You may be asking yourselves about the title

If this is the case, then you should read this brief, explanatory post.

Everyone I know, myself included, receives quite an impressive number of emails, advertisement mail in the post, unwanted invitations of Facebook, etc.

I have been on both sides: I have sometimes been the one receiving and others I have been the sender.

Not For trash is a call to everyone out there to be careful and watch what they throw away, when they throw away something, email or post or anything else you want to include in the list. For instance you may be throwing away the concrete possibility to end extreme poverty, or the chance to donate your time to organizing an event that could save many kids in India.

This is a call, a call I make to myself, too.

Win Win

I was back in the car, foot screaming ( I silenced it with a few painkillers). I reached Bologna and found a super parking space, one of those that you never find when you’re looking for them. Short of pledges to sign ( short means I had none what so ever), short of time before shops closed, I ran towards the city center and found, by pure chance, an open shop and was able to print a few copies of the pledge. I thought I would have had enough if i printed six but i was wrong. Just read…I arrived at the venue of the event: Piazza Maggiore. Full of colors, people and lights. I knew what I needed to do and walked straight over to one of the information stands, asking for news about candidates and the entrance to the stage. As I spotted the right place, I ran over hoping to have no problems to enter the “restricted area”. I was wrong – obvious, you will think- well, it wasn’t for me. I introduced myself to the girls distributing “press” and “stage” passes and even though they weren’t exactly nice and welcoming, I tried my best to be nice and start a conversation. To be honest I think you could tell all I really wanted was one of those magic cards to get passed the stage barriers. It wasn’t going to happen. Still waiting for my colleague I tried option B: just stand silently in front of the pass counter. Option B wasn’t about to work so I spiced it up and added a touch of public relations ( if I was able to work as a public relations manager in Russia, why shouldn’t I use the skills now). I headed straight towards the journalists and started asking questions and tips to be successful. Needless to say, I got them AND I got a press pass for the stage. I happily trotted over to the candidates near me and…3,2,1 I was sinking into the depths of a sea of cameras, phones, video cameras, microphones. Suddenly one of the journalists I had met before – he was carefully distant from the crowd- shouted: “It’s your job, don’t be shy, take the space you need and go get your signature!”  If it had been a movie it would have been the part in which the superhero, until that moment an average human being, rips off his/her clothes and transforms into the super character capable of anything… … I simply stood up tall and stuck out the pledge and a marker in front of all the cameras and started talking ( at a rather high tone of voice- there was a lot of noise) to the candidate. He laughed and turned around to sign the pledge: Victory!! That was only the beginning of that evening. After collecting six signatures I began thinking I was never going to have the chance to meet Alexis Tsipras himself and, as I was worrying about this, one of the journalists came up to me and gave me instructions, reading my mind. Trying to use all my kindness and charming effect ( still not sure if I actually possess that special effect) I walked over to the interpreter, introduced myself for the thirtieth time that evening: “oh, hello, I’m ….. Youth Ambassador….ONE…Fighting extreme poverty by 2030…Alexis Tsipras…wonderful”. It worked! Next step was acquaintance with the staff and, by the time I had the thing set, my colleague arrived. We sat down at a nearby bar waiting for the speech to end. As it reached the end, we both walked up to the stage and the security man, seeing my pass, let me in. After a little explanation of the fact we were working on the same project, he eventually let my colleague enter the VIP area and there we stood, ready to tackle anyone that came down the steps.  After about 30 minutes my colleague had collected one signature, I had collected two more but was getting very, very tired, also at the thought of the hour and a half drive separating me from home. I spotted the staff guy in the crowd and reminded him of the promise he had made. He kept it and in less than five minutes Alexis Tsipras was signing the pledge, telling me he liked the campaign and was proud to be a part of it. Wonderful!!  Goodbyes lasted only a few seconds and there I was, flying towards the car with my sore foot. At 3.00 am I was getting ready for bed and for an early wake up only three hours later. It has been hard to fit this wonderful campaign into my schedule but I am always very happy when I am able to accomplish something I hope will be useful for a change. This post is for all those who think volunteers don’t work hard and aren’t motivated. Motivation is what keeps me going, always.

Stylish lunch

During the length of this project I have asked for all the help I could get from my friends and they have always done their best to help me out with a few email addresses and phone numbers here and there.

After a lot of efforts but little success, I got invited to lunch with a minister of the italian government. Was I nervous? YES. Was I confident? NO. I was shaking, my voice was shaking, my hands were sweaty, my stomach was twisted and, although i was going to lunch, the last thing I felt like doing was eating.

I reached Fidenza and stopped at a bar for an espresso ( I probably should have ordered camomile). The lady at the bar gave me some good advice and told me I would have succeeded in my mission that day. Confident by that time, I headed to a very renowned restaurant, owned by the sister of a famous italian comedian, Gene Gnocchi.

The lunch started and, although there were a few tables, I somehow got seated in front of the minister and of a candidate, who made a surprise appearance at the lunch. I couldn’t have been more delighted of my position and took advantage of it to … spill the beans and hand out some material regarding ONE, trying to use the utmost courtesy in handing the paper right over the plates of pasta. The candidate, Emilio Franzoni, whom I had met in two other occasions, was well-informed and accepted to sign immediately, between a bite and the other.

The minister thanked me and addressed me to his assistant, whom I hope to hear from soon.

Our conversation shifted from ONE to recipes of italian food, topic that everyone seemed to be passionate about.

The lunch ended all of a sudden, when minister and candidate rose from their chairs and, almost running, went out of the restaurant barely saying goodbye.

I was still smiling when I got back into the car to go to Parma, where I had an appointment with a dear friend of mine, who happens to be friends with a candidate I had contacted earlier this month. She announced she could have collected her signature at dinner that evening and I jumped at the opportunity, delegating my Youth Ambassador to an Ambassador who was young at heart. This is how Isabella DeMonte became a sustainer of the ONE cause.

The day was not over yet…

Two in ONE

I started my day with aching arms due to the crutches I decided to try out yesterday while running a few errands.

I woke up at a decent time and I started on my way to Rovigo, taking great care of avoiding all the possible obstacles I found on my way, such as taking the bus and all that entails, walking up and down stairs, getting on and off trains, crossing streets, etc.

By the time I reached the hotel in which the press conference was supposed to be held, I was exhausted and work out. My arms were aching and I just wanted to sit on my couch and sip on some coffee but I wasn’t about to do that, right? I was there and the two candidates I was hoping to speak to ( I had an official appointment only with one of them) were about to arrive. I was escorted down to the conference room by an old couple ( their names are still a mystery to me as they did not wish to tell me their names). At their request of the reason of my presence I presented myself and accepted their useful advice on how to approach the candidates.

The conference room was crowded and I was honoured to be offered a seat at the “important” table because of my crutches. At the end of the press conference I met Raffaele, charming assistant of Iginio Bendin, who helped me get through the crowd and stand up to present myself and ONE to the candidate. I managed to do so and we took a few pictures. Just as all that happened the second candidate, Antonio Cancian, went away due to urgent business.

I was about to cry. All that effort in the hopes to speak to both candidates had been vain. All the sweat ( literally, I assure) and energy to get to the hotel and there I was, heading home with one signature. Of course, it still was a success, but I had lost the opportunity of meeting another candidate due to the (darn) crutches.

After calling a taxi ( no buses passed by the hotel) to reach the station, I met the old couple again. They asked me if I had succeeded in my mission and I announced, disappointed, that I had only been able to get one of the two signatures I had hoped for.

That was when the magic happened: I got invited to lunch and, after meeting Antonio Cancian and all his staff, I was presented to the whole restaurant and every one of the present people took great care of me, helping me in every way possible. I introduced ONE and ONEVOTE2014, Cancian was glad to hear about it and signed the pledge amongst  the flashes from the camera. As happy as I could have ever been that day, I made friends with the people at my table and got escorted back to the station, at the end of the lunch, by the staff.

I still did not manage to discover the names of the old couple even though I would like to thank them once more.

I reached home tired, no, way moe than tired. My arms had given up on me by the time I got to my front door and only had to walk up three flights of stairs.

    

I was happy, almost joyful and  ecstatic of having met such people: so nice, so kind, so helpful.

I was happy, once again, for ONE and for us: we can make a difference!

Sometimes it happens…again

I thought one injury would have been enough and, by the way, my finger was healing and I couldn’t wait to do some yoga, that I had to restrain from practising. I went to work one evening for a meeting and, as I prepared to take a seat my colleague accidentally toppled over the enormous meeting table in front of us…onto my foot. Needless to say I didn’t even say “OUCH” because I felt embarrassed for my colleague and I decided to keep my mouth shut untill I had the chance to get home, chance that wasn’t going to come along soon since I had to go to a candidates meeting straight after my own. After work I jumped to the car and drove to Sant’Ilario, near the little town I live in. The meeting was held there, in some sort of structure that doubles as concert hall and club on weekends. Trying not to think about my throbbing foot, I approached the candidates one after the other: first came Maria Cristina Quintavalla, second came Stefano Lugli and third came Riccardo Petrella, who caught me almost ready to give up and burst out crying, when he started asking me about an initiative he had created, to fight poverty. I improvised, I have to admit it. The pain in my foot had taken up energy and time to work with, and my mind was all busy dealing with that, at the specific moment I am writing about. Faster than a lightning, I was running home with some more contacts ( collected from a young journalist I made friends with) and three, THREE more signatures against extreme poverty. Wonderful, I thought. Hurried off home, parked my car and asked my mom to take me to the hospital, for the second time in two weeks. The radiologist was not available that night and I had to go back the next day when, after waiting for about five hours, they told me I could have had some micro fractures and prescribed crutches for ten days and total relaxation of the foot.