Blastocystys Hominis (TIG)

So, funny story.

I finally went to a clinic today, to Primeros Pasos, which is a non-profit clinic that offers low cost medical service. They have volunteer doctors from the States, so I got service in English. And the service was good! My doctor, Rebecca from Philadelphia, was like so awesome I can’t even describe it.

Anyway. I arrived at the clinic around nine in the morning. I was the only gringo patient there. I saw my doctor, explained my symptoms. They asked me to give them a stool sample. I had expected it. Well, you know what? I’ve been shitting my brains out for the past six days (last time this morning), not being able to eat anything. But when I need to give a sample, do I feel like taking a dump? No!

I found a little shop close by to buy something to eat – thing that usually made my stomach go crazy. There was a young girl there who kindly sold me a chocolate covered doughnut and a small bag of chips. I ate them. Nothing. I went back and bought two more doughnuts (she must have thought I was into sweets or something..). I waited. Half an hour, an hour. Nothing. How ironic! It was like the things inside my stomach knew: if we let her give the sample, they will kill us…

Then my doctor, very kindly, gave me some of her instant coffee. I drank half a cup. And yes! I felt something coming, run to the bathroom. I succeeded! How awesome.

I found Stieg Larssen’s book The girl who played with fire on the shelf, took it and went outside to wait for the results. A minute after my doctor came out and told me… that my sample was not pure (there’s a story there, but I will skip it) and I need to give another one. Nooooooooo!! You can’t do this to me!

Oh well, after two more cups of instant coffee and the feeling of wanting to puke by just the smell of it I succeeded again. I took the book and waited again. I got to page 20. Couldn’t really remember half of what I was reading. My doctor called me in.

And she said: “You have ameba.”

Ameba. I have an ameba?? Where am I, in a third world country?? (You betcha!) Well, parasites are common here. That’s actually probably the most common reason why gringos come to the clinic. But my case, she said, seemed bad. The worst she’s ever seen actually (and she’s seen a lot!). She said that she was surprised I am not dehydrated or in more pain (I have been in pain, trust me).

But the good news is, it’s treatable. Maximum dose for me. At least three days before I even start to feel better. Awesomeness.

Blastocystys Hominis. That’s the little bastard multiplying inside of me. But hey, like they told me about a hundred times at the clinic, TIG. This Is Guatemala.


(Could not find any good quote about ameba)

The thing that happened on Tajumulco

So, I didn’t quite make it to the top of volcano Tajumulco. Soon you’re going to know why. But I have to warn you first: this story is neither nice nor funny (oh well, certain people might find it funny). It’s also a bit gross, so if you’re about to eat, I suggest you postpone reading this. It’s also kind of private, but since I have no problem with making a fool out of myself in public, I will share the story with you.

My story begins Wednesday morning before the sunrise. We are all packed and ready to go; we need to take two separate buses to reach the point where to start hiking. Tajumulco is Central America’s highest peak and is located close to the Mexican border. So, first we took one chicken bus (these are old school busses from USA which are packed tightly with too many people) for an hour to San Marcos, where we enjoyed our breakfast. After that it was another chicken bus for two hours to Tajumulco.

About an hour on the hike I was feeling really bad, and soon after threw up my breakfast. At that point I already realized I would not be climbing to the peak. Feeling disappointed and nauseas, I started the descent. Wasn’t so easy though, I had to stop to throw up and use the bushes for toilet few times.

But that was nothing compared to total of three hours in a chicken bus. Squeezed tightly on the bench, I threw up like three times on the bus. Luckily I had a plastic bag with me, so I didn’t make a mess. When I finally made it to Xela, it was pouring rain. I was carrying 15 kilos on my back and a bag of vomit in my hand. There are no trash bins in Guatemala: everyone just throws the trash on the streets. But I am a Finn and could not even imagine leaving my vomit on the street (okay, I know many Finns will have no problem with that).

The streets were flooding. Because of the high number of trash on the streets and gutters, the sewage system does not work. So after half an hour of rain the city is flooding like crazy. So there I was, walking in the rain, in the flood, trying to figure out a way to get to my hostel before I needed to throw up again. I did not have enough money for taxi, but I took one anyway.

So, I survived. And I heard stomach problems are very common in Guatemala. It’s how they welcome you: bienvenidos a Guatemala, here’s a stomach bug for you!

Today is good Friday, and Semana Santa (the holy week), which means all places are closed. It’s a very big deal around here. All gringos and young people went to San Pedro for weekend to party. I stayed in my hostel, probably the only one, because my stomach does not let me travel yet.

I found a book on the shelf here that I’ve wanted to read for ages: One hundred years of solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Hopefully I can dive into that one during very calm weekend to come.

Between me being sick and feeling bad I haven’t really had time to feel anything else. So I am not quite yet sure how I feel about being here. It’s exciting, for sure, but I find myself missing home quite often. I miss clean and working bathrooms, healthy food, proper heating system… Just about anything. However the scenery here is breathtaking. And I never expected everything to be so easy. I’ve had it easy for a long time on my travels.

In the midst of these thoughts I realize I want to feel like I belong. I want to feel home. But my home is not necessarily a place somewhere. It’s a feeling. I want to find that feeling.

Volcan Santa Maria

Volcano Santa Maria greeted me with majesty and beauty. With 15 kilos on my back I started to ascend this magnificent mountain. I was hiking with twelve other people, a multicultural group including people from Austria, Sweden, USA, Italy, Israel, Spain and South Korea.

Little did I know what a challenge this volcano would turn out to be for me. If before I have claimed Longs Peak to be physically the most challenging thing I have ever done, compared to Santa Maria that mountain is just walking in the park.

No, Santa Maria is something quite different. She makes you want to catch your breath every other step, she makes you wonder why you ever signed up for something this insane. She also randomly hits people with altitude sickness. I’ve never suffered from altitude before. But hey, I’ve never climbed Santa Maria before.

Let me tell you something; altitude sickness is not nice. Almost halfway up the mountain I felt completely fine, keeping my pace. But then suddenly, out of nowhere, it hit me. I felt really dizzy and disoriented. My vision started to blur and I couldn’t even recognize the people around me. All I could see was bright lights and all I could think of was throwing my guts up.

Luckily, Santa Maria decided, that I would pass the test. Altitude sickness slowly went away and I was able to ascend all the way to the top. And oh man was that worth it!

Now you should know something about Santa Maria. She is not just any volcano. She erupted really badly in 1902, destroying a lot of Xela, the Mayan city next to it. Nowadays it erupts every twenty minutes or so, spitting smoke, gas and lava out. But eruptions are minor, so there is no danger (unless you go too close).

Santa Maria is also a sacred mountain to the Mayans and they often go there to pray, sacrifice chickens – and party. We did not see any sacrificing, but we did experience how the local people spend their nights on Santa Maria – singing, shouting, laughing, banging drums. Pretty much doing anything noisy. And if that hadn’t kept us awake the night, the strong thunder storm with hail would have. Lightings were striking right above our heads.

Early in the morning we woke up to see the sunrise and volcano eruption. It was quite something. And of course the two mountain dogs living there, Santa and Maria, accompanied us our whole time there (especially meal times).

The morning luckily revealed something positive about my fitness; I recover fast. Yesterday’s struggles and nausea was long gone and I didn’t feel the hard exercise at all. I was full of energy and happily almost running down the mountain.

Bienvenidos a Guatemala

I’m shivering. The sun has gone hiding behind a cloud, and is soon to be set anyway. I’m wearing a sports sweater and pants, but the coolness of the mountain evening gets to me. I was warned that it would be chilly in Xela, but I had not expected to feel cold.

It is my first night in Quetzaltenango, and second night in Guatemala. I do not know how I feel or what to think. Except cold. I feel cold.

The hostel that I am staying at the moment, Casa Argentina, would make most of my friends turn around at the door. It’s very simple and ascetic, but has a Guatemalan touch; meaning there is no heating or insulation. Since the temperatures tend to drop below zero at night, I am fretting what is to come. I have three blankets in my bed, but I doubt they will be enough.

I’m feeling melancholic enough to almost want to return home. But just almost. However I’m well aware that this time travelling might be very different. I can’t quite get a hold of the feeling, but it makes me restless. I’m hesitating, and I rarely do. Hesitating whether the choices I have made turn out to be okay in my life. It’s a strange feeling, since I’ve never had it before.

I feel a stranger in this country. Which I am, of course. But a stranger in my life too. How to process that feeling, I do not know. Should I embrace it, or fear it? Accept it or get rid of it?

I feel the course of my life might change a lot during these months to come. To where, how, and what is the result, makes me wonder. For the first time in my life I feel somewhat lost at what I really want, or what should happen. It’s a feeling I want to welcome, because it’s a chance to grow and learn. But processing it is difficult.

But now. Time to face the inevitable: the night of Xela.

- - - Next morning - - -

I didn’t die! I didn’t freeze! And I slept well, wearing a fleece and long pants and covered with three blankets.

Fresh mountain air wakes me up immediately and I don’t feel tired like usually in the mornings. My thoughts from yesterday seem to be gone – at least for now. Just taking it one day at a time.

"I remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Kony 2012

Click. Share. Reshape history.

How we react to insane cruelty and crimes against humanity shapes the future. Do we hear their voices? Do we see the invisible children? What we do now defines who we really are.

Kony 2012 video on Youtube has already had over 80 million views worldwide. Brilliantly made video about Joseph Kony, a long-time war criminal from Uganda, who now operates also in South Sudan and other areas. Known for his tactics of abducting children, turning them into sex slaves and child soldiers, Kony has long been free to rape, murder, destroy and terrorize.

There has been a fair amount of criticism about the Kony movement, the video, Jason Russell and Invisible Children Inc. This is to be expected. But what really touches me is the huge support that this movement has gotten during the years, all over the world. It has really changed people and their view of the world, made them act to the point that US government took Kony on their agenda: Barack Obama sent about a hundred special military advisors to Uganda to help and train their military to catch Kony and bring him to justice.

People actually care. People all over the world care about these children, who have had everything taken away from them: their families, their childhood, their humanity. Of course Kony is not the only bad guy doing things like this, but what this movement represents, is hope. Hope for mankind, hope for compassion, hope for a change - because people all over the world demand it.

Jason Russell and his team have great understanding of social media and technology, how to bring people together for a common cause. They believed that if people knew, they would care, and they would act. I have to admit I have lost my hope for mankind from time to time, been overwhelmed by the injustice and cruelty in the world. I have felt like there is no hope. That people don’t care.

Kony 2012 movement has restored my hope. It has opened my eyes. People do care.

As long as we care about the suffering and pain of others, there is hope. As long as our caring makes us act, the world can change. Let’s do the same for Syria – and for other places where crimes against humanity take place.


"Who are you to end a war. I'm here to tell you, who are you not to."
- Jason Russell

Ajatuksia maailman ääriltä

Jännittäviä kokemuksia, uusia ihmissuhteita, näkökyvyn laajentumista, erilaisten kulttuurien kohtaamista.

Nämä ovat asioita, joita ihmiset uskovat kuulevansa minulta kysyessään, mitä olen matkoiltani saanut. Usein tyydynkin tähän vastaukseen: se on helppo, ei vaadi suurempia selittelyjä ja on toki suurinpiirtein totuudenmukainen.

Mutta kysymys, mitä olen saanut, on mielestäni väärä. Haluaisin vastata kysymykseen, mitä olen oppinut tai miten matkani ovat minua muuttaneet. Mutta sisälläni tapahtunut muutos on vielä varsin hienovarainen ja hiljainen. Se tunnustelee vasta sydämeni maaperää, tarttuu siihen hennolla otteella, odottaa jatkoa.

Nöyryys.

Siitä nyt puhun. Kuin kevätaurinko, se alkoi sulattaa sydämeni jäätä. Kuin kesätuuli, se puhalsi pois roskat. Kuin syyssade, se puhdisti sisimpäni mudasta ja loskasta.

Minä, joka luulin ehkä jostain jotain tietäväni, sain oppia, etten oikeasti tiedä mitään. Minä, joka luulin jotain maailmassa nähneeni, sain oppia, etten ole oikeasti nähnyt mitään. Minä, joka luulin elämästä jotain ymmärtäväni, sain oppia, etten ymmärrä mitään.

Nöyryys. Sitä ovat matkani minulle opettaneet.

Olen tavannut rikkaita, köyhiä, lukeneita ja lukutaidottomia, korkeasti koulutettuja ja kouluja käymättömiä, onnettomia ja onnellisia, toisiaan vihaavia ja toisiaan rakastavia ihmisiä. Ja olen tullut siihen lopputulokseen, että nöyryys, joka on ehkä kaikkein aliarvostetuin luonteenpiirre, on tärkein asia, jonka ihminen voi elämässään saavuttaa.

Olen huomannut, että nöyrillä ihmisillä yhteistä on keskinäinen rakkaus, toisten arvostaminen, omien heikkouksien ymmärtäminen ja lempeä anteeksianto. Nöyrät ihmiset ovat usein myös kaikista puutteistaan huolimatta äärimmäisen onnellisia ja tyytyväisiä elämäänsä. He ovat löytäneet jotain, mikä meiltä monilta puuttuu.

Nöyryys. Se on opettanut minulle miten ylpeä, vihainen, epäoikeudenmukainen ja omaa etua tavoitteleva oikeasti olen. Se on opettanut, miten vähäpätöisiä omat ponnisteluni ja viisauden tavoitteluni tässä maailmassa ovat. Se on opettanut, että eivät tiedon määrä, opintojen pituus, urallinen menestys, parisuhteet tai rikkaudet määritä millainen ihminen olen, vaan se, miten kohtaan ja kohtelen toisia ihmisiä.

Usein nöyrät ihmiset ovat joutuneet kokemaan suuria epäonnistumisia, ahdinkoja, kipuja ja taisteluja elämässään. Suurissa tuskissa opitaan suurimmat viisaudet.


"To be humble to superiors is duty, to equals courtesy, to inferiors nobleness."
- Benjamin Franklin

Five things about Mexico

I’m sorry I have been quiet for a long time now. My life in Mexico has been quite unexpected in many ways. But during this time I have paid attention to few things that for a Northern European might be difficult to adapt at first. Here are some five things about Mexico that I want to educate you about.

Five reasons why you can’t sleep:

1. Your neighbor’s hundred and ten roosters start their morning serenade at 4 am and continue for hours.

2. Wild dogs in the neighborhood host illegal dog fights every night.

3. Somewhere close by somebody is burning a ton of plastic and the smell makes you want to puke.

4. The cute cat babies under your window, where their wild mom found a nest for them, start screaming for food or for their mom.

5. When you’re taking a nap in the afternoon, the local newspaper car drives by shouting in the megaphone how some kid in the next village was killed and his body ripped in parts.

Five things, which are most different from home:

1. It’s okay to drive one-way street to the wrong direction.

2. You find scorpions in your bathroom.

3. Yard work tools include jungle knife.

4. When Mexicans say, “it’s not spicy at all” you will die if you eat it.

5. No warm water in the house (but it’s Mexico, so why would you need warm water?)

Five reasons, why you have to love Mexico:

1. It’s okay to drive one-way street to the wrong direction.

2. Food: tacos from street vendors are absolutely fantastic!

3. It never snows.

4. You get to use jungle knife when working in your yard. Talking about Indiana Jones!

5. If you run out of food, there are ton of roosters running around, waiting to be cooked.