I spotted this hair salon advertisement next to a bakery where we were buying some croissants. I honestly have no idea how this hair salon picture relates to anything environmental or home-like unless you cut your hair at home and give it to the birds or something. It’s Saturday, though – time to kick back a little, right?
It says over and over, “Blonde is cool!”
As much as I do love life in Germany, I have to admit that I really, really love going back home to the ol’ United States. And thanks to my little brother – my newly engaged little brother! – it looks like a trip to the homeland is in store for late in the summer. I feel like blaring a little John Denver.
Besides, Martin and I LOVE weddings. Don’t we, Martin?
…Oh geez. I am SO dead for publishing this picture. But how could I really, truly skip it? Please, please distract my husband and tell us if you’ve got any summer plans in the works. We promise not to “accidentally” bump into you there unless you’re coming to Berlin. (The New York Times just announced Berlin is #4 in the top 44 places to visit in 2009, not that we’d push you to come visit us and the city we’re hooked on or anything.)
For most Americans, Europe is that once in a lifetime dream destination. It’s a very expensive trip that requires a lot of planning and saving. So whenever someone from my hometown learns about where I live, her jaws drops. She just can’t imagine the expense of calling Europe home, so I thought I’d share a few of the ways we pinch pennies at our house.
Despite the extra burden of expenses (such as 19% sales tax, water measured and billed by the liter, and power costing three times as much as we paid in the US…), we still live on less even with the poor exchange rate. A lot of our choices are directly related to our concern for the environment, and you can’t beat green choices that save a buck. We’re Hooked on European Living, after all.
Here’s how we afford to live in Europe on less than we do in the US:
1. We go to museums for free. Every Thursday, the museums of Berlin open their doors for free during their last four hours of business.
2. We walk or bike. Gas costs around $9 a gallon right now, and the taxes for owning a car (which has to meet strict pollution standards in the city) are huge. Public transportation is really great in Berlin. But we’d rather bike than do either of those (Martin even biked 30 kilometers every day for an internship this fall). I also walk a couple extra blocks so that I can buy reduced fare tickets when I go to German class.
3. We don’t try to live like we’re in the US. We live smaller. We’re keeping the dorm-sized fridge (which is the standard size here), and, of course, our 480 square foot house is super small by American standards, which means fewer utility bills, less property tax, and fewer spaces to fill with furniture and stuff that we’d have to buy.
4. We learn to live without American foods. KaDeWe, Europe’s second largest department store, is in Berlin. It has an entire floor of imported and exotic foods like microwave popcorn. You can find American classics like Kraft Macaroni and Cheese and Betty Crocker Cake mix. There’s canned pumpkin puree and Celestial Seasonings Tea. Other than the tea, there really aren’t German comparables, so you can imagine the big ticket price for them. Peanut butter is a rare find, and American candy is expensive. So we’re going for the whole “when in Rome” thing and learning to live without American foods.
5. We don’t order drinks at restaurants or we share. Food is cheap at restaurants, but not the drinks. Half of your bill can easily be from beverages alone. Since Germans don’t like tap water, it isn’t provided at the beginning of your meal like in the US. You can technically ask for a glass of free water, though it’s a major faux pas. I just carry a water bottle in my purse wherever we go. Then we grab a drink outside of the restaurant.
6. We don’t eat meat. I’ve never actually bought meat, so I can’t say how much we’re saving. But I’ve seen menus (vegetarian meals are always cheaper), and I know tofu is cheaper than steak at the store. It’s just a personal choice, but it sure has kept a few more pennies in our pockets.
7. We don’t buy packaged food. Okay, I admit that since I can’t READ the instructions or ingredient labels on packages, it’s silly for me to buy them. But we also don’t eat a lot of packaged food in the US. I follow a theory that if my great-grandparents wouldn’t recognize something as food, than maybe I shouldn’t be eating it. Plus these foods tend to be more expensive.
8. Our top focus is energy efficiency. It’s better for the environment; it’s better for our pockets. We installed energy efficient bulbs, and none of our appliances were picked for their aesthetics like the stainless steel rage is all about. Our appliances were picked for their ability to do their job. I read a lot of energy saving tips about washing all of your clothes with cold water, but we disagree. We wash our clothes on a setting hotter than American appliances offer (German machines heat their own water). By taking the time to pick an efficient machine, you can save money and have white clothes. (Our top choice in the US is Bosch or Miele… both German companies ironically!)
9. We didn’t buy a dryer. We do it like Europeans and line dry our clothes. It’s a huge pain when the air is cold and humid, but I’m really starting to prefer doing laundry this way.
10. Our building was designed for efficiency. The Germans that we know call American houses “cardboard houses”. Do you ever notice your heat turning on a lot more as the wind picks up? We always did in the US. Cold air was blowing right through our walls! Not now. We’ve barely had to turn on the hot water heat because our windows and concrete walls are such great insulators. In the afternoon, the front of our house is heated by the sun in the winter. Efficiency is a top priority in German architecture.
So there you have it, ten of the ways we manage to keep costs down. I’m still working on shortening those long, American showers of mine.
Now it’s your turn. Have you found a couple strategies for saving a few bucks? A few tricks up those sleeves? Goodness knows we’d all love to hear with the way the economy’s sitting these days…
Craving a bit more European life? Here’s how locals make fresh flowers last longer and spend a typical Sunday.
Being good should be good enough. Sometimes we need to remind ourselves of that a little more often, don’t you think? Striving to be perfect is okay, though we shouldn’t expect it. My mom always told me one thing every day: do your best. She didn’t say BE the best. She just challenged me to give it my all. I didn’t realize what wise words those were.
Now as I walk to German classes, I try to remember her lesson. It doesn’t matter that my vocabulary isn’t as large as some of my classmates or that I can’t say the German “r” very well. What matters is that I can speak to the old woman next door when she doesn’t feel well and asks me to stop sanding. I can understand her, and she can understand me. (!!)
The secret is to gain appreciation for yourself, your home, and your life. Enjoy these things for what they are, and strive to continue to be good, not perfect, and certainly not the best. I love a quote by Greta K. Nagel. She believes, “Usefulness is not impaired by imperfection; you can drink from a chipped cup.”
Of course, I tell you all these things like it’s completely easy and natural. It’s not. I’ve got the most ironic example for you. I’m often asked how long I spend writing a poem. Sometimes I’m very fast (it’s rare), and most of the time, I work on a poem in stages and return to it every few weeks. There’s one poem that I just can’t get right, though. I started it almost a year ago. A high school friend told me about this great opportunity he had. I felt bad for myself. I felt like he was out changing the world like we had always talked about doing, and I wasn’t. I sat down and started writing. The bones of this poem are the same as they were that day. Meanwhile, the details have changed a hundred times. Now I’m going to try to let go and be totally okay with this poem as it is. It’s time.
WHEN MY BEST
ISN’T THE BEST
Sometimes I feel indolent
like I’m a steady slug,
not racing on with progression–
a train who’s lost its chug.
I do not ace my algebra
or win the swimming meet.
No matter how intense I try,
I’m always getting beat.
Some kids at school are always better
at everything we do;
It’s tough to feel much pride when they
can always outshine you.
I try to always remind me
when times feel really tough:
I’m happy with the things I’ve done,
and that should be enough.
Monday morning. 9:00. Noise is permitted, and we start sanding. We hook the shop vacuum to the sander. It doubles the noise, but keeps our house cleaner. I have a tough time finding the space to do all of my work. Sometimes I have to hang out the window to balance pieces of wood as Martin runs them through the table saw. Now I use the table saw as a table to hold doors and shelves that need sanding.
Have I shown you how small everything is? I’m standing at the entrance to our living room/kitchen as I snap this picture.
Our couch (far right), coffee table, and dining table are wedged in the front half of the room. Our construction is going on behind the tarp. The entire kitchen is visible; I can’t fit about two feet of the construction area to the left. Our future bookshelf at the end of the cabinets (center behind tarp) is filled with screws, sandpaper, and wood glue.
We clean the floors of the house every day, and a light red dust recovers everything. I am always amazed when I dust the bedroom windowsills.
1:00. Quiet hours begin. I rinse the dust off some dishes, and we eat fresh bread, pesto, tomatoes, and fresh mozzarella for lunch. It is the simplest, most delicious meal. We drink mineral water, which I guess most Americans can’t stand. We buy glass bottles by the crate and drink it warm. I cannot handle ice cold drinks anymore.
2:00. Noise is allowed again. We resume sanding.
5:00. We feel like working for a few more hours; we can’t. The work day is over. Noise isn’t allowed, and anything else we want to accomplish must be done by hand. There is nothing worse than sanding by hand.
Our house is completely out of cardboard now. The pasta is in jars. The boxes from our 36 square foot kitchen remodel are gone. I strive to reuse resources in my artwork for the added challenge and inspiration. Plus it just makes sense to use things we already have, right? These hand painted pieces are ready to frame or mail as postcards, and we’re wanting to share a piece of the results with all of you.
Update: this giveaway has ended. Thank you to all who participated.
It’s time for a giveaway!
We’ll send four lucky readers from anywhere in the world two randomly selected cards each. The deadline to enter is Saturday, January 31 at 5:00 EST. Additional great giveaways can be found at Bloggy Giveaways if you’re feeling super lucky today.
Leave a comment below telling everyone about your favorite aspect of your home and why you love it. That space could be the one that makes you feel refreshed, comfortable, or constructive. Paint the image for us.
Leave an additional comment for each of these things that you have done with a quick note like “stumble”. I trust you all, and it’s important for me to reward loyal readers.
Lots of luck to you!
I’m an American splitting life between a 480 square foot apartment in Berlin, Germany and – get this – a house made of old tires in the Rocky Mtns.
This blog chronicles the journey of Making This Home.Meet Katie.
