelly (usually apricot) or bread and Nutella.  Coffee (cocoa) + warm milk (Eva likes cold better because she thinks skin is gross) 

Lunch: (Kids go home for lunch or have hot lunch at school. Adults eat at home or at the cafeteria or at a restaurant. No bag lunches). Veggie soup or broth or Pasta (or potato gnocchi) with any of the following: meat sauce, pesto, olive oil and grated Parmesan cheese (not that powder stuff but real cheese), tomato sauce,  4 cheeses (Gorgonzola, Asiago, etc).  Bread. Salad (salt, olive oil, vinegar in that order) or cooked vegetables like spinach (with butter and Parmesan cheese) or bell peppers or peas, etc. Fruit (What is in season. Right now there are cherries! Yum! Right off the tree!) 

Dinner: Usually meat (chicken, pork, beef, veal, fried or roasted, etc) and veggies or meat and polenta or a nice risotto. Salad. Fruit. Maybe dessert (gelato!).  We have Pizza about once a week (homemade or out during the weekend). 

For a snack: nuts, cookies, bread, crackers, Ice cream, focaccia bread, etc.  

If you are looking for an Easy recipe:  Google a recipe for Pesto or try this one  (The purists will tell you to use a mortar and pestle instead of a food processor. You do what works for you). It is a crowd pleaser! Tastes great cold too. You could serve your class a little taste in a Dixie cup or something similar.  

Potato gnocchi are also impressive and kind of fun but a little more work. Beware of recipes that tell you to "shower" your gnocchi with anything, especially Truffles. You can serve them with just butter and parmesan cheese or tomato sauce, etc.  

An interesting tidbit. The fanciest food here is seafood or fish. They serve them with the head and the tail (unless it's a big fish like salmon or tuna) so you can see how fresh it is.  Another thing: milk is for coffee here. Adults do not drink it at all and kids drink very little of it after age 3 or so (unless they like it).  

Hope this helps! Can’t wait to see you!!

Love,Auntie K 

Want to Feel Rich? Come to my place!!

My most popular blog posts are about living frugally and saving money the Triestino way. This time I want to turn things around to talk about the things that drain our bank accounts in America. They came to mind as I read the article in the Atlantic this month called the Secret Shame of the Middle Class.

Note that it refers to the MIDDLE CLASS, not the poor. And that is what I find so interesting-- how far the Middle Class will go to appear wealthy.

Among the bombshells of the article was the revelation that 47% of Americans would not have $400 cash in the event of an emergency. Second revelation: 67% of Americans would not be able to come up with $2,000 even if they had a month to do it. Well, they could, but they would probably have to sell some combination of internal organs to do it. So even with the popularity of Financial gurus like Suze Orman, we Americans just can't seem to up our financial literacy game.  

The writer  counts himself as the typical financially illiterate American who is in lousy financial shape and constantly trying to hide it from his acquaintances and even his own family (until now). He explains how it happened that a smart, educated, reasonable guy got himself so overrun with debt that he and his wife had to ask their grown children on occasion to help them pay for heating when the oil ran out.

I kept thinking... Can he hear himself? The justifications for his financial disaster came in this self-righteous tone: "Well, maybe I could have done things differently, but excuuuuuse me for choosing a career I love that pays eratically AND wanting my kids to have a good education AND wanting to pay for my kids' wedding AND wanting to live in the Hamptons!"  

Basically, here is what it comes down to. The game is to appear wealthy. Here is how!

1. Pay for your Childrens' education. School must be expensive and elite to give them the networking possibilities required to jump into a higher social class (inshalla). It starts with private elementary schools and takes them all the way up to ivy league colleges and universities.

2. Live in the most expensive neighbourhood you can afford in the biggest house you can possibly afford (while times are good). If you are not putting your kids in private schools, then public schools are funded by property taxes. The higher the property value, the higher the taxes, and the better the school. Also, you want your kids in contact with the "right" kids.

3. Pay for your kids' enormous weddings, after all, it's your little Princess's Special Day! Put it all on your credit card.

And remember this very important Underlying Assumption which will help you justify spending more than you make. Say it with me:

"I will make more money next year than this year, so I will pay off the debt fast."


Another way you can appear and feel rich is to come and visit ME in ITALY. Here are the comments I regularly get from my American visitors which make them feel GREAT (and make me feel like a total loser)!

1. You live in an APARTMENT????!!!
2. Everything here is so LITTLE and CUTE!
3. Now would you call this a CONDO or an Apartment? Did you actually take a LOAN out to buy THIS PLACE?
4. OMG! You only have ONE car?? How can you LIVE?! It's a STATION WAGON? I can't believe they still make those!! Gosh, reminds me of the 70s!!
5. Your Fridge is so TINY!! It's like Gulliver lives here!
6. Wow! Is that an iPhone 4? Haven't seen one of those since about 2014! My iphone 6  comes free with my $150/month plan and it takes SUCH GOOD pictures. I read books on it, too.
7. What?? They don't have free wifi here, like EVERYWHERE??

There you have it.
I wish I had a new phone.