Matador Network's Blog, page 2192

5 challenges when moving off grid

Photo: dawolf-

The central encompassing theme of off-grid life is autonomy. You’re living in a completely self-sustaining habitat that isn’t dependent on any public utilities. Meaning you either do not have electricity, running water, or sewage; or you harness all of these resources independently by using alternative forms of energy — solar, wind, geothermal, micro-hydro. For example, you might not have electricity but you have a fridge that runs on propane. You might not have running water but you have a generator that powers a pump from a well.

There are lots of different ways you can self-sustain and still have access to the luxuries of modern life. However, all of these systems take time and money. Most people who choose to live off-grid go without until it’s feasible for them to put some systems in place. My experience is currently at this beginning stage. I’m going without. My partner and I live as if we were constantly camping inside. We have shelter, a wood cook stove, a cooler, and a quilt.

I don’t think anyone can argue with me on this — living off-the-grid is badass. I won’t lie, that was the main reason I decided to make the jump. But let me tell you, it is difficult.

1. Most people are going to try and change your mind.

When you decide to move off-grid you are making a very brave decision. When you decide to actually tell people about it, you are being even braver. It’s not a mainstream idea. You’re not going to be close to the mall or an acceptable fast-food chain with a drive-thru. Most people will think you are downright wacky. Some might even say you’re “being irresponsible.”

I’m a bartender, so you can imagine I spoke with a few people about my decision to move before I actually did it. It did not take long for me to realize that the general public did not support my decision to live independently. And they were not shy in telling me so. Many people brushed it off as too “romantic,” “whimsical,” one particularly outspoken Republican gentleman in an ill-fitting flannel shirt and Abraham Lincoln beard told me living off-grid today was “not possible.” I’ll also never forget the retired lawyer who absolutely man-splained the shit out of the basic function of a woodstove for me.

“Heating with wood is a nice idea and all, but they’re just not worth it because you have to keep putting wood into them. Someone always has to be home to keep stoking the fire with wood, or else it won’t be warm.” A seriously revolutionary tidbit right there.

Something to understand is that people are very dependent these days on access to public utilities. Every day we depend on companies to power our coffeemakers, to keep our beer cold and our bodies warm. When you tell someone that you want to take control of these things yourself — just for the new experience — they might feel a little threatened by that.

Basically every negative opinion — whether it’s about you making a big life change or not — should be dealt with in the same way: a big F YOU.

2. You’re going to be extremely isolated.

You can live off-grid in a lot of places. Most of them are very rural. You should expect to get lonely sometimes. I currently live in a cabin in rural Maine. The closest bar is 13 miles away and it closes at 8 every night. When I moved out here, I knew I was giving my bar-hopping, miniskirt-wearing, street food-scarfing, 80s night-dancing, Sunday brunch-munching days a rest for a little while. And that’s okay because I actually don’t miss them that much.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned so far, it’s that a support system is a crucial thing to have. I’m lucky to be living off-grid with my partner, who also happens to be a very good friend of mine. So I have someone who will coach me through using our haunted outhouse at midnight, someone who will help me stack wood, and someone who apparently will make out with me. He’s a friend, a worker and a suitor all in one perfectly acceptable human specimen. But even if he’s a triple threat, one person isn’t enough.

What’s great about off-grid life is that it attracts a lot of interesting people to small, close-knit communities. These people know how to party. If you’re new in town, they’ll most likely want to get to know you and they’ll usually bring food. I’ve had people reach out from all ends of this community. More than a couple random strangers have gotten in touch with me just to say: “Hey, heard you moved here. Wanna hang out?”

To which I always reply: “Yes, for the love of fucking God. Yes. Thank you.”

3. Everyday activities are going to become more difficult than usual.

Planning is your friend. There are some questions you’re going to have to answer before you take the leap.

How are you going to refrigerate food, and more importantly beer? I use a cooler with frozen milk jugs in it. I’m able to freeze the jugs at my neighbor’s house and rotate them out. Many people purchase a propane fridge. They’re difficult to find and are pretty expensive (at least $500) but if this is a permanent life change for you, finding one might be a good idea. If you can get your hands on an old camper — something surprisingly easy to get your hands on around here — there might be an adorable little propane fridge in it.

How are you going to cook food? Campfires and camp stoves are two very obvious solutions for cooking. I depend on both of them primarily and use a wood cook stove — circa 1820 — on cold or rainy days.

How are you going to remain a clean and socially acceptable human being? This one was a big source of worry for me — showering. I do all my writing work in a very tiny public library and I bartend a couple times a week in a fairly upscale restaurant. I can’t show up with sap in my hair and ash crusted around my nostrils. I just can’t. So I solved this issue before I actually made the move.

It only took me a couple of hours to read a few blogs and peruse four different Home Depot aisles before I used a garden hose head and a few plumber’s fittings to convert a pesticide sprayer into the most luxuriously pressurized and conveniently portable shower to ever grace this soiled Earth. Whenever I need to take a shower, I heat up a small kettle of water on my camp stove, pour it in, let it cool, pump her up and boom! Almost instant cleanliness. This solution cost me less than $40 and I can get two showers out of 3.5 gallons of water. How’s that for self-sustainability?

4. Some things are going to be too difficult to do alone.

Chores. No one has told me to do my chores since my mom was cutting the crusts off of my cucumber and mayonnaise sandwiches. But since I’ve moved off-grid, chores have all of a sudden become a thing again.

Living this way takes a lot of daily work. We don’t have a well so we haul water from a neighbor’s house. We go through about three 7-liter containers every week and a half. These containers need to be hauled in a garden cart up a hilly gravel driveway, through a large field and down a heavily rooted forest path before they can arrive in our kitchen for our hydrating pleasure. This is a chore that I just cannot do by myself, partly because I cannot physically lift one full container and partly because this job requires a lot of moral support and encouragement.

When you move off-grid you need to accept that this is no time to be a hero. There are just some things you can’t do alone. If I can’t be a natural water-hauler, maybe I can be an all-star woodchopper and resident dishwasher instead. Chores cannot be neglected when you’re depending on yourself to survive. So be aware of your limits, ask for help when you need it and by all means, try not to break a rib.

5. Winter is coming.

If it’s not already here, it’s working on getting here. Do not be the grasshopper who spent the entire summer floating on an inner tub with a couple Twisted Teas in hand and a joint in his waterproof Indiana Jones hat. Plan ahead.

People who choose to live off the grid are natural ants; they’re constantly preparing and storing for winter. The primary source of heat for most people living off the grid is wood. Wood does not cut, split, and collect itself. Propane does not stay at a somewhat affordable price forever. If you want to be successful at this lifestyle you need to be constantly planning ahead and taking advantage of the resources that are available to you now. It’s no joke, when freezing temperatures come around you should expect to be hemorrhaging resources — heat, food, water. And they’re all going to require 50% more energy to access.

So yes, living off the grid is badass. Do it right.

From Staten Island? You'll hate this

Photo: Jose Manuel Gasalla

1. Tell us you’re “sorry” when we say we’re from Staten Island.

I didn’t just tell you my grandmother died. You’re not sorry, you’re condescending. Staten Islanders are proud of where they’re from. Some families have lived here for generations.

This isn’t a place that you move to because it’s sexy. It’s a place people move to in order to make a home, or to maintain the quality of life they had in Brooklyn or other parts of New York City before they became too expensive for poor or middle class New Yorkers to live in.

2. Tell us we’re not part of New York City, or that we only “semi-count.”

Seriously? What the fuck? Like Elmhurst or Marine Park is so much more cosmopolitan? There are nearly half a million people who live on Staten Island. The first Dutch settlement was established here in 1624, 20 years before there was one in Brooklyn.

In fact, Staten Island became part of New York City the same time as Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, and the Bronx in 1898. Over 200 Staten Islanders were killed in the attacks on the World Trade Center on September 11th, but we only semi-count? Whatever.

3. Add to the traffic.

Ask a stranger if they have ever visited Staten Island and they may very well reply, “I think I drove through it once.”

To many, Staten Island is nothing more than a stringy series of highways that connect Brooklyn and the rest of Long Island to New Jersey. And all these interstate travelers and commuters mix daily with school buses and three-car households and the result is crippling traffic. So if you’re going to drive through here, at least get out of your damn car once in a while and get to know this place.

4. Ask us, “What’s that smell?”

First off, the Fresh Kills landfill — one of the few manmade objects visible from space, and Staten Island’s infamous claim to fame — has been closed for almost 15 years. And second, after it closed it was where they transported the debris from the Twin Towers so we could continue to search for the remains of our fallen fellow New Yorkers.

Now it’s being converted into one of New York City’s largest parks. So enough with the “What’s that smell?” comments already!

5. Be a tourist on the ferry.

Every regular commuter likes to think they have their own personal seat, and you are ruining their commute by sitting in their favorite chair.

We are also bemused by the tourists who flock to the west side of the ferry, nearly tipping the boat in their frenzy, to snap a picture of the Statue of Liberty while neglecting the east side of the ferry with its expansive views of the Verrazano Bridge, the Brooklyn waterfront, and Governors Island. But the worst thing you can do is just take the ferry back and forth and never give a second thought to exploring the rest of Staten Island.

6. Say there’s nothing to see or do in Staten Island.

Look, if you’ve only got 48 hours in NYC, then maybe you should use that time to knock Times Square, Central Park, the Statue of Liberty, and all the other “must see” tourist destinations off your list. But if you call yourself a New Yorker and you’ve never seen Staten Island except through the windows of a moving vehicle, well, that just sucks.

Staten Island has a vast park system which includes miles of beaches, woodlands, and salt marshes which are home to an amazing display of biodiversity including rare trees, endangered flowers, herds of deer, wild turkeys, and more.

Historic Richmond Town is a living museum complex that relives 350 years of history and culture. We have our own minor league sports team, the Staten Island Yankees, who play in an amazing waterfront ballpark. There is the Alice Austen House, a tribute to the great, early female photographer. Then there’s the Chinese Scholar’s Garden in the Snug Harbor Cultural Center, a Tibetan art museum, and even a zoo.

And yes, like everywhere else in New York City, we have great pizza and bagels, which are usually better than the generic knock-offs made in Manhattan.

7. Forget about us.

If you really want to know what pisses off a Staten Islander, you’ve got to be familiar with ‘middle child syndrome’. Yeah, we know: mommy loves Billy better. Billy gets all the good stuff and the baby gets all the attention. That’s us. The core of the Staten Island psyche is to believe we are the “forgotten borough,” because, true or not, we believe our sibling boroughs get more of everything.

So while we may have fewer bottomless brunch joints and more registered Republicans than the rest of “The City,” don’t piss us off by insinuating we’re not real New Yorkers. When the rent gets too damn high in Greenpoint and LIC, Staten Island might be one of the few places left where born and raised New Yorkers can actually afford to live.

10 signs your boyfriend is Japanese

Image by Jason Ippolito

1. His handbag matches yours.

You were probably amazed at Japanese men’s chivalry during your first few months in the country. Most of them seem to carry their girlfriend’s or wife’s handbag…at all times! Oh, wait…that’s just because it’s theirs! Just like every other Japanese man (in Tokyo at least) your boyfriend always carries his man-purse around.

2. He spends longer than you getting ready.

Most of the bottles of shampoo, conditioner, treatment, cream, hair gel, and other beauty products in the bathroom are his, and he will use every single one of them, in order, before considering himself ready to go out for dinner. However, he doesn’t mind sporting his old pajamas and flip flops, with his hair up in a whale spout, when he goes to the supermarket…

3. His razors last 20 times longer than yours.

Like most Japanese men, he can’t grow a beard. Maybe if he doesn’t shave for 3 months, he’ll have half a moustache and a hint of a goatee. On the bright side, he won’t cost much in razor blades. But that usually also means that you, the non-Asian girlfriend, are now the hairy one…

4. You now wake up to the lovely fragrance of fermented beans and rice.

Japanese people love eating natto for breakfast. Natto is a very smelly and slimy traditional food made from fermented soybeans. It’s hard to enjoy your toast and coffee when it smells like your boyfriend is eating old roadkill.

5. His “dinner with co-workers” usually means “all-night karaoke.”

First, he will not be able to refuse an invitation from a co-worker, especially if this person has been in the company for longer than him.

He will not be able to turn down the after-dinner drinks at a Japanese-style pub either, or the last hour at the karaoke before going home…well, it’ll only be an hour if no one misses their last train. In that case, camaraderie oblige, everyone has to spend the night in the cramped karaoke room and sing old J-pop tunes until dawn.

6. You will never get a kiss in public.

Many people say that French people sometimes go a little too far when showing affection in public. I mean, there isn’t even a word in the French language for “public display of affection.”

Japanese people are on the other end of the scale. Until a few decades ago, couples would not even hold hands in public. Now, they do, but don’t try to ask your boyfriend for a kiss on the train, on a bench, or at the movies if you don’t want to be rejected out of hand!

7. He won’t get you anything for Valentine’s Day.

In Japan, Valentine’s Day is a big thing. Actually, it’s maybe even bigger than in some Western countries. The problem is that it’s nothing like what you would expect in Europe or in the US. For starters, only women give presents (usually chocolate) on February 14th. And not only to their lovers, but to basically all the men around them, whether at home or in the office.

There are even words showing the difference: On the one hand you have the honmei choco or “true feeling chocolate,” the one you give to your boyfriend or husband. On the other hand, you have the giri choco which literally means “obligatory chocolate.” So you’d better make sure you don’t forget to buy sweets (or even better, bake them) on that day!

Note: girls still get presents, but a month later. On March 14th, so-called White Day is when men are supposed to return the favor!

8. He has already slept on the street and doesn’t think it’s dangerous.

Walk around Tokyo, Osaka, or other big cities in Japan at night, and you will probably come across sleeping men, usually in suits and holding their briefcases, just lying there on the pavement. Taking pictures of these “bodies” is a popular game among travelers and newcomers to the country, but it gets a little more worrying when you realize your boyfriend has been one of those men sleeping in the street at least once before, and maybe not so long ago!

The good news is that Japan is (or at least is close to being) the safest place on Earth, so most people wake up the next morning with all their belongings…the only thing they might have lost is their dignity.

9. You met his parents = you’re engaged.

You’ve been together for a few months now, and think it might be a good time to meet his parents…if you can speak Japanese or they can speak your mother tongue. Now, when you casually say that it would be a good time for a dinner with okaa-san and otou-san (mum and dad), your darling seems a bit reluctant, and starts putting it off.

You might start wondering what’s up with him. Why wouldn’t he be proud to show off how great a girlfriend you are to his parents?! The main reason is that men (and women) don’t usually introduce their partners until they think it is really serious. Many old-fashioned families still see it as a hint that you will be getting engaged soon.

10. You just moved in together = you’re getting married.

You’ve met the parents, and now you’re thinking of moving in together. Not such a big deal in Western countries — I mean, come on, even students do it! But in Japan, you’d better read the terms and conditions at the bottom of the contract, because chances are there’s a clause in small print saying, “By signing this rental agreement, I understand that my boyfriend’s parents are now planning our wedding ceremony, reception, and wondering if our kids will have Japanese or foreign names”.

11 lies you tell yourself

Photo: Bárbara Paz Rebolledo Bustamante

1. I’m gonna learn the language so I can fully immerse myself.

Until you find yourself hopelessly lost in the middle of a place like Lesbos island in Greece, trying to find your way to Sappho Square in Mytilini Town. But nobody speaks a damned word of English, and you’ll literally beg someone to point you in the right direction before you miss your bus, because so far you’ve only managed to master the greeting yassas (hello) despite having been in the country for two months already.

2. I will not get blackout drunk while alone in a foreign country.

Because that’s just an unbelievably stupid idea, and you know it. And then you find yourself making out with a Portuguese man with a funny mole on his chin, in some crowded bar in Athens, while your new hostel friends laugh and gently try to pry you away. You’ll thank them later.

3. I will embrace my aloneness.

You’ll love the solitude and general do-what-I-want attitude, until one evening you find yourself sitting at a café in a plaza in Dubrovnik, underneath the clock tower, watching friends and strangers mingle and laugh with hands clutched around white cups of cappuccino. And you’ll resist the urge to walk up to a table and say, “Hey, can I be your friend?” Because that’s actually not always a great way to make friends.

4. I will not call home crying to my parents.

Until you’re left immobilized with the world’s worst bladder infection after a week sailing the Adriatic Sea, just days before you’re supposed to fly home. And all you want to do is call Mom and have her take care of you and feed you chicken soup instead of sleeping 12-hour days in a loud hostel, in too much pain to even stand upright. Moms just have that touch.

5. I will take more time to reflect, and read, and write.

You’ll find serenity somewhere. You’ll love the gorgeous quiet of life on an olive farm, and beginning your mornings with homemade fig jam and honey from the beehives, and pruning olive trees, and working in the vineyard. And then you’ll spend evenings reading and writing, and loving every second of it, until you just want one week of letting loose and being a stupid, silly backpacking partier because, remember, NOBODY knows you here. Remember? You can take on any persona here.

6. I will stay in shape.

You’ll make a personal promise to download iPhone training apps and yoga video tutorials, and you’ll vow to hike at every possible opportunity or to take up running because it’s really the only way you can work off all those Neapolitan pizzas while travelling in Italy. But instead you tell yourself you walk everywhere while travelling anyway, so surely that must make up for being a lazy blob.

7. I will eat healthy.

You’ll keep this vow for longer than your others, until you realize eating a salad at every meal is a ridiculous notion when there’s a world of grilled meats and cheese pies and spicy curry literally outside your front door. The same goes for alcohol, or local drink specialties. One taste of that Inca Cola and you know you’ll have to drink it every day throughout the duration of your trip to Peru because you may never get to experience it again.

8. I will not fall in love.

Because it’s your time, dammit, and part of the reason you’re travelling solo is because you’re single, and you want to do this while you’re unburdened, unattached, floating free like a balloon in a small child’s hand. Until again you meet that handsome German stranger, and one week later you’re curled up in their arms like a toy poodle.

9. I will fall in love.

And then you decide maybe falling in love on the road isn’t so bad, until it’s time to part ways. And then suddenly it’s, “Holy crap, visas are really hard to figure out,” and, besides, what happens when you spend too much time together and the magic fizzles out quicker than an open bottle of diet cola?

10. I will not be afraid to put myself out there and meet new people.

In actuality, walking into a hostel bar and introducing yourself to a whole crew of new people you’ve never met before but who somehow seem to all know one another is absolutely the most terrifying, panic-inducing thing you’ve ever had to do. And you may require a tall glass of vodka beforehand.

11. I will find myself.

Yeah, you’ll find yourself. You’ll find yourself understanding that travel is quite easy, and even if you don’t make any grandiose self-discovery statements, you’re gonna have a damned good time trying to do so anyway. At least before you head back home to your corner of the universe, back inside the cube or in front of the computer, and you’ll hardly believe you’ve done so much, but the Instagrams prove you did. And then you’ll realize, “I need to do that again.” Over and over again, because travelling solo becomes the addiction, and it’s not a bad habit to have.

8 ways to learn who Chileans are

Photo: Bárbara Paz Rebolledo Bustamante

1. Drink anything but water.

If you’re caught drinking water, Chileans will become very concerned and ask if you’re feeling okay. They’ll even warn you that “agua te hace mal” (water makes you sick). In reality, the tap water in Chile is fine for drinking, but locals have a preference for soda, wine, and liquors such as pisco, chicha, and pipeño.

They’re especially proud of their Cabernet Sauvignon and will often cite Chilean folk singer Tito Fernandez’s song: “Me gusta el vino porque el vino es bueno. Y cuando el agua brota, pura y cristalina, de la Madre Tierra, más me gusta el vino.”

Translation: “I like wine because wine is good. But when I see the water, pure and clear, gushing from Mother Earth, I like wine even more.”

2. Don’t make any sudden noises or movements.

Burping audibly is a faux pas right on par with farting. If you burp audibly in public, you’ll either be teased or glared at and thought of as maleducado (impolite). It’s also considered bad form to stretch or yawn openly in public, and some even suggest retiring to the bathroom for such unsavory bodily functions.

That said, it seems to be forgiven among good friends or family. One night while sitting at the once (tea time) table with my two little host sisters, I felt a burp approaching. The air bubble entered my esophagus and, in slow motion, inched its way up as I prepared to deal with the repercussions. I allowed myself to burp audibly and immediately feigned embarrassment, “Dios mio, I’m sorry!” While they both chuckled a bit, my host sister was very sweet and understanding. “It’s okay, it’s natural,” she reassured me, “It’s nothing bad in this house. We all do it.” And with that burp, I became part of a Chilean family…which everyone knows is the best kind of family there is.

3. Forget Spanish; learn Chilean.

Contrary to the information you gathered from the CIA World Factbook, the official language of Chile is not Spanish; it’s Chilean! Chilean is a variant of Spanish combining modismos (slang), garabatos (profanities), and even the occasional random word derived from the indigenous Mapuche language. In order to speak like a Chilean you must talk quickly, drop consonants, and only pronounce half of each word. Chileans also punctuate each word or sentence with “po” — a filler word with no meaning — and “cachai?” which means roughly “y’know?”

4. Subsist solely on sandwiches and sausages (along with bread and avocados).

When you think of Latin American cuisine, you probably think of ceviche, empanadas, and carne asada. While all of these things are readily available in Chile, Chileans have an overwhelming preference for sandwiches and hot dogs (called completos). Chileans also eat an unprecedented amount of avocados (palta) and bread in various forms (marraquetas, hallullas, pan de molde, pan amasado) and try to incorporate corn (choclo) into any dish they can.

5. Kiss everybody.

In Chile, you always begin and end interactions with people with a kiss on the right cheek. (This is between two women or between a woman and a man. Men greet each other in the emotionally deadened way we’re accustomed to in the US, essentially by yelling, “Yo homo!” at each other while they slap hands.)

The whole kissing thing adds a level of confusion, tension, and excitement to most social interactions. When I walk into the teachers’ lounge in the morning, am I supposed to kiss everyone? Apparently, yes, I am. But I only want to kiss my friends! Then there are other moments when you get lucky, like when you’re leaving a bar and your male friends decide to greet the handsome busboy on the way out. This means a handshake for them, but you, you lucky girl, you get to go in for a cheek kiss!

6. Marry your middle-school sweetheart.

Chile is, at heart, a Catholic country, and the culture here is very much based around mating for life. Even among very young couples in middle and high school, the overarching goal of relationships seems to be to remain together forever. Entering a high-school classroom or taking a walk through a park is like boarding Noah’s Ark — everyone’s paired off.

7. Get in a car with strangers.

Colectivos are a really convenient, economical way to get around certain parts of town, and they’re fun because you get to practice your Spanish with locals. Also, the drivers are always honest. In one of my first colectivo rides from home to work, I was the only person in the car besides the driver. He stopped 10 minutes from my destination, returned my money, and said, “You can walk from here, right? I have to go to the bathroom.”

8. Clog a toilet.

Signs posted in public bathrooms throughout the country will ask you to throw toilet paper in the garbage bin rather than in the toilet. You’ll usually abide by the flyer’s plea, but, like any true Chilean, you’ll occasionally be tempted to throw caution to the wind and throw your paper in the toilet. You’ll inevitably clog it up, and I must warn you that googling “how to fix a Chilean toilet” yields no useful results.

If this happens to you at a friend’s house rather than in a public restroom, you can either ignore it and leave it for the next bathroom user to deal with (which may be how you got into the situation in the first place), or you can have the courage to ask for help, all the while insisting that “it was only a number one.”

13 signs you're from Finland

Photo: Maria Morri

1. You love dark rye bread.

The Finnish ruisleipä might not be legendary in the eyes of foreigners; however, it’s a typical thing you’ll miss when living abroad (what’s with the white fluffy substance the rest of the world consume?). Those who weren’t introduced to it as a child will probably never learn to appreciate it much. You’re just a little bit offended when people don’t immediately see the greatness of this national treasure.

2. You’re so used to paying ridiculous amounts of money for alcohol it’s stopped bothering you.

Whenever you visit a liquor store in a foreign country you can’t believe your luck. Alcohol doesn’t make you happy, but looking at the price of booze abroad might, if only just for a little while. Even sophisticated Finns might catch themselves shouting, “Can you believe these prices?” in an Estonian supermarket.

3. You’re obsessed with what foreigners think about you and your country.

If you’re lucky enough to run into a foreigner on the streets of a Finnish city, you simply must know what they think about you. Should an American visit Finland, they’re guaranteed to be asked the question, “What do you think about us?” This is a sign of low national self-esteem. The Finns want approval and won’t brag about their achievements easily.

4. You live next to Russia, but you’ve never set foot there.

You’re happy to accept the existence of this giant beyond the eastern border but aren’t willing to do much more. You might not know much about the country and feel you should learn more, yet you end up spending your holidays elsewhere year after year. And their alphabet just puzzles you.

5. You think your English is subpar.

Most Finns will compare their English to other Finns’, not other Europeans’. This leads to absurd situations where you’ll, with your perfect English, apologize for your bad English to someone whose mother tongue IS NOT English.

6. You think Moomins are the best thing since Shakespeare.

They’re big, white, and philosophical in an everyday manner. You own a dozen expensive mugs with pictures of them. You can’t comprehend why everybody doesn’t simply love them. Most Finns have an answer ready to the question, “Which Moomin character do you most resemble?”

7. The ice-bucket challenge doesn’t impress you.

Cold water is no stranger to you as seawater temperatures rarely reach levels to brag about, and swimming naked is part of your daily routine. Seeing people pour ice-cold water on themselves makes you think, “Refreshing!” not, “Courageous!”

8. You’re only interested in sports when you realize your country might actually win something; i.e., you’re only interested in hockey.

Let’s face it, a small country like ours can only really be good at a few sports. So why not pick one that’s seriously played in about four other countries? Gold medal here we come!

9. The cold and dark winter surprises you every year.

You moan about the winter until it’s over and then forget about it until next winter. Then you start moaning again. You sometimes plan to move somewhere where it’s warmer but quickly realize the only countries you’d deem acceptable to live in are Nordic, and that sure won’t solve your problem.

10. You think getting drunk with someone is the only true way of getting to know them.

You like talking to other Finns when you’re sober but secretly feel you’re only getting skin deep with them. You really want to reach a level of honesty that comes out after that seventh drink. After that, we’re really sharing some good stuff!

11. You feel that not having a summer house is a synonym for homelessness.

You’re surprised to hear that some countries consider summer houses a fancy of the elite. For you, it’s kind of like having a normal house, just a less modest one by the sea. You didn’t buy your summer house and don’t know what they cost. It just was there when you were born.

12. You make fun of the Swedes but secretly admire everything they do.

You mock the way they talk, the way they don’t say things straight, the way their meetings drag on. On the other hand, you like their fashion, their music, their politics, and everything about Stockholm.

13. You’re not surprised to run into top politicians on the street or in the bus.

Oh, there’s the president reading the paper. And there’s the prime minister on a bike. Now let’s get on with work.

15 millennials talk travel money

Photo: Runa Fjellanger

The millennial generation is attracting a lot of attention. Some reports claim that we lack the necessary attitude for “job success.” We struggle with work ethic. We’re not motivated. These claims aren’t exactly groundbreaking — older generations have been criticizing younger generations since the beginning of mankind — but they do speak to our ability to shake things up. Especially when it comes to living the life we want, uninhibited by the typical 9-to-5 work schedule.

A survey conducted by Expedia found that millennials travel for leisure more than any other generational group. So how are we able to do it? According to these millennial-age MatadorU students and faculty, travel and work don’t have to be two separate things.

1.

“On a long meandering route southward from Alaska, I worked with a rag-tag band of women hawking massaging pillows and cheese graters to pay for gas money. I’d spend 12-hour days working alongside a 65-year-old whose dietary intake consisted of a cocktail of psychotropic drugs and lukewarm cans of Coca Cola. Even still, the home and gift shows were spread out across the West coast, and in between, I was free to camp amongst the redwoods of Northern California, explore the breweries of Denver, and soak in the hot springs of New Mexico. Selling Chinese-made crap certainly didn’t feel glamorous, but it got me to my next destination, and that was all I really wanted.” Carleen Krug

2.

“I work a six weeks on and three weeks off rotation as a field engineer on an oil rig in the Gulf of Guinea (West Africa). Those six weeks on are long 12-hour days for seven days a week, but those three weeks off are mine. They come with a plane ticket anywhere I want to go. It’s just a matter of deciding where I am going next.” Jennifer Melroy

3.

“I work for a company that does scientific research in different countries around the world. We work with volunteers together, train and conduct research relevant to each area. So far I have worked in Thailand, Ecuador and Costa Rica with them. While working, they cover room and board in very basic accommodations and though they don’t pay a lot, it’s enough to jump to the next place!” Sateesh Venkatesh

4.

“My boyfriend and I decided to make travel a priority about three-ish years ago. At the time we were doing the cubicle thing full-time in Seattle and we weren’t too happy with our future options. We each had jobs that we didn’t love, so our options were to either (a) just deal and keep going, or (b) find new jobs. So, we made a third option for ourselves: travel. It took us about 1.5 years of working and saving to amass enough money that could sustain us for at least a year. Then we quit our jobs and took off. While traveling, we volunteered through HelpX and Workaway as a way to keep costs down, and we always looked for hostels with kitchens so that we could cook as much as possible.

“Basically, we’re kind of back where we were three years ago. Travel is still very much a priority, but we need to save up a bit more before we can take off again. So, I’m temping (ugh) and working on building my writing portfolio for freelancing gigs. He’s working a part-time graphic design gig and also building his portfolio. I’m also trolling the “Etc.” section of Craigslist, looking for the odd one-off job or marketing survey (I once made $75 for just trying on some jeans!). We’re also looking for regular jobs as a way to make more money faster, but looking for jobs is tough when you’re not so sure how long you’ll be around. We’re very much in a transitional period right now, but travel is our motivation and the light at the end of the tunnel.” Gina Corsiglia

5.

“Before packing my life into a backpack and taking trains around the United States for two and a half months, I nannied full-time for six months to earn my travel money. While on the road, I wrote for Listverse, which pays $100 per article and can be about pretty much anything you want. They’re easy to write and, as most of you know, getting out and traveling is one of the best sources for information, so the ideas came relatively easy to me. I rarely ate out and cooked mostly in the kitchens provided by hostels and my hosts from Couchsurfing, which was one of the best experiences of the whole trip. Getting to meet fellow travelers who are generous enough to let you sleep on their couch? Amazing props to humanity for that one.” Shannon Gadberry

6.

“I teach English in South Korea and do private English lessons online. I also blog and do a ton of freelance writing to help pay for my trips.” Meg Ten Eyck

7.

“My earliest trips were funded by amazing family/friends/church as I did lots of volunteering, mostly with Habitat for Humanity. Then I realized if you lead the team, your flight is covered. So when I turned 25 (the age required) I did the Habitat for Humanity training. My husband and I have led teams with them since, covering nearly all our costs and fundraising just a little bit of what isn’t. Some people scoff that the leader’s flights are provided from the funds of the team but the truth is – planning, executing, and physically leading a team is exhausting. All the volunteering and team leading is part of what led me to my position now, at The Giving Lens, planning, executing, and often leading international travel photography workshops (with a humanitarian focus). And because I can work from anywhere — not only with The Giving Lens, but also Matador Network, MatadorU, and as a freelancer (which really just means I have about 6 jobs) — I don’t necessarily have to go home. It’s an exhausting but pretty excellent set-up.” Kate Siobhan Mulligan

8.

“This summer I traveled to Macedonia for a month, and I was able to survive because I worked night shifts in a hostel. It was a great deal. In addition to all the people I met working there, I had free accommodation and breakfast, and also every type of delicious fruit the hostel garden provided. I could say this was my first big trip, and even if I didn’t become richer, I’m proud to think I became a little bit wiser. Right now, I am in my country again, ready to study to be a Spanish language teacher. Hopefully in the future, between the hostel opportunities, the Spanish classes, and the freelance writing, the travels will keep coming.” Marco Delgado

9.

“Currently, I’m driving for Uber in my free time. It’s an exciting way to make money because I’m with new people in an intimate setting about every 10-15 minutes. It’s completely random, always a little nerve-wracking, and usually enjoyable. The people that I meet are either really caring and friendly and try to have conversations with me, or they are completely unaware that I’m in the vehicle and proceed on to conversations with their fellow passengers. The things I’ve heard and learned are crazy/laughable/shocking but always allow me a unique perspective to take home for the night.” Tanner Saunders

10.

“In the past I’ve taught English in South Korea, and currently I’m living in Canada and working. I tend to live frugally and save as much as I can while working in one place, and then leave to travel for several months. I’m working on coming up with a solution that allows me to live and work independent of location.” Marie King

11.

“In the past, I travelled a lot thanks to my parents. My mother was a travel agent for quite a large part of my life so she knew the tricks of the trade. In addition, my parents funded a few of my trips with People to People Student Ambassadors — which is a group of students traveling to learn about other cultures and to promote peace (P2PSA was founded by President Dwight D. Eisenhower). With People to People I travelled to Asia, Southeast Asia, and Antarctica. After graduating from high school, I decided to move abroad and go to University in Spain for four years, where I studied, worked in a library, and taught English/babysat. In my free time, I travelled around Spain and went to Italy and Morocco. Sometimes I had a class that required me to travel to Brussels or to southern Spain (Cordoba, Granada). Furthermore, during my last year at Uni, I asked to be a class photographer so I went on day trips from my school for free, in exchange of pictures to be used on their website.

“In each of these experiences, I’ve met amazing people whose friendship is going to last me a lifetime. And the best part is that they’re from all over the world, so if I ever travel to their cities, we can grab coffee. Now I’m working at a bank, trying to save money for emergencies and for future trips. I might be taking on a second job while I try to open up my own freelance photography business. I’m realising that the whole 9-5 lifestyle is not for me, and am trying to get out of it as soon as possible.” Adrienne Bednarz

12.

“I had a full-time job and I was always traveling for work. Every time I had to go somewhere, I took some extra days off to explore the area. Apart from the travel trips, I was allowed to have a month off per year so I would travel twice a year for 15 days each trip.” Ana Gusso

13.

“I’ve usually paid for travel by trying to overlap it with my job or school. In college, I studied abroad in Stockholm, since it was the same cost as staying at my home institution, and I explored Europe cheaply from there via trains and RyanAir/EasyJet. I was in a PhD program in Leipzig, Germany for a couple years, which allowed me to explore Germany and Europe, and as a field biologist, I got to spend a few months in Ethiopia collecting samples for my PhD research project. Now that I’m back in the States, I plan visits to friends I’ve made during my travels, which eliminates hotel costs, and I try to attend conferences in interesting places (since school or work will often offset some of the attendances costs). If I have to pay for lodging, I stay in a hostel or camp. I’m currently in medical school and have a strong interest in global health, so I hope that my job will continue to take me to new and interesting places.” Vanessa Van Doren

14.

“The summer before I moved to France to teach English last year, I nannied full-time to earn extra travel money. Once I was working in France, I received a monthly stipend and tutored in my free time. Plus, I cooked all my own meals, walked everywhere, and cut down on café stops or nights out to save money. At the end of my 7-month contract, I had enough money saved to travel for another two months in the south of France with a very comfortable budget. Workaway is also a great travel resource that I’ve looked into but haven’t personally experienced yet. The site sets you up with free accommodations all over the world in exchange for part-time work!” Paige Smith

15.

“I made travel a priority. It would come down to something like this: “Hmmm, for the price of a Coach bag, I could fly to Charleston and visit my friend” or “This week I’ll cook for myself so that the $100 I save in groceries can go towards dining out in London.” It was a total psychological thing but I knew that the only way I’d get anywhere was if I paid for it myself!” Katka Lapelosová

7 lies you tell yourself when you go back to waiting tables

Photo: Daveblog

1. This is only temporary.

This will also be the ninth year running that you’ve claimed that.

2. You’re not going to sleep with anyone from the kitchen.

Everyone who works in a kitchen is either a musician, recovering / current addict, person who “missed their calling”, or all three. Kitchen workers are rarely shy and they rarely turn down a chance to tell you what your ass looks like in a polyester tuxedo.

There’s a strange sexual tension that occurs within the confines of a kitchen — apparently anything can be said in the presence of a lot of knives. Your line-cook friend once gave you, the dishwasher, and the guy on pantry, an intimate first reading of her lesbian erotica memoir — right next to the frialator during happy hour.

You know from experience that on the last hour of your third swing shift, nothing will seem sexier to you than an ex-con in loosely fitted, checkered pants. But be warned, when you get him out of the walk-in cooler and into your apartment, he’ll suddenly look like a pale, squishy alien in street clothes, lost without access to a stainless steel appliance. You’ll start wishing he’d get out of your bed and get going on that caprese salad you requested.

3. Goddammit, you’re going to save all that money this time.

But every server knows the most reasonable reward for serving drinks is drinking drinks. And expensive body-care products. Lots of overpriced body-care products.

4. This will be a great networking opportunity!

You’ll get the chance to rub shoulders with some big-wigs, some fancy-pants execs, some hot-shot superstar independent film extras, while they feast on slow-braised beef short rib and continue to drop their napkins on the floor.

You know the drill. You know this tuxedo-clad publisher is only speaking to you — the less-flattering-tuxedo-clad waitress — because the rest of his table is occupied with Instagraming their steak tartar. You’ll get to chatting. You’ll impress him with your ability to recommend the perfect vintage of Garnacha for his feta-topped lamb burger on housemade brioche bun. But when he asks what you do outside of “your work,” don’t mistake his slight interest in the “sudden fiction” writing course you’re currently taking through Adult Ed as actual interest in the piece of fiction you suddenly wrote after a bottle of table red and one too many Gillian Welch albums.

The only time this person is actually going to use your business card — the one highlighting your vague “freelance writing” career and questionable “leather working” business — is when he pulls it out to section off lines of coke at his Kennebunkport summerhouse later that evening. And no, you won’t be invited.

5. You really appreciate food. That’s why you’re here.

Do you really care about the exact spice combination in that Korean barbecue sauce, though? Are you actually going to memorize what the charcuterie plate is today? Do you even know / give a fuck about what a béchamel sauce is?

Probably not. To all those questions: Probably. Fucking. Not.

6. You’ll have seniority.

Even if your resume boasts 10 years in the service industry, the 23-year-old sous chef is still going to address you as “muffin.” Until you start addressing him as “limp dick,” then he’ll stop addressing you altogether and your extremely complicated staff meal — made up entirely of substitutions — will be discontinued.

7. You can work with anybody.

“I’m like ginger ale. I mix with everybody!” you inform the manager in your interview. (Your grandmother told you to say that. She really wants you to land this “networking opportunity in disguise.” She hasn’t given up on you yet.)

When you’re hired, that same manager will suggest — on a slow Tuesday night in January — that you work harder to “sell more cups of coffee!”

“Don’t forget the garnish! It’s the most important part of the drink!” she’ll chirp when you’re in the midst of slicing a lime. When she pops over to you at a table and loudly whispers in your ear to “really give those toilet bowls a good scrubbing!” you’ll realize that — sorry Grammy — you’re not fucking ginger ale.

Read before partying in Mexico City

Photo: Francisco Lurcovich

1. The party starts early.

Mexican pre-party is know as precopeo, literally “pre-cupping.” We gather at a friend’s place or small bar to get a little bit woozy and ready for the night. Precopeo has several benefits: avoiding the traffic inferno that is Mexico City every Friday afternoon, saving some money (since drinking in a club can be quite expensive), and getting to know your party mates better in a more relaxed and conversation-friendly environment than a thumping bar or nightclub.

But beware: overindulging in this practice could end up in you missing the big party altogether. Too much precopeo is the main reason people don’t make it to the party.

2. And will continue until sunrise.

After the precopeo the party can go through several stages: a party or a club, another party, maybe another club, tacos, the Sanborn’s bar, an after-hours club, more tacos, and home (this is not necessarily your own place and doesn’t mean the night is over). It’s not a rule of thumb but we do love to jump from place to place in search of the best spot to be at that exact moment of the night. Two in the morning is a good time to evaluate the night so far (if things have been lame so far it’ll hardly get better) and decide if you’ll keep it up until the morning comes, or if it’s time to kiss everyone goodnight and head to your bed.

3. The weekend begins on Thursday.

Some people in Mexico even refer to Thursdays as “little Fridays” or juebebes, a hybrid of jueves (Thursday) and beber (to drink). Absenteeism in universities and failure to return to the office from lunch on Fridays are typical signs of people suffering from a severe case of little Friday.

4. Know your options.

Partying in Mexico City shouldn’t be restricted to your typical clubs and bars. A night out could easily lead you to a dancing club with a live orchestra playing Cumbia and salsa, where some old woman will try to convince you to buy her drinks in exchange for being your dance partner for the night (the traditional fichera). Or you could find yourself in a trajinera in Xochimilco, trying to figure out how you ended up partying in a boat in the middle of a lake. There is an option for even the strangest tastes, so find a place that suits you well.

5. We cater to really strange and peculiar tastes.

Do you know there is a Chinese restaurant near San Ángel that late at night goes wild and becomes kind of a clandestine dance hall? What about this hidden bar in Polanco, which you can only enter through a door disguised as a restaurant fridge? And that pulqueria in Centro that is is all about political activism? Have you explored the Zona Rosa thoroughly? Does the name Patrick Miller sound familiar to you? Have you ever been in a mariachi party in Garibaldi? There is a perfect place for you out there. Now, go out and look for it!

6. Everything’s better if you dance.

The best places for having a hell of a time in Mexico City involve dancing in one way or another. Go ahead and start practicing your best moves in front of the mirror and get ready for your next appointment with the dance floor!

7. Don’t get hung up on tequila.

Try some of our other local beverages like mezcal, pulque, or charanda. Also try going local with beers and wines (and with local beer I don’t mean Corona). I strongly recommend a visit to a traditional pulquería for authentic pulque. You’ll either love pulque or hate it (which is pre-Hispanic, by the way), but you shouldn’t miss the experience.

8. You don’t even have to drink.

If you don’t drink alcohol, try some of our ubiquitous aguas frescas (hibiscus, tamarind, horchata or lime with chía) or search for a place that sells some of our less known traditional beverages: atole, tepache, pozol, tejuino and tascalate. Some of these beverages are not from Mexico City, but you can find them and you should definitely try them.

9. We got your munchies covered.

If you’re known for your good appetite, a cantina should be the perfect place for you. Cantinas will find a way into your heart through their policy of free “snacks.” Don’t be fooled by the word, these snacks are far from your usual peanuts and olives. How does a shrimp soup with your first drink sound? And just like in your wildest dreams, the more you drink, the more options you’ll have to continue your feeding frenzy. Cantinas are a tradition in Mexico City and most of them have quite some history behind them, so go on and pay a visit to one of these singular establishments — it’s totally worth it.

10. Plan a safe return home.

Mexico City never sleeps, but finding safe transportation in the middle of the night could require some effort. Your best option to avoid any kind of trouble is to get a hold of a taxi company number. Hailing a taxi from the street is not recommended, especially if it’s late at night and you’re on your own. Also, some parts of the city can be quite inviting for late night walks, which is fine, as long as you know exactly where you’re going. Getting lost in the city is not difficult at all, and let’s just say there are some places where you don’t really want to be at three in the morning.

11. Don’t worry, there’s a special menu for your hangover.

We are experts in hangover treatments. For generations we have learned to identify those specific meals that work miracles against those nasty alcohol side effects and the big rule is: the spicier the better. That’s why spicy soups (pancita, birria, consome) and other chili-based dishes (chilaquiles fucking rule for this purpose) are mandatory for the morning after.

If you’re feeling brave, you’d better order a michelada beer to accompany that hot lunch. The best micheladas are also the most baroque: lots of lemon, salsa, salt, maybe some tomato-clam juice, soy sauce, and plenty of whatever we think combines with an early beer (no lemon slice on top though). This is probably a good time for you to take that excursion to the nearest cantina…just saying.

Epic skiing and riding at Whistler

A 5-video series in which adventurer, travel writer, and TV host Robin Esrock joins infamous Whistler Insider Feet Banks for a whirlwind tour of the best that Whistler has to offer.

EPISODE 2 takes on two mountains, 8,100 acres, and 200+ runs. Yes, it pays to have a guide. Feet Banks leads Robin Esrock on a whirlwind highlight tour of both Whistler and Blackcomb Mountains, and meets an Olympic celeb along the way.

* * *

This video is proudly produced in partnership with our friends at Tourism Whistler. Visit their site to watch the entire Insider’s Guide to Whistler series.