torstai 23. syyskuuta 2010
Back home
On my return I was curiously looking around with my eyes wide, like I had been observing everything as a foreigner in South America. I noticed a lot of clichés, such as the blond air hostesses serving Fazer's blue chocolates on my Finnair flight or a woman with a fair-skinned baby with bright blue eyes at a bus stop in my home town. It was summertime; the weather was warm and everything was green. But watching the fields and forests pass by on the way from the airport to Tampere I still didn't get the same immensely nostalgic feeling I had when I returned from New Zealand in June 2003 or from my trip to Europe in June 2007. In Tampere I realised how clean and tidy the streets of the city are. I had never thought about it before. But what would Finland be without alcoholics? Of course there had to be two drunk men arguing on my way home in Pispala, the most beautiful and bohemian part of Tampere.
I'm lucky that I share my home with other people. If I had had to come back to a lonely apartment, I would have escaped right away. In Finland I couldn't hear Spanish around me anymore, nor did I have the challenge of learning new things of everyday life, so I felt like it was a bit boring. But my house mates welcomed me with their stories, questions and a lot of jokes and laughter, which made it much easier to settle back. The view to the lake from my window is not the same thing as the snow-capped Andean mountains, but it sure is a view to enjoy and be grateful of.
On my first day home I bought rye bread for breakfast, ate it outside in our garden and felt like being home was actually much more of a holiday than travelling had been. From the local newspaper, Aamulehti, I read an article written by my great idol, Matti Kuusela, a skilled journalist. Here in Finland I can understand the ideas of other people, develop my thinking and enjoy the varied tones of my mother tongue. Another enjoyable cultural experience was watching the film called Miesten vuoro (Men's turn) outside at the oldest public sauna still in use in Finland. The film shows Finnish men sit in the sauna and talk about their lives, sometimes with tears in their eyes - which is traditionally not typical in our culture - if the memories and feelings are painful.
I had a short holiday in Finland before I started working again. Most of it I spent at my parents' place in the countryside; picking berries and going to sauna & swimming.
Now I've been back to work for a month. It's been surprisingly easy and pleasant. I had been looking forward to it, but part of me had also been horrified if it would be difficult to lose my freedom. But adapting to working life hasn't been a problem. This life has its advantages, too. I can bump into my friends and acquaintances in town, and I can continue my regular hobbies like going to yoga, language courses and lectures.
tiistai 17. elokuuta 2010
Iguazú Falls and Uruguay


Tuukka told me he had been robbed just before embarking the ferry. On the street, in the daylight, around 8.30 in the morning! Classical case: Some dirty liquid had been spilled on him, two women had appeared asking "Oh, you got it, too? Do you have some water we could use for cleaning our clothes?" Tuukka put down his backpack and started to take out his water bottle. Then there was a man nearby making some weird noise. Tuukka looked up. He knew there was something strange, but it all happened so quick. Before he realised, the women had grabbed his backpack and jumped into a nearby car, which drove away.
Uruguay, the land of mate and gauchos, seemed very European - and for that, after visiting the more exotic countries Bolivia, Peru and Ecuador - somewhat uninteresting to me. It was my last destination and my mind was already home, but I was still able to notice the beauty of the streets lined with trees and the colonial buildings in Montevideo and Colonia del Sacramento.
A park in Montevideo:




perjantai 6. elokuuta 2010
Paraguay
There's "nothing" in Paraguay - and exactly for that I think I love the country. It's a humble little country without spectacular, highly advertised jewels of nature or culture, there's no biggest this and that: the biggest waterfall, glacier or mountain - they don't have any mountains or glaciers - or the biggest theme park. There are no "you must do this, you must see that"-things. Nobody wants my money (well, the souvenir sellers do), nobody wants me to eat at their restaurant or take their tour. Tourism is not a big industry in Paraguay and the facilities are not very developed. People drink their mate and tereré, mind their own business and let me mind mine. But they are not indifferent, they are ready to have a conversation with the foreigner: a postal worker makes a friendly comment about my cold, a taxi driver talks to me all the way to the bus station. There's only one person who has told me Paraguay is the best country in South America. He was a Polish hitch-hiker who had enjoyed the originality of the country and the hospitality of its people. In the words of my guidebook "what really sets this country apart is the warmth and tranquility of its people".
People drink mate everywhere and anytime: at home and at work, in the streets and in the parks. I saw a guard in front of a bakery shop with a thermos flask and the special cup and straw for mate. At the Ciudad del Este bus station in the morning all the taxi drivers waiting for customers were drinking mate. I also tried the mate and traditional cheese bread chipa in Asunción while waiting for my bus. Now the people drank mostly mate, to keep them warm in the chilly winter weather (around 10 ºC, warmer during the day). In the summer, when temperatures rise up to 40 ºC or even more, mate is drank cold and it's called tereré. In Ciudad del Este I noticed the fans at a restaurant and in my hostel room - which also had a tropical smell, I think it's mold - but freezing in my warmest clothes it was a bit difficult to imagine the summer heat.
Chipa and mate sellers at the bus station in Asunción:
My first, and only real stop was Asunción, the capital. My Couchsurfing host Javier picked me up from the airport. He was a very nice guy, confident and easy-going, which I knew from the first phone call and could tell the first minute I saw him. After staying a lot at hostels it was nice to do couchsurfing for a change, and I really felt like home at Javier's place - even more than I normally do. In the afternoon I went to explore the center of the city alone. Other travelers had told me it's dangerous, so I was being careful, almost paranoid. I was looking at the people a bit suspiciously, and they did the same to me, I guess because they are not so used to foreigners. But there was absolutely no danger, I was safe all the time, even when walking home alone in the dark. I took the warnings of my host seriously and didn't go to La Chacarita, a shantytown where a lot of poor people live right next to the center. (But I did have a peek from a safe distance.) I spent my afternoon by having a nap by the river Paraguay (the cold I had made me feel tired and I hadn't slept much in the aeroplanes at night) and photographing the beautiful colonial buildings, some of them nicely restored and some in a bad shape. The following day I continued from Asunción to Ciudad del Este, where I stayed the night at a cheap hotel before heading on to Argentina for visiting the Iquazu Falls.

On the way from Ciudad del Este in Eastern Paraguay to Puerto Iguazu in Argentina, the South American reality hit me. First I talked with an Argentinian man who was searching for his 5-year-old daughter who had disappeared on their holiday trip six days ago. Kidnapped? For adoption? For child prostitution? For illicit organ trade? Is there a European couple who's happy to save the world by adopting an "orphan" and to finally have a child, a beautiful Argentinian girl? The man showed photos in his camera and yes, she was a very beautiful girl. So maybe some perverts..? I was thinking to myself, but didn't say it aloud. Suddenly my loss of camera (which I even got back) and 60 USD felt like such a minor thing. "They can take my car, my money, my land and I will survive, but my daughter..." says the man and continues: "I will never stop searching for her." I felt powerless. What had happened was absolutely horrible, and I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could do.
The other thing bringing me back to the reality after all the amazing sight-seeing I've done in South America was a 40-year-old woman in the bus telling that she couldn't read. I don't think that in Finland there's a single adult (except some refugees from Africa) who doesn't know how to read.
p.s. I was curious and did some googling about the missing girl, Eva Luna Montivero, 5 years, and seems that it might be "just" a family tragedy, divorced parents... Mum wanting to have the girl to herself... Sad and horrible anyways, especially thinking about the innocent little child.
keskiviikko 4. elokuuta 2010
Ecuador in a week
Photo: At the border

"There are many great day-walks throughout the area" claims my guidebook, and after updating my blog at an internet cafe, I head for the Rumi Wilco nature reserve. There are nice views from the slope trail, but after recently hiking among the majestic mountains of Cordillera Blanca in Peru this place fails to impress me. I enjoy the tranquility of the village of Vilcabamba and the beauty of the mountaineous coutryside around it, but I still can't understand why the authors of my guidebook have chosen it to the "Don't miss"-list of Ecuador.
In the evening I have a massage and finally get the chance to watch the movie Motorcycle diaries. By paying 4 USD I get a TV and DVD-player in my room. I have enormous expectations for the movie, and it just can't meet them all.

Wednesday 28.7.2010
I get up at 5 am to catch a bus to Loja at 6 am. In the bus I wolf down the packed breakfast prepared for me the night before by the friendly hostel owner. Mmm... homemade integral bread after eating so much tasteless and unhealthy white bread in all these countries. From Loja I continue to the beautiful colonial, UNESCO World Heritage listed city of Cuenca, which I explore for a few hours in the afternoon.

Thursday 29.7.2010
Early in the morning (7-am bus) I head for a town called Baños. The curvy road high in the mountains is stunning, but unfortunately makes the girl sitting behind me vomit time and time again. For a short while a native Quichua woman with a brown-teethed toddler licking a lollipop sits next to me. I'm anxious to give her a lecture on health and hygiene, but manage to remain silent and just smile to the little boy. A little before changing buses in Ambato a man called Jaime sits next to me and we immerse in interesting conversations. He's returning home from a lecturing trip to some universities. He gives me advise how to improve the quality of my life by practising a concentration/meditation technique, then recommends me to rent a bicycle in Baños for exploring the road towards Puyo with several waterfalls as well as encourages me to travel all the way to the coast the next day, which I hadn't planned to do. So, after arriving to Baños and getting a hostel room, following the advise of Jaime, I start my bikeride. Every now and then I stop to photograph the waterfalls and the mountains covered with tropical vegetation. I only have a couple of hours before the sunset, and unfortunately it gets dark when I reach the most spectacular waterfall, El Pailón del Diablo (the Devil's Cauldron). I return by bus and hurry to the thermal baths of Baños de la Virgen before it closes. The place is crowded and there's a lot of noise, which disturbs my relaxation in the hot pools. I muse about my visit to the natural, sand-bottomed and quiet thermal baths of Termas Los Pozones near Pucón in Chile.

Friday 30.7.2010
I have another early wake-up (at 5:30 am) as I have a very long day ahead. Before catching a bus I walk with my two backpacks, the big one on my back and the small one in the front, to the nearby San Francisco bridge to snap a few photos of the deep rocky canyon with river Pastaza below. It's a pity that I don't have time to do any of the walks in the area. I take a bus to Ambato, another to Latagunga and one more to Zumbahua. There I take a taxi to Quilotoa, a volcanic crater filled by a beautiful emerald lake. For an hour I walk around taking lots of photos and admiring the scenery. Then it's time (actually I'm a couple of hours behind the schedule) to continue; I take a bus to Quevedo. I feel euphoric when the bus climbs above the clowds on a mountain road and I'm almost squeezed to the front window, as the bus is absolutely packed with people. I always prefer the panoramic seats in buses - now I have a "panoramico extremo". When we travel down from the clowds through banana groves and small villages I feel like spreading my hands like Scarlett Johansson does at the front of the ship in the movie Titanic (which I recently saw in another bus). From Quevedo I take a bus to Esmeraldas on the coast. In the bus I notice the big number of black people, who I haven't seen in other parts of the country. Later I learn they are descendants of ship-wrecked African slaves. It's a six-hour busride, and I arrive at midnight. Too late to go to the beach, so I take a taxi to a nearby hostel, where I sleep until the morning.



Saturday 31.7.2010
Somebody has recommended me the beach of Atacames, but because my guidebook says it "is a real 24-hour party town", I opt for Súa, "a quiet and friendly little beach resort, set in a beautiful bay". But as I miss the right busstop, I end up further along the coast, to the beach of the village called Tonchigüe. Finally I'm at a Pacific beach warm enough for sunbathing and swimming! I enjoy the sun for a few hours, as well as the company of some local teenagers that have stopped to chat with me and play in the sand. Until I realise that my phone and money are missing! I've never been robbed or haven't lost anything before, and have almost arrogantly wondered if people who get robbed are stupid and careless. Now it has happened to me! I'm shocked and angry at myself for being so blue-eyed, trusting the guys too much and not keeping enough eye on my belongings. The police in the village is not much of a help (it's hard for me to describe what happened, when and who did it, as I didn't notice anyone opening my backpack), but there's a friendly naval officer who will do everything he can to help the crying tourist. He had seen me with the boys, knows them and starts asking and calling around. The power of the community, people knowing each other in a small town, is amazing: after a while I get my phone back! Ask me back home, and I'll laugh at all this. What a scene! I got my lesson, but luckily it wasn't the hardest one. In the evening there's an annual celebration of the Fishers' Day in the village, but I can't stay as I have already bought a ticket to a nightbus to Quito, and anyways I've had enough of the village...

Sunday 1.8.2010
I arrive in Quito before 6 am and have another busride: two hours to Otavalo. What a beautiful area, and the indigenous people here are the most beautiful I've seen during the whole trip! South American Handbook describes their clothing as follows: "Men here wear their hair long and plaited under a broad-trimmed hat; they wear white, calf-length trousers and blue ponchos. The women's colourful costumes consist of embroidered blouses, shoulder wraps and many coloured beads." The girls wearing traditional clothes are very beautiful and the youngmen, even in jeans and hoodies, with their their braded hair are just gorgeous! So, despite the challenges (problems with ATMs, the robbery, and stomach problems I'm having) I still enjoy travelling.
After getting a hostel room and handing over my dirty clothes for laundry I do a few hours' walk over a hill to a lake called San Pablo. I return in the afternoon and admit that "running" so fast through the whole country and taking the nightbus have taken their toll. I really need a nap! And find it hard to get up after two hours to enjoy the last sunbeams.

Monday 2.8.2010
In the morning I take a bus to Quito, the capital. My plan is to walk around the Old City for a few hours, load my photos to a memory stick and go to the airport for my flight to Asunción, Paraguay. First I visit Basilica del Voto Nacional and climb to its belltower to enjoy the views. The city seems enormous to me. Although later I check in my guidebook that it "only" has about 1.4 million inhabitants. The colonial buildings of the UNESCO World Heritage listed Old City are beautiful, but I'm starting to get too tired to fully enjoy them, especially after somebody tries to steal my camera. In the airport I hear that my TACA flight is overbooked and there's no seat for me in the plane. I get flight tickets for the next day, a room and dinner at Holiday Inn and a voucher of 200 USD for TACA flights.

Tuesday 3.8.2010
I'm not in Ecuador anymore, but feel inspired to tell you about this day, too. In the morning I fly to Lima with a plan to spend the day in the city waiting for my connecting flight in the evening. But after arriving I am told I need to pay an airport tax of 31 USD when entering again the airport. I reckon MALI (the art museum of Lima) or the colonial buildings in the centre are not worth paying the tax. When I hear there's no computer with internet for passenger use at the airport - and I have to spend ten hours there - I get really pissed off. I know I need this day of relaxation for reading, drafting my blog and planning my final week of travelling, but it's still annoying to be stuck at the airport without internet. For my next trip I'll definitely buy a small laptop! To calm myself down I read a chapter in the book 'Travelers' Tales. Central America'. I didn't have time to travel to Central America, so I familiarize myself with the area with this book I've found on a book exchange shelf. Reading the book always makes me admire the authors' writing skills and sharp observations. The trick works: I cheer up a bit. By noon I've gone through all the shops at the airport. There's a lot of time for souvenir shopping. Dangerous for my wallet... but luckily "I just physically can't buy anything" (to understand the quote read my first blog update from Chile). I finally call Mum - it's the first time on this trip - and I can hear she's overwhelmed with joy to hear my voice. The food at the airport is expensive, so I buy only a sandwich for lunch. And look, thanks to the day spent at Lima Airport, you can now enjoy reading this text.
sunnuntai 25. heinäkuuta 2010
Four days in a paradise
lauantai 17. heinäkuuta 2010
Mountains and ruins
Then I met my Couchsurfing friend Kati in Cusco for going together to Machu Picchu, and luckily could stay with the same Couchsurfing host, Daniel, a circus artist, in his nice flat with great views over the city.
There are several ways to get to Machu Picchu: taking a hiking tour with a guide on some of the Inka trails, a train (which is fast but expensive) or travelling the whole day by several local buses and walking two hours at the end. Kati and I were planning to do the latter on Monday, but Sunday night Kati had fever and in the morning a diarrhea. The reason was found in lab tests: parasites! She got antibiotics and we decided to start our trip the following morning. Unfortunately the medicine didn't work so quickly and an early departure wasn't possible. But Kati was such a brave girl that at noon she was ready to leave even though she wasn't completely well. We took minibuses through Urubamba to Ollantaytambo, admiring the beautiful views of the Sacred Valley of the Inkas on the way. From Ollantaytambo we had decided to continue by train, but had to wait until the following morning. Kati stayed resting in our hostel room while I had a pleasant walk to the next village. Deep down I'm a real country girl and enjoyed seeing animals grazing and people working on the fields. It felt so good to escape the tourist crowds, too.
The next morning we arrived in Aguas Calientes, the Machu Picchu village close to the mountains with the ruins. I wanted to walk up, while Kati would take the bus. (Later I found out she had been too sick to leave the hostel room. Her turn came the next day when she was slightly better.) After 1,5 hours of climbing up the path consisting of stone steps I arrived to the entrance, all sweaty and short of breath. While travelling to the village I had been thinking that the pile of stones had better be worth all that effort and money I wasted getting there. Well... it sure was! Just the surrounding lush green mountains alone would have been worth it. And yes, the ruins were impressive. A friend of mine, who's travelled in Peru for 9 months, told me Machu Picchu is not the best place. So I wonder how amazingly impressive the best ruins in Peru are... But I don't have time to find out. Machu Picchu was easily accessible and anyway it's one of the new seven wonders of the world.
But there was something excellent about spending more time than intended: we were in town during 'Fiesta de la Virgen del Carmen', so I could see a real South American carneval. There were groups playing music with flutes and drums and dancing in excuisite costumes.
There are thousands of visitors at Machu Picchu every day and Aguas Calientes was nothing but a tourist town. Hotels & hostels, restaurants, massage, souvenirs... "Excuse me, miss..." people were harrassing with menus and leaflets. After seeing Machu Picchu I just wanted to get out of the place. And this time I wanted to take the long way. Not only for the money, but also for the scenery. Kati was still sick so she took the train. The first two hours I walked a path following a railway line, a river on my left side and a tropical forest on my right, with mountains on both sides. I liked the surroundings so much that I almost wanted to stay there.
I decided to walk the next part, too, a road to Santa Teresa. I can't describe, and just barely remember, the feeling of freedom I had walking there alone in the middle of big mountains and by a fast-flowing river. Arriving in the village of Santa Teresa I was greeted by a rooster crossing the road. It's exotic, although there's nothing new in seeing animals on the road here. During a recent busride I first saw a dog, then a donkey crossing the road, a bull pulling its tether and lastly a few goats. The next sight that caught my interest in the village was slaughtering of a bull. I didn't see the killing, but I observed and photographed cutting the meat and rinsing the intestines.
perjantai 9. heinäkuuta 2010
From Bolivia to Peru



In the jungle, the mighty jungle...


keskiviikko 30. kesäkuuta 2010
What if this bus falls down into the gorge..?!
I decide to travel to Rurrenabaque, a small, relaxed town about 400 km from La Paz, in order to visit Madidi national park. In the morning I take a taxi to the street outside the center where the northbound buses leave. When I see the bus with big double tires I figure it might be a rough ride. I have no idea! Rough is a mild expression for the scariest road I've ever travelled. The first three hours to Coroico the road is paved and has barriers. The views to the green mountains and valleys are breathtaking. And finally I can hear some Bolivian music in the bus instead of watching American movies.
After Coroico the road is not flat and safe like I had assumed, but a narrow gravel road along the mountain sides. Of course without any barriers! I can't help thinking about what would happen if the driver made a small mistake and the bus would fall into the gorge. I sit upstairs in the first row with the best - but also the scariest - view. There are no seatbelts. My hands are sweating and sometimes I grab my hair out of fear when we go to a curve. Somewhere on the way the bus stops. The engine starts, but doesn't stay running. In about an hour the driver fixes the motor and we can continue. After that I have a bit more confidence in his driving skills, too.
At 6 pm we stop in a small town for dinner. I go to a restaurant with a Portuguese guy, the only foreigner in the bus in addition to me. A soup and the main course of meat, rice and salad cost only 10 bolivianos (1.20 EUR).
The journey continues in the dark and it feels quite absurd to be there, travelling on the bumpy and winding road, seeing banana trees and other tropical vegetation on the side of the road and listening to the music played in the bus - technopop from my teenage years! "Bum digi digi digi bum digi bum, think about the way how we live today..." (This piece of lyrics actually contains an important message.) Another interesting thing in the bus is the smell. The only air-conditioning is the wind from the few open windows. Everybody is sweating and I can only guess how uncomfortable the local women must feel in their wide dresses.
When we stop at a police control point and have to get out of the bus, I swear to the Portuguese guy: "I'm sooooo going to fly back!" The bus costs 60 Bs. (7 EUR), whereas a flight is almost ten times more, 480 Bs. (60 EUR). Later in Rurrenabaque I hear that the last accident happened two years ago. Counting the amount of buses, something around 2000 busrides per year on that road, I come to the conclusion it isn't so dangerous after all. Back home I've had two accidents with a deer and a moose on the road. Several people die in Finland every year in such accidents. But there you don't feel the danger...
At 7:40 am, after travelling the whole day and night, almost 20 hours (a distance of only 400 km!) I finally arrive in Rurrenabaque. I get my dusty backpack from the trunk of the bus and get a ride to my hostel at the back of the hostel owner's motorcycle. I'm exhausted, but happy to be alive and immediately like the laid-back tropical town where everyone moves around with a motorbike (without helmets, of course!) and chickens roam freely in the gardens.
tiistai 29. kesäkuuta 2010
Celebrating New Year
Right after arriving, at 8 pm, staying up all night waiting for the sunrise felt like such a long time. But after walking around and admiring the citylights in the Cochabamba valley we almost forgot about the time when we sat around the bonfire of some highschool-aged boys, drank singani (the national spirit distilled from grapes) and chew coca leaves. It is very common to see local people stuffing dried coca leaves in their mouth or see their cheek bulging with the ball of coca. In the highlands of Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador and Columbia the cultivation and consumption of coca is as much a part of the national culture as wine is to France. (Later in La Paz when I visited the Coca Museum I learned that according to Carter and Mamani's study 92 % of men and 89 % of women chew coca in rural areas of Bolivia.) Coca is used as a stimulant to overcome fatigue, hunger, and thirst. It is considered particularly effective against altitude sickness. And please note that chewing coca is something totally different from using cocaine. For me it was the first time I tried coca. It felt and tasted a bit weard - like putting leaves of the birch whisk used in sauna in my mouth. And I'm not sure if I really felt any of the effects... The next morning my cheek was slightly numb; I could still feel the ball of coca there.
I talked with a highshool student sitting next to me and found out that he's been working since he was 7 years old. He works in the morning and goes to school in the afternoon. He had started by washing trufis (shared taxis) and earned 3 bolivianos per vehicle. Washing 10 per day constituted him a wage of 30 Bs./day (3.50 EUR) . Nowadays he is selling and fixing mobile phones. Here in Bolivia it is not rear to see children working. In Potosí many are working in the mines. In all big cities children, and adults as well, go from table to table in restaurants trying to sell chewing gum, chocolate and cigarettes. I've also seen boys offering shoeshine services. Luckily I haven't stumbled upon child prostitution, but according to Wikipedia it is a serious problem in Bolivia.
While waiting for the big moment, the sunrise, we could enjoy performances of a group playing traditional music with flutes and a drum. And finally it happened: the round, shiny thing came in sight behind the mountains on the horizon. Suddenly there was so much more light. I must say it was a magical moment. The music performances started again and lasted for the whole morning.
Back in Cochabamba - no, I didn't go to sleep - I had a shower, packed my backpack and took a bus to La Paz. My travel mate Andrés had a severe stomach ache and stayed with his brother - whom he hadn't seen for ten years.


lauantai 19. kesäkuuta 2010
Voluntary work and fiestas in Cochabamba
Now we are visiting a Finnish girl called Kati, whom I know from Tampere Couchsurfing group. She's been doing voluntary work here in Cochabamba for a few months. I visited the office of her employer, Cedesol (http://www.cedesol.org), an association making solar kitchens and also went twice with her to an orphanage to play with children aged 1-8 years. This weekend there's a music festival 'Fiesta de la Musica' in the city and we've gone to some free concerts. So now I, a girl from the land of heavy metal music, have seen a latino band playing heavy metal. Tonight we'll travel to a nearby mountain to participate in celebrations of Aymara (=an indigenous group) New Year.
A lot of travellers experience stomach problems in Bolivia. According to Kati's empiric studies 50 percent of foreigners get amoebas; she's had them once. Luckily I haven't had anything serious so far.
A woman with short hair is a rear sight in South America. Some girls at the orphanage were asking me why I've cut my hair and if I'm a woman and have breasts and vagina. My travel mate Andres is also saying all the time that I don't have hair.
keskiviikko 9. kesäkuuta 2010
The beautiful, exotic Bolivia
After the European-like countries of Argentina and Chile, the poorer Bolivia feels exotic, more like the "real South America". Here you can see women in traditional clothes with their long hair in two braids, carrying a child wrapped in a colourful cloth on their backs. One traveller said the old women in their wide skirts look like bells when they walk. Ding-dong, ding-dong. :-) In one bus a local woman had two live chickens in her bag. The hostels and public toilets can be very basic, and internet connection is frustratingly slow. Outside the town of Uyuni there was a lot of rubbish on the ground - it was like a graveyard of old plastic bags. But the mountaineous landscapes between Uyuni, Potosí, Sucre and Samaipata were absolutely beautiful.
keskiviikko 2. kesäkuuta 2010
Greetings from the driest desert in the world!
- When I left Valparaíso, I took a local bus from the hostel to the bus station. I didn't know exactly where to get off, but there was a woman in the bus who showed me to get off with her. She walked all the way to the bus station and made sure I was following her.
- From Valparaíso I took a bus to La Serena. Just before arriving the guy sitting next to me started chatting with me. I asked about his plans for the evening and got invited to go and eat seafood with him and his friends in the nearby city of Coquimbo. So I went. And finally had the courage to taste raw mussels, shrimps, octopus etc. How could I have left Chile without trying the seafood?! I've visited a fish market a few times before, but they don't look like the most hygienic places and the food is raw, so I've only taken photos. After this experience the guys took me to my hostel in La Serena. No expectations, no emails changed; just a nice, random act of kindness.
From La Serena I got a ride to the village of Pisco Elqui in Elqui Valley in the rental car of three French exchange students who stayed at the same hostel room with me. Pisco Elqui is a small, peacefull place in the middle of the mountains. On the way we stopped in Vicuña to learn more about two important things connected with Chilean culture: Gabriela Mistral and pisco. Gabriela Mistral was a poet awarded by Nobel Prize. The ones of you who've been lucky enough to get a postcard from me from Chile have seen a picture of her in the stamp. After Museo Gabriela Mistral we went to a pisco distellery. Pisco is a Chilean liquor distilled from grapes.
Now I'm in San Pedro de Atacama in the northeastern part of Chile. Tomorrow it's time to leave the country. In a month I've travelled through the whole country; seen the granite towers of Torres del Paine, the fjords in the south, the green central part with lakes, snowcapped volcanoes, Pacific beaches and now I'm amazed by the driest desert in the world. There's emptiness like in Patagonia, but still it looks very different.
Full of expectations - hoping for the best, dreaming of it and at the same time trying to prepare myself for a disappointment - I met my new travel mate Andres yesterday. Finally, after exchanging emails for a month. I sent him a Couch request earlier, but he was travelling and suggested we'd go to Bolivia and Peru together. "Why not?" I thought. So here we are. My first impression is pretty good, so I believe we'll have a great time travelling together.
I also met a really cool Belgian/Dutch couple at my hostel. All four of us are a team now; we'll take a tour to the salt flats of Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia together. It feels good to be with other people again. A lot of laughter.
torstai 27. toukokuuta 2010
A peaceful place, a destroyed place, a cultural place


I skipped Santiago, the capital, and came straight here in Valparaíso, "Pispala" of Chile. (Although Pispala is only a small part of Tampere and this is a big city.) One cannot but like this bohemian port town with its colourful houses on hillsides! From my hostel bed I have a view to the bay! The first night I was again the only customer, like in Pucon. The hostel owner made some delicious lasagne and we enjoyed it with redwine on the rooftop terrace wathing the city lights on the hillsides in the distance. I must admit it was a romantic setting, but - for those of you with dirty minds - that's where the story ends.

Tonight I did a cultural tour to visit an urban Mapuche (= indigenous people of Chile) community. I found it very interesting to see and hear how they are trying to preserve their culture. Sometimes they can give lectures and shows at schools, but that depends a lot on the attitude and personal interest of the headmaster and the teachers. I remember from my trip to New Zealand how all the school children were taught the maori language and dances. All this made me think about the situation in Finland. Did I actually learn anything about the life and culture of the sami people at school? Not much. Concerning the Mapuche culture, I was impressed to learn how their culture is based on sharing, unlike our modern culture based on gathering possessions.
Time. There's never enough of it. I've now been on the road for two months and what I have left is a bit more than that. But when I look at the map and my calendar I start to panic: so many places to see and so little time! Back home I never had enough time to read all the books I wanted, go to all the courses and events, meet all my friends, white emails... I left it all behind, cut all the routines and came here free as a bird. And now I'm making myself stressed with the ideas that I should see, experience and learn here more things than I actually can...