The Opposite of Happiness is Boredom

The opposite of happiness is not sadness as it turns out. According to my new favorite book The 4-Hour Workweek by Tim Ferriss, it's BOREDOM!

Which explains a lot. Like, why I keep procrastinating in getting my work done (WHY THE HELL DID I TAKE ON THIS CONTRACT ANYWAY, DOING THE JOB IS AS EXCITING AS WATCHING PAINT DRY), why I keep putting off what I REALLY need to do to feel better in general (RUNNING AN ULTRA MARATHON, NOT JUST TELLING MYSELF TO GO OUT AND RUN FOR HALF AN HOUR AND THEN FINDING EXCUSES TO STAY HOME ON MY KEISTER).

I AM EFFING BORED BECAUSE I HAVE LOWERED MY STANDARDS AND EXPECTATIONS FOR MYSELF AND THAT IS THE WORST THING IN THE WORLD YOU CAN DO TO YOURSELF.

As a result, what I am SUPPOSED to be doing (as defined by ME) is MEDIOCRE, BORING CRAP that I have NO INTEREST IN DOING.

I AM DESTINED FOR GD GREATNESS (pardon my French)!! I just COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THAT (does that ever happen to you??)

Now, to be fair, I do not believe that everything has to be exciting all of the time, but I have generally lost touch with what I find EXCITING and WORTH MY PRECIOUS TIME. I need to get back to KNOWING what will make me SUPER MEGA PSYCHED to wake up in the morning (although I do not wake up unhappy, I am not JUMPING OUT OF BED the way I could be).

My TO-DO List has nothing to do with what I am DYING to do before I DIE. So I am creating a new list (don't laugh).

I know it is strange, but this revelation (the opposite of Happiness is Boredom) explains my SEA LEVEL EXISTENCE over the last six months: why I fell off my Vegan diet (still vegetarian but HATING IT, want to get Cheese out of my life for good!!) and can't get  motivated to create a lifelong healthy running habit past the next small roadrace. I am running but have gained 25 (not kidding) pounds since Christmas. This has GOT to stop.

So here is what I am going to work on in the SHORT TERM (0-6 MONTHS)

1) Write consistently (blog and other writing) and finish my next book on learning foreign language super fast.
2) Sign up for an Ultra Marathon (50k or more. I may do the Bora run because it is in Trieste). I am not a fast runner, but the spare tire around my middle tells me I am meant for DISTANCE!!
3) Learn Swedish so I can get in touch with my mom's roots (and read IKEA boxes better). For this I will use Duolingo.
4) Sign up for the Stockholm marathon in June and thus kill three birds with one stone (running goal, practice my Swedish, dig up my Pippi Longstocking long lost relatives and hopefully talk my mom into coming along for the ride).
5) Make a plan to become financially independent (I live in Trieste, so I am looking at real estate opportunities) and cover my expenses so I can be free to plan even wackier things that are NOT BORING.
6) Finish my house inside and out so I can rent her out and get paid to go on crazy vacations around the world with my family (wish list: Turkey, India, Japan, Sweden, Middle East, Greece, Brazil, and go back to Belgium, France and Brazil to visit old friends)
7) Find the joy in the jobs I am doing. Everything I do must be AWESOME
8) Get a new bike.

This list should keep me busy and get me motivated again.

My friend Monica used to tell her students that being bored is a reflexive verb in French (Italian, too). That means getting out of it falls entirely within our own control.

I feel like it is my responsibility.
Wish me luck.

The Undocumented Bear

Note: This article has been updated for clarification and correctness. KS

I have a friend named Azim, who was my student a couple of years ago when he first arrived in Trieste as a refugee. We have run into each other on and off since then and now I am working with him and his friend Abbas to help them run their own micro business. 

Here is what I can tell you about Azim. It's actually not much because he would rather talk about the present than the past and I don't have enough cultural literacy to be able to interpret the information he has given me into something more. 

He is 32 years old. He was born in Afghanistan but his family fled to Iran because his country was at war. In Iran he lived in a refugee camp and then in the city of Asfahan. He was never recognized by Afghanistan as a citizen and he was not recognized by Iran, either. Not being Iranian, he was not allowed to go to school in Iran. He began working in a tailoring shop when he was 7 years old. He became an expert tailor. He learned how to read and write on his own. When his father died, he decided to go towards Europe. After a long and arduous trip he ended up in Norway where he applied for asylum and worked as a tailor for two years. When his number came up, he was denied asylum and sent back to Afghanistan because that was where he was born. Having never lived there and having no rights there as a citizen (because he was never recognized there), however, he decided to try again, this time he ended up in Trieste. 

Have you ever met anyone without a nationality? With NO CITIZENSHIP? Can you imagine what that must feel like? Now, I don't want to go on a political tyrade here, but I do want to humanize for a moment the refugee situation we are experiencing here in Trieste. 

So I met Azim when he ended up in my classroom. What impressed me about him was how hungry for school he was. He spoke English quite well, but he came to the beginner class, too, just so he could be around learning longer. When he told us his story, I understood why. Our kids don't understand that school is a privilege. 

Sometimes when we teach we go to the sewing machines. It is pure, hands-on problem-solving in English. Azim  became everyone's teacher. He could sew so fast, and was so at ease with fabric and needles and thread while I just bumble my way through the basics. Sewing is  an art and mastery is a pleasure to witness. From then on, we begged Azim to volunteer for us when we taught sewing to children. He was so patient with the kids and what a gift to see sewing as a skill that brings people together.  

After that, we saw Azim less. His English classes had finished and he was busy taking other courses and doing internships as part of the city's unemployment programs. Each time he hoped that he would get hired. Mostly, however, companies rely on these programs to help them get by, as times are still hard economically in Trieste. 

He came to my office one day to talk. I knew what he was going to ask. All of our refugees come back at some point desperate to find work. They love Trieste, they say, but there are no opportunities here. I know what he means. Contracts are very hard to come by. Ask any new graduate. It is very difficult to find a full-time job. Add to that being a foreigner and things are even more difficult. 

I try to spread the word to my friends and acquaintances that my refugee friends are looking for work and they give the same downward-tilted shake of the head and the sigh that say I know, these are tough times. 

Everyone tells them that, too. They say they want to go to the UK, Germany, Denmark, and we try to tell them, even worse than Italy right now! Governments have changed, there is no more tolerance, people don't want to help anymore. But this myth exists. Somewhere there is a job for me. 

But I don't believe that crap. Nobody wants to hire anybody these days. It's that simple. If you want to make it you have to create your own business. I have written about this here before, so I am sorry if I sound like a broken record, but THE FUTURE IS IN ENTREPRENEURIALISM, PEOPLE!! 

I could feel myself perk up with a little blast of Do-It-Yourself energy. 

YOU CAN SEW! YOU NEED TO MAKE THINGS!! YOU NEED TO SELL THINGS! YOU NEED TO RELY ON YOURSELF!! 

Duh, his look tells me, thanks for the MAN-SPLAIN, Karoline. As if I hadn't thought of that. 

He pulls out his phone, opens up the gallery and shows me photos of magnificent women's purses he makes out of used jeans. 

YES, I SAY! DO THAT! BUT NOT PURSES. Something else... 

We go back and forth for a while. He sticks on purses for a bit, I get stuck on baby clothes and baby blankets since my colleague is pregnant and I need to get her something. 

Then I get this BRILLIANT IDEA (and in this whole altruistic affair, let it go down in history that it was my dang idea!! At least that!!). BEARS. Yes, Bears made of Used Blue Jeans. 

He looks at me like I am wack! 

But at this point I have A VISION. I see the future! It is paved with teddy bears. And I remember that we have an embassy visit on Tuesday. 

Yeah, so, like can you make a teddy bear by Tuesday? And he is like, um, ok, I guess. And we decide to meet on Tuesday. 

In the meantime, I go back and forth on it. He will never do it on time, where are we going to get a pattern? What does this mean? How can he do this legally? 

And I make an appointment with an accountant, because if we are going to launch this super duper teddy business, we need to make it real, people! 

He basically tells me it can't be done. Unless they open a business and I am like duh, that is why I called you. I later found out it is even simpler than that if they start out as Hobbyists and sell at a few markets a year, but that is for another story. 

So fast forward to Tuesday. They come with TWO bears. One looks like a mouse, but I don't have the heart to tell him. Later in the meeting he says "One is a bear, the other look like mouse," so that cleared the air. 

We told the story. I threw some marketing magic into the mix. 

The symbolism of it all! Two hands up thumbs faced in, framing the pretend movie screen. 

A Bear (and a mouse)

A Refugee (and his friend Abbas, who sort of showed up and became part of the project)

What do we all need? Love, Security. 

Could these bears be the secret to both?

Fade out.

The embassy was enthusiastic and with American Corner Trieste they donated stuffing. The Salesian nuns donated used clothes, "Even the poor don't want to wear clothes that are torn and tattered, maybe the Teddy Boys can salvage something," said Sister Giovanna, and the Teddy Boys got to work.

They made 41 (forty-one) prototypes in about a week. Each one is marvelous and unique and dressed up with CRAZY COLOR COMBINATIONS. Seriously. They are gorgeous. They were the belles of the Fourth of July party we had on July 1st. Little people lined up while parents got out their wallets.

I thought I saw Abbas tear up when he saw the little girls choose outfits and then change them and change them and change them again. That was a turning point and perhaps the moment where he realized that Bears are kind of a big deal, and also that the CLOTHES are THE BEST!!

Then I thought about it. 

Bears, made in Italy, by men who are from Afghanistan but not really and Iran but not really and Trieste, but not really. 

Where will they end up? And where will they tell people they are from?

The bears are refugees too. They have no real documentation except the receipt we give people who  buy them. They do not have passports. Some will get stuck in suitcases and flown to distant destinations, especially since my mom got a hold of a picture of them and ordered ten for her friends and neighbors.

Another is on its way to New York next week.

Will they be turned away at the border?

If they are allowed to stay, will they be able to vote on important toy issues?

There are no clear answers yet. I will keep you posted.

Photo: Lucia Villegas

Give Yourself Your Own Damn Raise!

A couple of weeks ago I was talking to a colleague, who is a moderate smoker, about how we spend money. He said: "If I could just quit smoking, it would be like having a 60-euro raise each month." Now, to Americans that may not seem like a lot of money, but here in Italy, raises are pretty hard to come by (the negative trade-off to having the security of such things as lifetime contracts, I suppose). It is still 720 euros more in your pocket per year.

It got me to thinking about the concept of giving yourself a raise. Why wait for your boss to notice you? Do it yourself. Better yet, reduce your expenses so much that after a few years you won't even have to work that much to cover them! Now that is empowerment, people!

If you're not sure how you can give yourself a raise, I have listed some of the items that we DON'T spend money on at my house. The shock is how much it adds up to! It made me think about how easy it is for my friends who make much more money than I do to live from paycheck to paycheck even though they are high earners.

Note: the Give Yourself A Raise concept is not for everyone.

Especially if you say to yourself, "I work so hard, I DESERVE to spend money on __________" or "Saving money is cool, but I want to have a LIFE..."

Rather, a compatible mindset would say "I work so hard, it's a pity to throw money away on ________  when what I really want to do is _____________."

Pick and choose what works for you. Here are some of the expenses that my friends and colleagues spend money on that I choose not to.

1. A second car.
Gas alone: 150

2. Apperitivi with friends during the week.
Savings: 80

3. Coffee and brioche at the bar (weekday breakfast).
Savings: 80

4. Lunch out or in the mensa.
Savings: 240

5. Yoga at the gym.
Savings: 40

6. Newspaper/magazines.
Savings: 40

7. Cigarettes.
Savings: 100

8. Massages.
Savings: 100

9. Meat.
Savings: 100

10. Manicures
Savings: 100

11. Estetista (hair removal, I believe-- these places are a mystery to me)
Savings: 100

12. Hairdresser (I may go once a year, otherwise I cut my own):
Savings: 100

13. Cable tv
Savings: 45

Total Savings: 1175

There are probably other things you may be spending your money on, too. If they are important to you, keep them. If not, simplify and live richer. It's the Triestine way.

Living the Triestine Dream: Let's quit work forever!!

This week I am obsessed with finances. Every once in a while I get this bug. I love reading the frugal blogs and trying to figure out how I can live free and clear without working (of course I will work anyway because I love working, but I just don't want all the PRESSURE to have to pay bills and things. I want them to pay themselves.)

Every time I bring this up, my husband has the same Italian reaction: "Retire early? That's not possible. We don't make enough money. We don't know anyone who has ever done that! Maybe in America, but no, sirree, not here in Italy! Not Possible!" End of Story.

But my Uncle?

Well, your Uncle made a lot more money than we do. He's rich. Maybe if we were rich... but we are not.

Well, how much do we have to have to be rich?!

Um. I don't know. A million?

And that's how these conversations go. Being able to "get there" is something that only "rich people" somewhere out in rich land can do. Not us. No. It is our destiny to work for an hourly wage that goes down every year (because we are in Italy) and accept our lot in life.

But I don't give up so easily. I pick up my journal again and again and again and I work out the numbers and try to work out how I can successfully replace my income with passive income (lower taxes and less work). Then I realized that I was coming at it from the wrong direction.

I realized I don't need to replace my income. I only need to cover my expenses. And my expenses are a completely different number than what I actually make on average because I do the one thing that ensures effective wealth building: I spend less than I make.

So I put together our fixed costs and came up with an insanely small amount that we actually spend per month then I added a good cushion to cover things like eating out (but once a month instead of once a week) and other "fun" spending. Once I did this, I started looking at what would be left over and how long it would take me to pay off my house, then buy another apartment for rental income (Italians are risk-averse, so property is an easier sell at my house).

Basically, the cheapskate blogs say it takes 7 years of living off of 30% of your income to retire (which does not mean "collect unemployment" it just means not have to work because your expenses are covered by passive income). When I did the math I found that I could pay off my house in 4 years (instead of 15) and then take another two and a half years to save up for another apartment to cover what is left of my expenses after my house gets paid off and including the small income I get from an apartment I already have. That means NOT SEVEN YEARS, but LESS!

Of course it means I would have to eat out less (which makes me hungry) but I think it would be worth it.

Then I realized that the money I get back each year from doing home improvements on my house over the next ten years gives us exactly the same amount of money that a rental would.

Incredible.

You just have to do the numbers. And live on the ultra cheap. More information on what that actually means as well.

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.

A Triestino Guide to Saving Money

Hope you enjoy these money-saving strategies inspired by the frugalest of the frugal and you will make any Triestine proud!

1. Never pay for parking

Triestini hate paying for parking. Take a look at the lot downtown by Piazza Unità. The license plates? All foreign. Maybe there are a few cars from other regions in Italy that don't know any better.

Triestini would rather hike down from San Giusto and back up again to avoid paying that 80 cents/hour or whatever it costs now to park downtown. My husband says it's not about money, it's about PRINCIPLE.

Which is why the Triestini look for ambiguity and take advantage of spaces where it is not clear whose jurisdiction it is to give you a ticket. Case in point, in that same parking lot, if you park in the blue lines (blue means you pay, white means you don't) you pay for your parking and if your time runs out you get a ticket. If you park OUTSIDE the lines, however, some other "authority" has to come out and give you a ticket. But is it the Port Authority? Is it the local Police? No one really knows, so while they are trying to figure that one out, you can go meet your friends, have a nice walk, and come back to your car without spending a thing. The Parking people can't do a thing about it. They work for a private company that manages the parking spaces that are DRAWN with blue lines.

I wouldn't recommend this trick to you if you are not from Trieste, however. Your illegal parking instincts just aren't sharp enough yet. The Triestini have moved on to better parking options by now, anyway. But I am not allowed to reveal where until they start ticketing there, too.

That is the Triestine Parking Pact and you must be initiated.

2. Buy your clothes at Boutique Mirella

Affectionately known to the Triestini as "Da Mirella" as if you were going to the home of the famous owner, Boutique Mirella is the official outfitter for 3/4 of Trieste (people for sure, and probably the other stores, too) and a large part of ex-Yugoslavia. You, too, can witness the best cultural spectacle this side of the Station! It is Trieste's version of Filene's basement, without the brand names. This shopping experience is not for the faint-hearted. Go with your mother-in-law. She knows how the system works.

Can't find it, you say? Look for the white manequins outside all dressed in the same color not far from more manequins without heads who are wearing a complementary color.

This week they are wearing YELLOW.

3. Order a "Capo in B"

A "CAPO" is called a MACCHIATO in any other town outside of Trieste. The CAPO IN B is a small "Capuccino" served in a small glass, or BICHIERE which the Triestini claim is BIGGER than a normal espresso cup.

This means you get more for your money.

4. Stand up at the bar and have your coffee.

Bars in Trieste charge you the same amount for a cup of coffee no matter where you go if you are standing up. If you sit down it will cost you 2-3 times as much. Some bars have a deal where you can pay for 9 coffees and get 10 or discounts if you get coffee and a brioche (which is not a brioche in the French sense, but more like an industrially-produced croissant stuffed with apricot jelly, custard, or nutella).

Oddly, Triestini don't like the idea of replacing their coffee out with a coffee at home. They will also have coffee at home, of course, but coffee at a bar is a sort of ritual, and is considered the "good" coffee of the day.

5. Live without a dryer.

To us Americans it seems uncivilized, but Triestini say dryers are bad for your clothes. Right! I used to say, until I got used to not having one. Your clothes last longer, you spend less on electricity, and... what's not to like about waiting two days for your clothes to dry in winter? Actually, if you put on your de-humidifier in the bathroom overnight and it's cold enough to have the heat on, they dry overnight.

Don't shoot the messenger. This is what the Triestini do!

5. Have your apperitivo where there is free food.

Everyone now is having their happy hours in ViaTorrino, which is that street that goes up to Piazza Hortis. Do they have free food? I am not sure, but if they do, rest assured that if they do, the bar is full of Triestini having a drink and loading up so they can skip dinner.

6. Get your gas, cigarettes, and Sunday lunch in Slovenia.

Some things never change. Even Lorenzo Pilat addressed this in his Triestine Anthem "Finanziere" about Triestini coming back over the border from Slovenia smuggling meat and grappa when it was still Yugoslavia. It's not as cheap as it used to be, but there are still savings to be had by doing your grocery shopping and fill-ups in Slovenia, and, while you are there, loading up on mixed grill in a quantity-is-better-than-quality restaurant somewhere close by.

7. Buy wine in bulk, or "sfuso".

We get ours in Slovenia most of the time, but you can also go to places in town here and buy really nice wine by the liter. Bring your own 1.5 liter water bottles and transfer to glass bottles when you get home. Not recommended for bringing to someone's house if you are invited for dinner unless you got a really good verduzzo or you are really good friends. Note: drink it fast. It doesn't last as long as the bottled kind.

8. Go to the "Mercato del Ingrosso" on Saturday mornings

Where else can you get a CASE OF RADISHES for 2 euros?! (Next question, what the hell do you do with a CASE OF RADISHES??) This is the best of Triestine food shopping. There is hustle and bustle, people yelling, and forklifts. You can also bargain with the sellers who want to get rid of their stock on Saturday. The catch is that you have to buy things by the case, so go with a friend and split what you buy. Otherwise you will have carrots coming out of your ears after three days.

The Mercato here is open from 10am to 11am. Before that they are only open to merchants who buy the same food and mark it up to sell to the public in normal quantities.

BTW, if you want to buy in normal quantities but want that mercato feel, go to the Mercato Coperto in Largo Barriera. There you can also buy from local farmers. You can get things like eggs from real chickens there, too. I recommend it.

9. Make friends with a person with an "Orto"

I love people with vegetable gardens. Especially during tomato season. Beware of excess zucchini! I don't know what it is about that stuff, but everyone seems to plant too much zucchini and no one really likes it as far as I can tell.

11. Buy your car used.

This is how you tell the spenders from the savers! The savers have used cars they bought in cash. The spenders have new cars they buy with financing.

12. Maximize on the affordable luxuries.

Triestini buy a can of really expensive coffee ONCE and then use the can over and over again but filled with their favorite off brand of coffee. They swear that their secret brand is JUST AS GOOD and that NO ONE EVER NOTICES.

The fancy coffee can looks GREAT when you have guests!

That is what it is all about, of course, saving money but making it look like you spent LOTS! One time I got a really good deal on a summer dress. I was so excited I only paid 15 euros for it. I was announcing it to the world. My mother-in-law took me aside and advised me: "Karoline, you must NEVER reveal how much you paid for that dress, just wear it and look great."

The joy is in the secret.