Debt. It’s the American way. It’s just something that we accept – right?
For many years, I did just that. I accepted that I was going to be in debt and I would try my best each month to pay off those credit cards, school and car loans, and at the same time pay for food, gas, and other essentials an adult needs to live a simple lifestyle.
Seven years ago, I was enjoying a successful career in the music business. As life would have it, things changed and I was faced with a fact that my music job was going away and the prospect of finding another job was very slim.
So I made a decision to change my career. I would go back to school and become a teacher.
I began working as a teaching assistant in Los Angeles Unified Schools. Reality set in when my income dropped dramatically – I was now making $9.75 per hour.
I had no health insurance. I had to pay for tuition and books. I had no savings. I couldn’t pay my rent. I began dipping into my retirement account and I used my credit cards.
Fast forward three years. I’m out of school. I get a great job in Northern Virginia as a teacher. I’m finally making a decent salary but again reality sets in. My retirement account was emptied by my move across the country.
I soon found that at the end of each month, I was using my credit card for basic living expenses – like food and gas to get to work. Before I knew it, I had $30,000 in credit card debt and $30,000 in school loan debt.
I was only paying the interest on my credit cards (about $500 each month). There was no way my credit cards were going to ever be paid off unless I won the lottery or someone died and left me a mess of cash.
The stress of this sent me into a depression that I didn’t understand at the time. It was as if I was being strangled each day and I didn’t know how to get or where to turn.
I went to see a lawyer. He was very kind and said, “You’re right. You do not have enough money to live with these credit card payments.” He advised bankruptcy. This wasn’t something I wanted to do. Only losers declare bankruptcy, right?
Loser or not, I decided to go down that road. Now, two years later, I feel it was the right decision. The pressure I felt each month was gone. I no longer had credit card payments, and my school and car loans were manageable. The feeling of being a loser began to disappear.
Of course, there’s a bit of a lifestyle change when a person files bankruptcy. There is no “using my credit card”. My credit union, God bless them, gave me a credit card with a $2,000 limit.
For the most part if I cannot pay cash for something, I go without. I cannot travel much, and although I’ve never had an extremely extravagant life style, I am very careful to stay on budget. As a teacher I get a small raise each year, and my hopes of being able to save some money were actually beginning to blossom. All is good, yes…?
This summer there was a terrible flood and I lost just about all of my worldly possessions. They don’t tell you, but renter’s insurance only pays out about half of the value of the items to be replaced.
The other half came out of my pocket. Soon, my $2,000 credit card was up to the limit. I took this in stride, paying as much as possible each month, thinking that all would be ok.
It hasn’t been. Things needed replacing, and other life things happen, and I haven’t paid off my $2,000 credit card. Again, I kept telling myself all would be fine; I would just have to be careful each month until my credit is paid off.
And the topper. Last Friday I went down to my car to go to work and discovered that all the tires and wheels of my car were stolen. My car was literally sitting on the ground.
When I saw my car I just thought, “You’re kidding me…this seriously isn’t happening.” I now have to come up with $500. Winter is coming, all of my warm clothes were destroyed in the flood, and I’m not sure what I will do. I cannot charge these expenses. What will I do?
Things like this happen to people each day. I cannot be bitter or feel sorry for myself. I’m not sure what I can do…just have faith that I’ll be OK.
I went to school on Friday, finding comfort in my 6th graders’ smiles. That’s what I focus on. My students and work. Maybe that’s the real American Way. I focus on the good in my world, my work, my friends, and bottom line, it isn’t as bad as it seems. Life always moves on.
Learn to make this traditional Mexican folk art for memorializing the dead.
Not just a tattoo motif for 20somethings, sugar skulls play a significant role in Mexico’s holiday of remembrance, Dia de Los Muertos. If you’re looking for a creative and tangible way to honor your departed loved ones, consider making this unqiue effigy.
Note: Drying times/ amount of water needed vary depending on humidity in your area and size of molds—the following directions are for extra large sugar skulls and a Mediterranean climate zone.
Mix
Ingredients: granulated sugar, meringue powder (can be purchased at baking supply shop), and water
-Mix one teaspoon of meringue powder per cup of granulated sugar. You’ll need around 4 cups of sugar for one skull.
-Add at least one teaspoon of water per cup of sugar mixture until it reaches the consistency of wet sand—you should be able to hand mold shapes that retain their definition.
-Once the two skull pieces feel dry enough to handle, scrap out the insides, leaving an inch thick perimeter—like a brain cavity.
-Let dry for around three more hours
-Using royal icing, glue the two skull hemispheres together, making sure to wipe off any excess icing at the seam. It should dry relatively quickly—maybe an hour or two at the most.
Grease down the chain, tune up the gears, and strap on a helmet. It’s time to go riding!
October 15 was the second annual National Ride to Work Day in Australia. The state of Victoria has been at it for 14 years, but the event has now gone nationwide. National Ride to Work Day is designed to promote awareness of this green and healthy alternative mode of transportation.
Last year 25% of registered riders on National Ride to Work Day were first-timers. Of those freshmen, 29% were still riding to work five months later.
More stats from last year’s event: 299,151 kilometers were diverted from cars to bikes and the atmosphere was spared an estimated 89.17 tons of greenhouse gases.
The numbers don’t lie: the program works.
Making the move
National Ride to Work Day was the perfect opportunity to make my move from train to bike; the last step in my transportation Green Revolution.
I’m no stranger to cycling. I don’t have a car, so if I’m not on a tram, you can find me pedaling down the street with a pannier full of fresh fruit or my tennis rackets slung over my shoulder.
I’ve always thought that biking to work would be a big headache. Lugging around a change of clothes, showering at work, and changing again to ride home didn’t appeal to me. How would I find it?
I discovered I can cycle in the same time it takes to catch a train and amble into the office. And what a way to kick off the day. Who needs coffee? After a quick shower I felt refreshed and energized.
Bike routes and cycle lanes are examples of how cities can show they are serious in coaxing people out of their cars. Melbourne is great in terms of room for bikes on city roads.
But despite dedicated lanes and pathways, most locals will tell you it’s dangerous to ride a bicycle. Why is that?
Crash course in bike safety
When I lived in Vancouver I knew an avid cyclist. One day he kissed his wife and newborn son goodbye and said, “I’ll be back shortly”. Next thing he knew he was in the hospital.
Someone blindly opened a car door as he was cruising by. He caught the corner of the door with his chest, opening a gaping wound, and flew before breaking his wrist on impact with the road.
A couple k’s faster, a few inches to the right, and who knows how it would have ended. He was indeed a lucky man.
We don’t need no education
Apart from providing a strip of asphalt, more should be done to ensure that riders make it safely to and from the office. Driver (re)education and awareness are needed. Right now, biking in the city is akin to those cop training simulations in Police Academy films.
But instead of cardboard pop-ups, it’s a ton of metal on wheels. You’re rolling ahead cautiously and out of nowhere, BAM! a parked car’s door swings open, or ACK!, you’re almost sideswiped as a driver fails to shoulder check.
The fact is: many drivers don’t respect cyclists. They do things like speeding by and then cutting you off to make a turn. My personal favorite is when they pull out from behind and gun it past rather than passing cautiously. I can imagine their thoughts as they white-knuckle the steering wheel: “Please don’t hit him, please don’t hit him.”
In the same breath, I will also berate riders who don’t respect the rules of the road. Acting unpredictable, swerving between vehicles, and blocking traffic unnecessarily are behaviors that drive motorists mad. We all have a part to play in keeping the relationship amicable.
Who we can learn from
In countries like France, Spain, and Italy, cyclists are revered. In the French countryside, you can’t drive a few clicks without a road sign reminding drivers to give riders a wide berth.
Motoring through the Pyrenees you will encounter groups of cyclists. No one passes them unless it is absolutely safe. Cars line up like a slow road train and follow the pack, but patience rules here. There’s no honking or fist-shaking. Vehicles and bikes live in harmony.
It’s imperative that the culture in bike-unfriendly cities changes. No one should have to feel scared they’re going to meet their maker while they’re simply making a right turn.
Despite the inherent danger of being on the road with cars, bicycling is a relatively safe activity. In the end it is up to you to be vigilant on the road.
Obey the rules, stay alert, be visible, and please…WEAR A HELMET.
From a financial perspective, it is also worthwhile. I save $1,456 per year in transit costs by riding my bike. If you pay for hot water, have the company foot the bill by showering at work. If you go to the gym solely for a cardio workout, cancel your membership.
It is a rewarding mode of transport. Your body will thank you. The earth will thank you. I’m sure even drivers will thank you; after all, they are one car closer to work in the traffic jam.
If the option is there for you, I say ride with it!
“The textures and colors of the land bring me back to this local place, this base layer of home that I simply can’t peel away.”
We pull off the highway through a quaint 19th century town called Cambridge, where the buildings still have the flat brick storefronts of an early frontier town, and people’s accents have a country twang to them—not quite Southern, not Minnesotan either; distinctly Ohioan.
We get pie at Theo’s Diner. One slice of chocolate peanut butter and one of cherry, both smothered in whipped cream. It is delightfully in defiance of the food pyramid and the paranoid foodie trends of the nation’s urban centers.
The waitress calls me “Sweetie” and looks concerned when I don’t finish the last bite. She’s got on pale blue jeans and her hair is a bright blond and all styled up in case some cute farmer, trucker, or local boy comes in looking for something other than pie. She is all business at work, dishing out and picking up hamburgers and fries and sides of green beans and mashed potatoes, all with a red-lipsticked local smile, and that Ohio twang.
As we pull out of Cambridge, we enter the county roads, where we’re occasionally stalled behind an Amish buggy trotting along at a 19th century pace. We take in the pastures where the goldenrod and Queen Ann’s Lace of summer are beginning to fade, and the grasses are taking on the rusty colors of fall.
There are cows and horses grazing in the distance, and the textures and colors of the land bring me back to this local place, this base layer of home that I simply can’t peel away, no matter how many other homes I accumulate on the road. This time I am coming back from a year in Beijing, and I am in need of my family and Ohio’s solitude and anonymity.
I know tonight we will sit on the front porch, and watch the sky darken pink to blue to midnight over the pastures to the sound of crickets. Maybe the neighbors will come by with salsa they have canned, or a few ears of corn, and we’ll chat for a few minutes about their new dog and my trip to China.
When it gets dark, it will get cold, the first delightful chill of fall before the serious cold of winter. We’ll go inside, and snuggle into our beds in the silence of that deep Ohio night, lost somewhere in the middle, in the heart of it all, which no one knows about and where no one seems to go.
Primal House member Quinner, another day at the office. Photo courtesy of Tal Fletcher.
Ever wonder where Red-Bull athletes come from? Back in the mid 90s there was a house in Squaw Valley, California. They called it the Primal House.
1. The Coin Toss — 1993
Dan Osman. Flag.
Six months after graduating from high school, Tal Fletcher sat at the bar in the Beer Garden in Squaw Valley, California, drinking Milwaukee’s Best. The bar was below street level, windowless and dimly lit.
The in-house band, The Beer Gardeners, cranked through covers of the Stones, Credence, Dylan, sometimes hitting just the right combination of pitch and volume so that the old-school ski posters buzzed on the walls.
Nearly everyone there had come off a shift working somewhere on the mountain. They still had on work clothes, work boots, ski boots, Gore-tex jackets duct-taped together. The drinking and lounging was mostly relaxed, with stories of the day’s accidents, mishaps, or particularly good runs recounted over mugs of beer.
Tal was there on a coin toss. After graduating from Redwood High School in Marin County, California, in 1993, he flipped a quarter. Heads, he’d go to college, either at U.C. Davis or U.C. Santa Barbara. Tails, he’d move up to Tahoe and try to get on the ski patrol at Squaw Valley. But even as the coin spun through the air, he thought if it landed heads he’d have to go two out of three.
He didn’t have to: it landed tails.
Miles D skyaking
Tal went to a job fair in Tahoe and learned that his training and experience weren’t enough for one of the highly coveted spots on the patrol. Through his climbing experience, however, as well as his E.M.T. certification, Tal got a job at Bungee Squaw Valley, complete with a ski pass. He moved to Squaw that summer.
The bartender at the Beer Garden, Jimbo, casually pulled draughts—many into personalized mugs—then slid them down the bar. As always, he was sporting his mad scientist glasses, Ray Ban Wayfarers, only with clear, coke-bottle lenses. On anyone else they would’ve looked ridiculous, but on Jimbo they seemed to fit, reflecting, it seemed, his intense vision of the world.
Jimbo ran an outfit called Primal Instinct, which specialized in secret bungee jumps, oftentimes hitting local bridges late at night wearing all black gear and face paint.
Tal kept drinking and snacking on free peanuts, adding to the mountains of shells that would cover the floor of the Beer Garden by night’s end. He noted that for some of the more dedicated ski bums, the peanuts were dinner.
He watched the mugs sliding by. You had to show commitment, good attendance to get your own mug. But for regulars who didn’t have one yet, or for friends and special guests, there was also “the floater.” Tal had been putting in a fair amount or hours in the Beer Garden since moving to Squaw.
“Hey!” Tal had to shout to get the bartenders’ attention. “Can I get the floater?”
Tal glanced at the floater once more, then watched the other bartender lean over to Jimbo and say something. Then Jimbo turned and looked through his thick lenses.
“I don’t know that guy,” Jimbo’s voice rose over the music.
Shit. Tal felt the blood drain out of his face. But then he thought: that’s o.k. I have to earn it.
2. 1993-1997 – The Primal House
Gambler and MC
Over the next three years, Tal would end up spending many nights couch-surfing at Jimbo’s house, the Primal House. Eventually he’d move in, becoming one of the more than 50 people that for at least a few months paid rent there. At any given time, the three-bedroom A-frame housed Jimbo and several roommates, plus Boing, Jimbo’s big German Shepard, and usually two or three other dogs.
The two-car garage was full of every toy imaginable—bungee jumping and climbing equipment, backcountry gear, skis, snowboards, helmets, boots, skateboards, surfboards, mountain bikes, kayaks, motocross bikes, a raft, parachutes, hockey equipment, fishing gear, golf clubs—anything and everything except a car.
The gear spilled over into the house, from bedrooms to the couch in the living room, where there was a climbing wall. After moving on from the first Primal House, the crew set everything back up in another A-frame a few blocks away. In addition to the climbing wall, this one had a trampoline in the living room. The trick was to jump from the loft, bounce off the trampoline, then grab one of the holds, and stick it.
As occurs sometimes in just the right conditions and timing, the Primal House drew together a circle of people that became close friends, brothers. Owing largely to their trust in one another, the Primal crew would collectively push their skills in various skiing, mountaineering, as well as B.A.S.E. and bungee jumping exploits, pioneering new techniques and writing history as they went.
Primal House-mate Shane McConkey utilizing base-jumping skills to ski lines most people only dream about.
M.C
Out of all the housemates, the one who came from farthest away was Mihai Calin Constantinescu, or M.C., as everyone called him. M.C. had come to New York with his mother in late 1979. The two arrived penniless, having fled Communist Romania.
Although he remembered little about his childhood there, M.C. later wrote in his autobiography: “You could never forget the way the Russian Soldiers marched up and down the streets with their high leg kicks, or how there were lines all over the city for food or products.”
M.C.’s father had died in the 1977 earthquake. Only five at the time, M.C. wasn’t told about his father’s death until his mother took him to visit the cemetery a year later. “I believe that on that day,” M.C. would write, “my mother vowed to find a way to leave communist Romania and raise her only son in the free world.”
M.C.’s mother found work in New York as a cab driver, taking her young son with her on rides. Twenty years later, M.C. began his own company, Fast Taxi, hiring many of the Primal housemates as drivers. The first cab was 1973 Cadillac with a monstrous sound system.
Similar to the crowd-gathering effect Jimbo had at the Beer Garden, Tahoe-area locals would wait hours simply to ride in M.C.’s taxi. M.C. drove fast, and when he didn’t have customers, drove even faster, setting his personal record: 180 miles from Truckee to San Francisco in an hour and 50 minutes.
He was on his way to contest a speeding ticket.
Gambler on plane
Gambler
Frank Gambalie, or Gambler, set up his room in what was the Primal house’s sauna. In the mid 90s, he took up skydiving lessons with Jimbo. Their training was not so much for skydiving itself, but for building the requisite skill-set for B.A.S.E jumping, or using a parachute to jump off fixed objects.
At the time BASE jumping was still in its infancy, something undertaken only by a small group of veteran skydivers with years of training. Jimbo and Gambler made their first BASE jump off after having only skydived 12 times.
Over the next several years, Gambler took on a series of high-profile BASE jumps without getting caught. (Except in special situations, B.A.S.E. jumping is almost always illegal.) He had a working knowledge of alarm systems and locks, and dressed up as a technician in order to infiltrate buildings.
Eventually he was approached by Red Bull, which had just come to the U.S. Gambler became one of the first athletes to be sponsored by the energy drink company, paid to travel around the world and BASE jump.
Gambler’s influence over others in the house was profound. A short time after learning to BASE jump with Jimbo, Gambler began mentoring two other housemates, Miles Daisher or Miles D., and Shane McConkey. Both Miles D. and McConkey went on to become Red Bull Athletes, and Miles D. would later open his own BASE jumping school: Miles D’s BASE camp, in Twin Falls, ID.
Miles D prep
Quinner
While Jimbo, Gambler, Miles D., and Shane McConkey pursued BASE jumping, another high-energy house member, Kevin Quinn, or Quinner, began charging a different vision.
Seeking new adventures, he turned to Heli-skiing (using a helicopter to access remote terrain). In 1998, Quinn found a lodge in Cordova, Alaska that wasn’t being used during ski-season. Seizing the opportunity, he set out to create the ultimate heli-skiing experience, one that captured the spirit of Alaska not only through skiing, but every wilderness option from sea-kayaking, surfing, and ice-climbing, to wildlife viewing and fly / open sea fishing. This would become Points North.
Among Points North’s first guests were Jimbo, Tal Fletcher and M.C. “Life there was accelerated, like living in a Metallica song,” Tal said. Over the next several years, he and Jimbo would become guides there, and Miles D. was appointed “the Director of Fun.”
Senior
For more than a year, one of the downstairs bedrooms in the first Primal House was the sleeping quarters / office of roommate Mike Richardson, or Senior. Senior created a magazine, Boards in Motion with the mission (as stated in the inaugural issue Jan/Feb 97) to “always hold true to what we believe in. . .the rider’s potential to ride the boards as an extension of the body. . . the writer’s potential to share the transcendent, curious, raw, and personal characteristics of people and travel; and above all, the cycle of water in nature and the rage of boards in motion.”
Senior’s letter in the second issue, (Nov. 97) described a day skiing with his friends in the backcountry of Mt. Rose.
His letter ended by saying:
Some of the people I saw today, I probably won’t see until early April, when the migration north to Alaska begins. Others, I may never see again. It sounds morbid, but you never really know. The one thing I do know is that my memories of that day will last forever, as will theirs. . .
. . . I urge all of you to pursue your dreams. Drop everything and go for it. . . Touch as many lives as possible in a positive way. Very seldom do we actually get to say goodbye and yes, tomorrow is too late.
Boards in Motion never got as far as the Senior and Primal crew hoped—only 5 issues were published—but achieved something that none of the corporate ski magazines ever did. It spoke not only for the Primal House, but for people everywhere who lived their dreams.
Dano
Although he never paid rent at the Primal House, climber Dan Osman, or Dano, was a frequent couch-surfer there. Dano starred in several rock climbing videos, his long black hair swinging behind him as he flew up cliffs, free-soloing (climbing without ropes or safety gear), at maximum speed.
Dan Osman free soloing at high sped.
Like Gambler, Dano also saw something profound in the act of jumping off mountains, and began experimenting with controlled free-falls. Instead of using bungee cords or a parachute, he would deliberately fall hundreds of feet on a regular climbing rope.
* * *
For a decade, the Primal House was home to a crew for whom “home” was a loose term. Most, if not all of them, were more at home jumping off a new cliff or skiing a first descent than anywhere else. If anything, the house served as a place to renew one’s energy.
The code of the house—something that went unspoken, but instead, was directly charged and recharged through each day’s adventures—was that one must stay true to his vision. Inevitably, this led the Primal House brethren to new places, larger but continually intersecting circles. It was all part of the progression.
Stay tuned for part 2 of The Primal Crew, which will run next week.
Follow these 12 steps to help secure your New York City abode.
New York is thought to be the city where dreams come true and people put up with a lot to be there. There’s the congestion, the cockroaches and the high cost of living.
With eight million residents and steep real estate prices precluding most from home ownership, there’s also the frenzied and competitive apartment renting process. These tips should help get you in:
1. Consider subletting.
If you’re not familiar with the city and find the thought of both relocating and committing to an apartment too daunting, consider a transitional home. Maybe a friend’s roommate is moving to India for a few months, or browse the plethora of listings online.
You can be less discriminating when only committing for a month or two. Many sublets even come furnished.
We’d all love to have a spacious and well-located Manhattan apartment of our own, but this is unrealistic for most. In fact, it’s not uncommon for single 30- and 40-year-olds to still have roommates.
Although you may be able to find a tiny studio or one-bedroom in your price range, you’ll be able to afford a much nicer place with friends. Round up as many roommates as you can.
3. Set a budget
Compare your salary and monthly expenses to determine a target rent. Remember that things like utilities, gas and cable will be additional.
Most landlords require a combined annual income of forty times the monthly rent, so if you and two roommates each earn $40,000, look for apartments under $3,000 per month. (Also discuss how you might split rent if bedrooms are different sizes.)
4. Temper your expectations.
It’s rare to find a one-bedroom for less than $2,000 in coveted areas like the West Village or the Upper West Side. However, in northern Manhattan neighborhoods such as Washington Heights or Inwood, one-bedrooms may go for as low as $1,300.
Yes, $1,300 for a one-bedroom apartment is a bargain in New York City. Adjust your expectations accordingly.
Without a trust fund or a six-figure salary, you’re likely going to have to make sacrifices. Deciding ahead of time what’s essential and what you can live without will expedite your search.
Some factors to weigh: neighborhood, proximity to subway, commute time, doorman, elevator, laundry, square footage, eat-in kitchen, central air, hardwood floors.
6. Explore new neighborhoods.
Treat neighborhoods like you did colleges: have reaches, good bets, and safeties. You probably already know your reaches. Good bets might be Harlem, the Queens neighborhoods of Astoria and Long Island City, or Greenpoint, Fort Greene and Williamsburg in Brooklyn.
Safety neighborhoods might be Brooklyn’s Red Hood and Bushwick. Check out this useful neighborhood guide. Then visit unfamiliar neighborhoods or take a virtual stroll courtesy of the “street view” option on Craigslist, the Mecca for NYC apartment listings. Check it often and inquire promptly.
Apartments are often rented the same day they’re listed. Although it’s an excellent resource, beware of scams. One of the most common involves an apartment listed far under market value. The owner is overseas and asks you to send money for the keys. Don’t.
9. Understand “Fee” vs. “No Fee.”
Apartments rented directly from the owner are usually called “no fee,” meaning anything you pay beyond a small application fee (which covers the cost of a credit check) is refundable or applied to your rent.
“Fee” apartment transactions are usually handled by brokers, who you pay a portion of the annual rent (usually 15%). Sometimes apartments advertised as “no fee” turn out to be “fee.” Clarify this before moving forward.
10. Exhaust all options.
In addition to Craigslist, check to see if your university has a housing bulletin board for alumni, and ask colleagues and friends about vacancies in their buildings. And don’t rule out “fee” apartments.
Working with a broker doesn’t cost you anything up front, and sometimes he or she has connections that can get you an apartment cheaper than you could on your own, even after the broker’s fee.
Gather and make copies of your two most recent W2s, your last three paychecks, an employment letter from your boss stating your job title and salary, your driver’s license and recommendation letter from a previous landlord.
If you don’t have any of these things, or a good credit score, you may need a guarantor—someone (usually a parent) whose salary is at least 80 times the monthly rent and who can provide all the above documentation.
12. Search.
See as many places as you can, and bring along your paperwork and checkbook so you can act quickly if you find something good. Be the first person to show up to open houses and try to arrange private viewings as soon as you can.
Let yourself be picky (although not unrealistic) until two weeks before your desired move in date, but if
you still haven’t found something by then, make a few more sacrifices.
Setting up offshore bank accounts isn’t only for villains. Here are the ten best options.
There are plenty of good reasons to examine offshore banking options – particularly if you’re a world traveler. If you’re going to be trundling around the world, you’ll want to utilize the bank that gives you the best rates, features and online convenience.
There are other considerations as well, particularly in light of the current economic crisis. People who lack confidence in the US dollar may want to put their money in a foreign bank and in another currency, to protect their wealth while still maintaining liquidity. Business owners may look to foreign bankers to give them anonymity along with tax and legal benefits.
The features of many foreign banks are not necessarily as up-to-date as those of a domestic one. Be sure that the bank has full online features, English-speaking customer service representatives, and allows for mail drops if anonymity is important to you.
On the other hand, the recent events in Iceland show the potential risk that comes with patronizing offshore banks. Many Europeans were lured into depositing their money in Icelandic banks over the past several years, but now find that their assets have been frozen following bank nationalizations.
Pay attention to the fundamental economic conditions in your banking country to avoid having your funds frozen at an inopportune moment.
Bankers in this country have decades of experience working directly with American clients. The legal system is highly compatible with the American one, thanks to its long history of involvement with international business interests. The country itself is quite stable, as the Panama Canal makes the continued reign of the government a matter of high importance for all major nations relying on the shipping passage remaining open.
2. The Cayman Islands
This sunny island chain south of Cuba is famed both as a beach destination and as a tax haven for wealthy individuals and corporations. However, the Caymans have had a recent record of cooperating with the IRS, so they are not necessarily as ironclad a choice as they were in the past. Despite this, there are many banks still there that are experienced with American clients, offering full service around the world.
3. Luxembourg
Luxembourg offers many of the advantages of Swiss banking with fewer taxes for non-residents. As one of the richest per capita nations in Europe, it’s also a beautiful cultural center. Convenient internet banking makes it a lovely choice, and it has yet to be intruded upon either by European bureaucrats or its own government.
The Swiss are renowned as the secret bankers of the world elite, but that reputation has dwindled somewhat under pressure from EU countries – particularly Germany – to go after people trying to avoid taxes. Americans, so far, have been largely left alone in terms of their Swiss bank accounts, but the precedent is troubling.
Despite this, Switzerland is one of the most politically stable and professional countries to do business of anywhere in the world. Many Swiss banks also ask for high minimum deposits, making it tough for those outside of the jet-set crowd.
5. Andorra
All accounts opened in this small nation nestled in the Pyrénée mountain range are denominated in a basket of currencies, making it a good choice for world travelers. Anonymous accounts are available, and the political situation is quite stable. The banking sector has been growing, and the country remains outside of the EU’s jurisdiction — although, of course, not immune to pressure.
Simply for convenience’s sake, Mexico is a better foreign banking destination than you might think. The large number of Mexican nationals living within the United States have encouraged Mexican banks to get up-to-date with online banking standards.
7. Malta
One of the easiest European countries to get residency in, Malta also has a burgeoning banking sector with excellent international service.
8. Barbados
Want to combine a Caribbean vacation and an up-and-coming foreign banking center? Barbados might be for you, and it’s a Commonwealth country.
A small country south of Mexico, Belize has less than two decades of experience providing foreign banking services. However, what services they do offer are world-class.
10. Denmark
While Denmark doesn’t technically offer anonymous bank accounts, with some expert help you can set up something resembling that quite quickly. For foreigners, it can be an excellent choice, particularly if you go to Northern Europe often for business or pleasure.
Four simple gardening projects for those who don’t have much space.
If you want to try gardening but don’t think you have the space, then these four garden projects are for you. Even if you have a yard, the approaching winter is a good opportunity to experiment with plants indoors.
1. Start a windowsill herb garden.
It is easy to keep fresh herbs on hand for cooking.
Make a list of your favorite herbs. Round up some seeds, put some potting soil in some containers and scatter the seeds around. Keep the soil damp.
Covering the container with clear plastic creates a miniature greenhouse that helps the seeds start out. Place your containers in a sunny spot and wait.
Remove the covering when you have some seedlings that are doing well. Once they start to outgrow their original containers, transplant them to larger ones and spread them out.
Once you have some large plants, you should harvest frequently. This encourages the herbs to grow.
Some plants are finicky about their light and temperature, so try a variety. Lemon balm, chives, rosemary, and parsley all like full sun but will make do in more shaded areas. Start a lot of them from seed and experiment to find out where they will survive in your home.
Many stems cut from a plant will form roots and grow into new plants. Often, just taking a cutting and sticking it in dirt will be enough to get a new plant. If you want to watch the roots grow, you can place the cutting in a jar of water.
Over the past year, I have turned one tiny neglected ivy plant into five medium-sized houseplants. When they get too shaggy, I cut a few stems and transplant them into other pots. Just spread them around the house. When you have too many, give them away as gifts.
Some plants are easier than others, and researching the species can help. Usually, I just do several cuttings and see how many survive.
When you cut off a piece, use a sharp knife to limit damage to the surrounding plant tissue. Strip off the leaves near the bottom and bury at least one of the leaf nodes. Cuttings from lower on the plant will develop roots more easily than a cutting from the stem tip.
Don’t shock the parent plant by taking a huge piece. A three-inch cutting should be enough to start a new plant.
Friends and neighbors with houseplants are a great source for free cuttings.
Find a glass container. Wash it. Put half an inch of sand or rocks in the bottom and a couple of inches of potting soil on top of the sand. Choose some slow-growing plants that have similar light and water requirements. Scatter a mix of seeds and a little more soil to cover them.
There isn’t any drainage, so don’t water your terrarium too often. If your terrarium has a lid, you can cover it (not airtight) or leave it off. Your choice will affect the humidity inside, but either way is fine. If you cover it, watch out for mold.
When your plants start getting big, pinch them back. They will become short and bushy, and less likely to outgrow the container.
Get a dwarf fruit tree. There are many suitable types – grapefruit, kumquat, lemon, limes, figs, oranges, and more. These are small trees, but given proper care, most provide fruit.
Find a good local nursery that has dwarf fruit trees available. Ask for advice on how big the container for your tree needs, how fast it grows, and how long until it produces fruit. Pick a lightweight container. If you want to move the tree often, then consider getting a wheeled platform to put underneath.
Find the window that receives the most sunlight and put it nearby. If your patio or balcony that receives sunlight through most of the day, then keep the tree there for most of the year. Be sure to bring it in when it gets cold. Many fruit trees don’t stand up well to freezing temperatures.
Don’t overwater. Water when the soil surface is dry. Once every 7-10 days should be enough, but you will learn to judge.
Make the most of the economic downturn. Let it be your impetus to follow through with some of these brave life-enhancing changes.
1. Turn Off the TV
Cancel your cable and Netflix memberships. Consider offering up your TV on Craigslist. Save some cash and use your extra time to finally read the complete works of John McPhee or organize a potluck to reconnect with old friends.
2. Head Overseas
If you’ve been itching to see the world, now is the time to cash in on your car or bid adieu to your pricey apartment. Earn your keep as an English teacher, or live off the government’s dime as a Peace Corps volunteer.
You’ve been meaning to go green since watching An Inconvenient Truth, but it just wasn’t, well, convenient before.
Stretch your salary and help the planet by riding your bike, setting up a carpool or working from home. Buy less bottled water and reuse the bottles you already have.
4. Learn to cook.
Instead of paying for take-out, take a cooking class. Perfect your
grandmother’s hearty signature dish for comfort when times get tough, but also learn to whip up a few new, healthier options.
5. Balance your budget.
Every month you tell yourself you’re going to track your expenditures, and now is the perfect time to actually start. Evaluate where you’re overspending and change your habits.
If you’re planning to go back to school, apply for a graduate program at a foreign university. Not only will getting your degree abroad offer you a chance to make global career contacts, the tuition is cheaper or — like the public universities in Argentina — free.
7. Volunteer.
When you start to worry about your financial outlook, volunteer. By spending time with an adopted “sibling” or helping build a home, you will not only reassess your own situation but also help someone in need.
The small town of Wasilla has more to offer than just the biggest political story of the season.
My hometown is a little known municipality of just over 7000, but as of late has become the new location of several political journalists and the starting point for the new conservative superstar of American politics.
Wasilla, Alaska, rests in the belly of the Matanuska Valley, a place famous for giant produce (think 100+ lb cabbages) thanks to near 24-hour daylight during the peak growing season.
It is on the way to Anchorage if you’re arriving by road from Canada, and on the way to Denali National Park if arriving by plane in Anchorage. Wasilla has small town charm, I guess, but most of the buildings are low and nothing special to look at; half the year they’re covered in snow, the other half, mud.
The real charm is the landscape this town was plopped down in: neighborhoods are still on dirt roads, forests are still rich in life, the streams are still clear, and the mountains are so close, rugged and blue you feel like you’re standing in a postcard.
My childhood home looked out over the mud flats, a huge expanse of land that sunk to sea level in the 1964 earthquake and has since turned into marshland scattered with moose, bear, and enormous flocks of migrating birds (mostly geese and crane, both of which make their presence known with a cacophony of sound that is utterly and indescribably chaotic, irritating and gorgeous).
The pond up the street from our house wasn’t much to look at, except when beavers moved back in and built a dam or the occasional muskrat lingered for a few days. A little further up that dusty road was the creek salmon traversed in the summer, and we ice skated on in the winter. If you’ve never seen a creek literally moving with salmon on the way to their spawning grounds, you’ve not really experienced the full cycle of life.
It’s like staring into a fire late at night before crawling into your sleeping bag and gazing at the stars; you’re mesmerized, and even though you know there are wonderful things around you to see, you can’t break away.
My friends and I used to ‘rescue’ salmon stuck in the shallows by heaving them into deeper pools, until we were old enough to realize that handling the fish at this point in their migration was neither helpful nor legal.
I haven’t lived there for many years, but visit occasionally. I always make time for that creek, and try to be there late in the summer when the salmon make their annual trek. Sitting and watching those waters now is like bearing witness to one of the gravest tragedies of our time – they’re so still.
While the politics of Wasilla and the vast state of Alaska are becoming talking-head sound bites, I can’t help but be drawn back into thoughts of the life that pulses through that landscape. It is eloquent and primal, rugged and fragile, my hometown, a world away.
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