Italian Life Olympics – Event #2

If you missed my first post on Italian Life Olympics, click here to catch up.

So, back to event #2: crossing the street in Italy.

No, no! It’s no joke. In order to correctly perform this task in busy, crowded, car-congested cities like Roma or Napoli, there’s a certain level of skill required or else –

POM!

Some Mario Andretti wannabe will remorselessly metterti sotto (run you over) in their little Fiat 500 without a backward glance while you’re left, stuck to the pavement, newly resembling a human pizza.

Wishing earnestly to avoid this fate, you keep your wits about you and gear up for the event. (Some people choose to say a hearty goodbye to their loved ones beforehand – you never know!).

“Today I’m crossing the street.” “Call when you get to the other side.”

You walk to the curb of the street you wish to cross and size up the amount of traffic (probably molto) that’s crossing your path. You pay no attention (this is important) to what’s going on with the semafori (traffic lights) or the strisce (crosswalks), because the drivers don’t either. You take in the speed, the size of the vehicles and any other obstructions in the area. You toe up to the edge.

Then you turn your head towards oncoming traffic and catch the eye of a driver in the lane closest to you. Now, they’re not really slowing down yet, but you know this is your chance. You maintain eye contact with the driver, steel yourself for the exertion ahead, step off the curb and you…

Walk into traffic.

Chin up, head high, like you own the street. And you keep walking.

You catch the eye of other  drivers as they approach you, and something miraculous happens. Sensing that you’re actually serious about traversing their path, and that their sewing-machine engines are no match for you, they’ll take in your confident stride and acquiesce. Momentarily.

And like Moses parted the Red Sea, the traffic will part, if only briefly, to allow your safe passage to the other side.

But don’t dawdle, and per l‘amor del cielo (for goodness’ sake), don’t run. You’ve gotta look like you’re in control or else someone’s foot might get a little heavy at your display of weakness and – POM! The human pizza fate is once again yours.

However…

All of this fuss can be avoided if you can cross in the company of a nun or priest. Italian drivers will sooner crash than harm someone in a habit!

How to Become a Nomad: It Takes a Lot of Planning to Be Carefree

Contrary to popular belief, I don’t just flit around the world on a whim, landing wherever the wind blows me, whenever I get there. My nomadic lifestyle, exciting as it is (at least to me), doesn’t just happen by chance.

It takes a lot of planning to be carefree.

Maybe carefree isn’t the right word. Maybe just “free” is. Or maybe “happy”, or “not worried” or “at peace with whatever the future holds”. Because for me, carefree encompasses all of these things. Some days the mix isn’t quite right, and I’m less happy or less sure or more worried, but in general, this is how it goes for me.

But how is it possible to go through life running around the world, going from job to job and not worry too much about things? Or how is it even possible to do it at all, worried or not?

You’ve got to:

1. Embrace uncertainty. (Don’t worry, be happy!)

Read here if you’re not sure what I’m talking about. In short, start being OK with not knowing what’s going to happen to you or how a certain situation will turn out.

2. Learn all you can about the things that matter. (Knowledge is power.)

You want to live in Lisbon for a month and not worry while you’re there? Figure out what it takes to live in Lisbon for a month. Get on your Google machine and find housing costs, transportation costs, restaurant costs, etc. In this day and age, it’s all out there. This way, you’ll reduce the number of unhappy surprises you encounter.

You want to hop from contract job to contract job? Learn the system. Learn when certain jobs start and finish, in general what they pay, and when you have to apply and be hired for them. I teach ESL in Toronto. I know which schools generally hire when, what they pay, and when the start dates are for their terms. I know which credentials I have to have to be hired. I know when I should expect to hear about my summer employment leading student groups around Europe. I know how much I’ll make, and which of my costs will be covered.

I understand how the system works for the things I like to do, so I can plan for various situations.

3. Don’t grab onto the first shiny thing you see. (Be realistic!)

Just because you do your research and find that there ARE apartments in Lisbon for 200 euros a month, doesn’t mean you’ll want to live in one, and it doesn’t mean one will be available to you. This shouldn’t be what you bank on. Don’t stop your search about the cost of living in Lisbon because you’ve found an answer that suits your budget and feeds your over-optimism. Think about the probability of being able to find a decent apartment for 200 euros a month. Are there many listed? How do they look? If 200E is the middle of the road, chances are good you’ll be able to find something. If you see one hole-in-the-wall apartment listed for 200E, chances are that shouldn’t be what you budget for.

This also applies to the employment system. Just because you apply for a job, doesn’t mean you’ll get it. Just because you know when start dates are, doesn’t mean that’ll help you get hired. However, think about things like this: Have you done this job before? Do you have experience? Do you have relationships with anyone hiring or currently doing that job?  Are they hiring many people, or just one? Have you applied many places (good), or are you putting all your eggs in one basket (bad)?

4. Know your options. (Know your options.)

You’ve embraced uncertainty. You’ve learned all you can about things that matter in your life plan. You’ve put on your realistic glasses and assessed the situation. Now, flesh out as many possible scenarios as you can. Not in a manic, worried way. In a calm, cool, collected and objective way.

This was my thought process in late August. I had just come back from Europe travelling and working for 3 and a half months. I knew I had to attend my best friend’s wedding in New Zealand in December.

I want to go back to teaching at the college where I taught before. I want to save as much money as I can, and I want to leave for my trip across the world in November/December, hitting a few countries. I don’t want to use up my savings. 

Scenario 1: I get the teaching job, save all sorts of money, and everything goes according to plan. Leave for trip in November/December.

Scenario 2: I get a job, but not with the amount of hours I want, which means less money. I save all the money I can and still leave in November/December. I re-evaulate the length of the trip but still go.

Scenario 3: No teaching job for me. I find something else short-term, otherwise I freelance as much as I can and live off of canned beans. I pare down the travel dream, but I still go at least to New Zealand.

Luckily, I landed with scenario 1. However, I had a plan for the three different realities I may have come up against. And if I had ended up with scenario 3, that would have been OK too, because of step number #5.

5. Prepare for your worst-case scenario. (Cushion the fall.)

I’m not saying to always expect your worst-case scenario. You wouldn’t be too happy and carefree then, would you? What I’m saying is to be prepared so that your worst-case scenario  isn’t actually a terrible scenario, just a less-than-ideal one.

For example, if I had ended up jobless and eating canned beans right now, I’ll admit that it wouldn’t have been the highlight of my life. But I still would have been able to see friends and family, be constructive by writing, and stand by my best friend at her wedding across the world.

Why? Because I had money saved up from before, and I have parents who love to have me at home. (Right, Mom?) I wasn’t starting from zero. I know there’s always the possibility that I won’t come back to an open teaching position, or that a surprise expense will launch a sneak attack. I didn’t want to delve into my savings to live off of from September to December and to pay for the NZ trip, but I would have if I had had to, and it wouldn’t have been the end of the world.

Not bad for a worst-case scenario, right?

In this How to Become a Nomad series, many of the things I recommend doing build on one another. Changing your attitude, planning, and having the right outlook are all interrelated, and the success of one of these pursuits affects the success of the others.

How I Became A Nomad

“Oh yeah? Well you’re a nomadic Gypsy!” is a wannabe insult my brother often hurls at me. I say “wannabe” because it’s not really an insult to me, but I know he means it to be a little more derogatory than I take it. I like changing things up, moving around, seeing new things, breaking the routine. I like being a nomad.

I don’t want to cast my dear brother in a bad light here. No, not at all. We get along (pretty) well and have a loving, teasing, bickering older sister – younger brother relationship. (If only he would listen to me more!) But with me at twentysomething and him, still at twentysomething but three years younger, and our being different people and all, we have different ideas about the paths our lives should take.

Recent sibling selfie.

Having recently graduated from college, my brother moved home, bought his dream car (a bright orange, ’69 Chevelle) and took a full time job working in the family business. He’s happy. He’s good at it. He’s needed. He’s got a plan to save for a down payment on a house and wants to buy one when he’s 25 or 26. I’m proud of him.

Now, we’ll take a look at me at his age. I finished school, started this blog and fled to Italy. I came back to Canada with no idea of what I’d do, but with the notion that I needed to find a job. So I found one, in an office. The job was stressless, the pay was decent for entry-level and it had the added bonus of being right across the street from my parents’ house. Ottimo. Great.

So I did that for a year, reading blogs by travel gurus like Nomadic Matt and Chris Guillebeau  when work was slow, slowly becoming bored and feeling trapped behind my desk. Luckily, the universe was on my side. The company downsized and let me go, which I documented here. Around that time, my first magazine article was published here, and I received my first cheque for writing. I took a month off, enjoyed Christmas and then went back to school for a semester to get a certificate in Teaching English as a Second Language. Then the adventure really started.

Saviour on the Spilled Blood, St. Petersburg

I got a  job leading student groups around Europe for the summer and I did a bit of my own travelling. I came back to Canada and started teaching, both ESL and Italian. I did that for 8 grueling months (it’s not that the work was grueling, but the commuting was) and continued to write. In May, I went back for round two of students in Europe, scored a couple more writing gigs and did some more travelling. Now I’m back in Canada, teaching English for four months and preparing for my next trip.

Two Canucks and the Kiwi hot air ballooning in Turkey.

Oh yeah, didn’t I mention it? In December I’m heading across the world to New Zealand to be the maid of honour in my best friend’s wedding. She’s a bit of a Canadian adventurer too. So’s her Kiwi fiancé. (One day I’ll write their story on here and really wow you all).

I’ve currently got a one-way ticket to New Zealand, but it’s not going to stay that way. I wanted to make sure I’d get there in plenty of time for the wedding, so I booked my ticket back in the summer. Now I’m sorting out my travel details. I think I’ll hit up Australia and Hong Kong while I’m away, because, what the heck? Right? Right.

I’ll probably be gone for about 6 weeks, but it could be longer. How do I get this time off? I have a job that fortunately/unfortunately (but more fortunately, at the moment) is done by contract. Yep. 7-week teaching contracts. I’m here for two contracts, then I don’t give my availability for the next one. If I’m back before the start date of the March term, I’ll probably be able to grab some teaching hours then.

But that’ll all go up in smoke if my Italian work Visa comes through. Fingers crossed, and if the gods of bureaucracy smile upon me, I’ll be heading over to Italy in the spring for some undetermined amount of time. Until I get itchy feet again, and feel the need to go somewhere else.

People ask me all the time where I’m off to next and how I can make it all work for me. I’m still muddling through, making mistakes, but, at the moment I’m happy with this “nomadic” life I’ve created. It means I get to do interesting things, in interesting places, with interesting people.

Having a mud bath in Turkey. Photo credit: Lance Jackson

This post is the intro to a short series I’m planning to publish here, entitled How To Become A Nomad (And Not Give Up Everything). I’m aiming to let you in on a few of the tips and tricks I use to juggle my life, pack in all this extended travel and not have to pawn all my possessions. Look for the first installments in coming weeks.