tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89660639320867613922024-03-13T17:13:55.456+01:00Dos Chinos on Dos WheelsDos Chinos: Shu & Q as the Cubans called us.<br>
Dos Wheels: our motorcycle that takes us from Abu Dhabi, to South America, to Toronto, to Sweden, to The Netherlands, and to far and beyond.<br>Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.comBlogger224125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-59149434784228680682022-12-19T23:24:00.008+01:002022-12-20T12:47:36.223+01:00Tips about Travelling with Cats<p>Q and I are blessed with the companionship of two wonderful cats since mid-2021. Many friends and neighbours with cats predicted that our lifestyle, especially pertaining to travelling, would change dramatically with their arrival. Note: we are both first-time cat owners. The predictions were quite right in some ways - the cats have changed us significantly, but not quite in the way people predicted: many thought that we could travel less to avoid prolonged time away from our cats, and spend more time home to keep them company. We didn't. We just brought them on our travel with us! </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDrIjrXDADRrpghVO6l_hGMm4bWrMqq-i5oyiNMqgEB0TFHA4Fv81CHVY7RlH3gftPZjHSCDAZSUUjKnihrwSKVTQ07M6qf_-xCd9Z6FRk4nIMWLOLqruYohqTbCTSlkHQWh2jKF1DiezGhIIwax-0_koWDt9ik6M4zcozDuqrwF4nHZg2X2tqYKir/s4000/20221024_174324_2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDrIjrXDADRrpghVO6l_hGMm4bWrMqq-i5oyiNMqgEB0TFHA4Fv81CHVY7RlH3gftPZjHSCDAZSUUjKnihrwSKVTQ07M6qf_-xCd9Z6FRk4nIMWLOLqruYohqTbCTSlkHQWh2jKF1DiezGhIIwax-0_koWDt9ik6M4zcozDuqrwF4nHZg2X2tqYKir/w400-h225/20221024_174324_2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kimchi plotting taking over Sardinia.</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Okay, it is definitely a learning journey (pun intended), and now we have several short and long trips under our belt (NL, Sweden, France/Spain/Andorra, UK and Italy), it makes sense to share our tips on making furry-friendly traveling. </p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">General tips: </span></h4><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><b>One cat per person </b>is a good ratio. I cannot imagine going on the trip with two cats alone. I did that in the beginning when Kimchi and Eleven were kittens, and that was already a workout for my arms. </li><li><b>Electric buses or cars </b>are much better for transportation than benzine/hybrid vehicles. Both cats are more relaxed in more quiet space. Yes, the electric future is not only climate friendly, but also cats-friendly, go figure!</li><li><b>Train travelling</b>: </li><ul><li>Find out where the disability/baby-changing toilet is. (Tip: it was close to the catering car during our last train ride. Makes sense!) During a recent trip, Kimchi meowed (they usually are very quiet and hardly make any noise!), and I took that as a signal and brought her to one of the toilets, and sure enough, she just jumped from the carrier to the portable litter box, did her business, and then jumped back in the carrier. We were done in regular toilet visit duration. </li><li>We have mostly placed the carriers on the luggage rack overhead during day trips, or bought a coupe for night train - although I have a feeling that the cats find it too tiring and noisy to rest properly themselves. </li></ul><li><b>Less frequent moving</b>. We made the mistake of travelling too much in one of the earlier trips, and the cats got so tired towards the end of the travelling. Since then we try to have on average 3 nights per location. </li></ul><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt_L8Du1xEaEFTtv49uTd2BiKgdlTFNrWMGBfXalAnr1QQKMB_2feC2IgkLjgIVV13IBg1tVcdQ9SixsZA0hyA-tX8jxoWmgKwGPMyzqQYm1kN0NpIemhIIPk64tR8wEd7keUo53LLxv_L7VJ41qdfHzZPardcFO2Wjb_5hofAZd9wj0YJc2reX20U/s4032/20220213_175201_2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2087" data-original-width="4032" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt_L8Du1xEaEFTtv49uTd2BiKgdlTFNrWMGBfXalAnr1QQKMB_2feC2IgkLjgIVV13IBg1tVcdQ9SixsZA0hyA-tX8jxoWmgKwGPMyzqQYm1kN0NpIemhIIPk64tR8wEd7keUo53LLxv_L7VJ41qdfHzZPardcFO2Wjb_5hofAZd9wj0YJc2reX20U/w400-h208/20220213_175201_2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cats crashing out on the last night of a busy trip</td></tr></tbody></table><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><b>GPS trackers </b>for allowing them to go outside. We use <a href="https://www.tractive.com/" target="_blank">Tractive GPS</a> and are happy with them. </li><li><b>Small steps </b>to start off: We started by taking the cats (when they were still kittens!) out and about in the neighbourhood first, and later on for day trip and overnight trip with the cats, and even visit friends' places with them. I cannot measure their confidence level with some sort of scientific assessment, but it does seem that over time the cats become quite calm about new places and strange scents. </li></ul><h4 style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXPJDjY2Tw3U5nIEPKcQAj6uG_YrkGNnqffLFw4wR33RSr0gpK2YV3JyN-3pOSu4O_gCD_RzK7VNUAD_byumnx0PQnftJGSpPGCDCp5Ej-RPzIFwwYqV1m8xcPg1zJKK9usIdJtOHzgR1sJ4uEkHgRsJ7lmMRvaGD_hg6fuIp5bSd_wsW5HLUkzfc/s4032/20210729_181015.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXPJDjY2Tw3U5nIEPKcQAj6uG_YrkGNnqffLFw4wR33RSr0gpK2YV3JyN-3pOSu4O_gCD_RzK7VNUAD_byumnx0PQnftJGSpPGCDCp5Ej-RPzIFwwYqV1m8xcPg1zJKK9usIdJtOHzgR1sJ4uEkHgRsJ7lmMRvaGD_hg6fuIp5bSd_wsW5HLUkzfc/s320/20210729_181015.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kitten training in a train!</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">What we bring with us:</span></h4><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Travel carriers: strong frame, sturdy bottom, and well padded with their favorite blankets, so cats feel safe and secure in them. And yes, one that you can strap down in a car. Further, the carriers serve also as sleeping/hide-out spots. Needless to say, soft-bottomed ones are a definite no-go. Oh, and we place the carriers in easily accessible places in our house when it is not in active use, so the cats are used to them, instead of getting scared of them and only associating the carriers with traumatic experiences like going to the vet's office. </li></ul><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTRuwyh_CagYd-IP17D1paSs-Kb1w3z4qBE5gXony0QqZLrSqkqw88_Etc1IKACWKGaJetIZR86c_cPsCRh_L_-eYRS9hDxCHkUQYdktiL7ffeS9w43cRzvOstHXuJa6MmYA57jrwYJX6McxbXrmihEYwmQ9kz4klsCrt7JpEQvknwdkLf_IyX_k6X/s4032/20220923_225825.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTRuwyh_CagYd-IP17D1paSs-Kb1w3z4qBE5gXony0QqZLrSqkqw88_Etc1IKACWKGaJetIZR86c_cPsCRh_L_-eYRS9hDxCHkUQYdktiL7ffeS9w43cRzvOstHXuJa6MmYA57jrwYJX6McxbXrmihEYwmQ9kz4klsCrt7JpEQvknwdkLf_IyX_k6X/w400-h300/20220923_225825.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Night train from Amsterdam to Basel, Switzerland</td></tr></tbody></table><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Cat food: We don't bring so much when travelling. We just get it along the way. Plus, cats deserve trying different local taste too, no? I know, I know, they like their routines; but in my opinion, it is okay to cautiously expand their comfort zone too.</li><li>Flat, shallow and wide bowls for food and water: cats have sensitive whiskers, so it is something that we take extra care of. Google it if you are not sure. The shape of bowls is one of the biggest mistakes that cat owners make. That, and putting food and water bowls next to each other. Don't!</li><li>Small water container: I got a small plastic container with a lid from a thrift shop, which I can slide into the carrier through the opening so the cats can drink some water during long rides without letting them out. </li><li>Portable litter box and scoop: I repurposed a second-hand <a href="https://www.stokke.com/EUR/en-ee/bath">portable baby bathtub</a> as a cat litter box - it is waterproof, foldable and reasonably light, and we even added a custom shoulder strap, so yeah, we are happy and proud with the solution! We have experimented with wood-, sand- and silicone- based sand. The jury is still not quite out yet.</li><li><a href="https://www.ikea.com/us/en/p/lurvig-play-tunnel-for-cat-white-pink-00464877/">Roll-up tunnel</a>: play/hide area. The cats love it, and it can be easily fold up! One of the best investments ever. Thanks, IKEA!</li><li>Scratch pad: <a href="https://www.ikea.com/us/en/p/lurvig-scratching-mat-natural-30377794/">IKEA had a good one - foldable!</a> that we tied around legs of furnitures. We lost one during a recent travel so we just bought a replacement cardboard one and that worked well too, albeit more bulky.</li><li>Calming spray: we use <a href="https://www.feliway.com/nl/producten/feliway-classic-spray">FELIWAY Classic Spray</a>. We don't always use them, but occasionally, and it is good to have than not! </li><li>Snacks: reward system for good behaviour especially during travelling is always good.</li><li>Favorite (small) toys: Eleven's favorite are these little play mice (always bring extra since they go missing), and Kimchi's favorite is a foldable cat fishing rod. Luckily they are both small. </li><li>Laser pointer: the cats looove chasing after it. </li><li>Harness and leash: we hardly use them except recently during a ferry ride. It takes a while for the cats to get moving since they don't seem like to be leashed. </li></ul><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0iOb0p805imZTzW7loR4M-TaJSFUcnaNhJJRdxqPIAstfD435VFDTxtizbCNwXMtAE5TpY7sEMoXzQcKiTRMmmy-nIqq4OZAwfz172WMN_YVoVuaZbevsoIx83WHweFSNhSoLgzuoqQr__VQcX_Tf1T1h6anl0xI8gdpMotMyxEmOHyWPbiVv4V7D/s4032/20221027_152120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0iOb0p805imZTzW7loR4M-TaJSFUcnaNhJJRdxqPIAstfD435VFDTxtizbCNwXMtAE5TpY7sEMoXzQcKiTRMmmy-nIqq4OZAwfz172WMN_YVoVuaZbevsoIx83WHweFSNhSoLgzuoqQr__VQcX_Tf1T1h6anl0xI8gdpMotMyxEmOHyWPbiVv4V7D/s320/20221027_152120.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kimchi on board!</td></tr></tbody></table><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Finally and most importantly, patience. The cats don't always move on commands, so allocate extra time. And every cat is unique, so be patient, with the cats and yourself. </li></ul><div>That is it for now. Do you have any tips that you would like to share with us? Do tell! Or if you would like to see more cat photos in future postings? Do meow!</div></div><p></p><div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8GC6dw1klz5YsI3XdvWyHoPF_OlpD4sKV477WcFap4ASojF8q8rWs4oYSDFmkc177XjeodJihtSohymOCVDvFeF-4JNV5FityWOim6jRt0brZm3x35DxU6tVW2Qq9AY-AwB72PKoszZwIs8AMafOUy5K7Rj6VwBbALp-qf4SFkOz2UVA5i1c7Oxn/s2957/20220729_091133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2218" data-original-width="2957" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8GC6dw1klz5YsI3XdvWyHoPF_OlpD4sKV477WcFap4ASojF8q8rWs4oYSDFmkc177XjeodJihtSohymOCVDvFeF-4JNV5FityWOim6jRt0brZm3x35DxU6tVW2Qq9AY-AwB72PKoszZwIs8AMafOUy5K7Rj6VwBbALp-qf4SFkOz2UVA5i1c7Oxn/s320/20220729_091133.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three explorers chilling together. </td></tr></tbody></table><br />Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-57974465065497943812022-07-11T21:07:00.020+02:002022-07-12T00:49:09.647+02:00The fireworks that I hope my mother would see<span id="docs-internal-guid-b32f2446-7fff-0319-8aa0-19ddaaa179ec"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I haven’t talked to my mom for over 13 years. And to be honest, I am terrified at the idea of it. Talking to my mom. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Luckily talking to therapists is much easier in comparison - yes, I am aware and grateful of my privileges, and I don't take it for granted, that is why I seek help. And through those constructive conversations, I have realized the importance of continuing</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"> taking care of my connection with my mom, as hard and impossible as it feels. After all, it is also to connect with the part of myself that is full of tenderness, regret, sorrow and hope. Mothers have that effect on our hearts, right?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Last year this time I recorded a </span><a href="https://www.soundportraits.ca/" style="font-family: inherit; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">sound portrait</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> of my mom: basically Q came up with a list of questions about her, and one evening after work, Q asked me to respond to them from my perspectives and memory, a bit of Q&A if you will. For example, one of the questions was "tell me about your favorite memory of you mom". Long story short, we recorded my responses to the questions, and that became my sound portrait of my mother through my eyes and expressed with my voice. Afterwards I shared a link of the Sound Portrait recording with my mom via email, to which she actually acknowledged to my surprise. A simple "thank you" was enough to bring me to tears, even now.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Anyway, the sound portrait was probably the first meaningful connection that I have sent to her in the past 13 years. It is such a frail sign of affection from a comfortable and safe distance - probably for both parties. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">And before you ask, no, I don’t have the means nor courage to face my mother. The reasons are not relevant at this point. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">All you need to know is that I feel that we, my mother and I, are on isolated islands separated by far waters, connected with faint heartbeats of waves. I honestly don’t know if we are drifting apart or closer. Only time will tell. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the meantime, I will continue sending out occasional fireworks from my side, whenever I find enough strength, hoping my mom will see them. And maybe the best way is to just continue sending sound portraits? I don't have any other better ideas. Do you? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">So let me turn the table around. Those of you who have mothers or have had mothers. </span><b style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tell me. </b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><b style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></b></p></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span><ul style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-inline-start: 48px;"><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>What would you like to know about your mother? Or wish you had known?</b></span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>What would you like to tell your mom? Or wish you had told your mom?</b></span></p></li></ul></span></span><span><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I hope to get more inspiration from your brilliance, and continue sending fireworks to my mom. After all, I may not be able to close the gaps between us, but maybe it will add some passing colors to just heavy darkness, and who knows, maybe my mom will also get a glimpse of the fireworks and for those brief moments, we can feel each other’s warm existence.</span></p><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">P.S. And why haven't you shared your own responses to these questions with your moms? Do that.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq7gobmqTs4QQRpFwfMZmxmQe8HX58dkvrZQ9FfAVx9m6yDjGY3LguDoPB9JWvxfLYZooH82IhcRcEVQoRBBOjeudTJ_IO56O2tnk59czId_2UUvBSnrcHUhEVpVfCw1QdsXwJxPLv3s_jLzAzxOwbfmZRhgTMIQPowmjq6FSKIwXtJI7zGo0FoSB9/s4011/dawid-zawila-E9b5kcgCR9Y-unsplash.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2687" data-original-width="4011" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq7gobmqTs4QQRpFwfMZmxmQe8HX58dkvrZQ9FfAVx9m6yDjGY3LguDoPB9JWvxfLYZooH82IhcRcEVQoRBBOjeudTJ_IO56O2tnk59czId_2UUvBSnrcHUhEVpVfCw1QdsXwJxPLv3s_jLzAzxOwbfmZRhgTMIQPowmjq6FSKIwXtJI7zGo0FoSB9/w400-h268/dawid-zawila-E9b5kcgCR9Y-unsplash.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@davealmine?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Dawid Zawiła</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/fireworks?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><p></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-50908166586756380912021-04-28T16:53:00.009+02:002021-04-29T06:55:20.726+02:00The best home there is<p>We sold our beloved Casa yesterday, eleven years after we gave it its name, "home" in Spanish, as we drove away from Abu Dhabi, setting our eyes on Patagonia. And what a home it has been for us. This is my love letter, to Casa, the best home there is.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NKooVJxV5do/YIlzsvsrfRI/AAAAAAAAzWQ/8nUNuRM1rkw2qDSmxkEc8rh1qNt5E8-VwCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/20210428_094556.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NKooVJxV5do/YIlzsvsrfRI/AAAAAAAAzWQ/8nUNuRM1rkw2qDSmxkEc8rh1qNt5E8-VwCPcBGAsYHg/s320/20210428_094556.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>First of all, when riding through places with Casa, we were travellers, not tourists, almost warriors like. We feel absolutely invincible. It was like having your most experienced and reliable ally with you all the time. Casa was always ready to spring away at your heart´s desire, <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2011/03/driving-in-colombia.html" target="_blank">negotiating difficult roads</a> and <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2011/02/fun-game-of-border-crossing.html" target="_blank">crossing tiring borders</a>. </p><p>Together, we have enjoyed some of the most breathtaking views one can imagine, <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/06/turkey-experience-ups-and-downs-with.html" target="_blank">over</a> and <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/09/iguazu-falls.html" target="_blank">over</a> and <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/11/selected-views-for-you.html" target="_blank">over</a>, sampled some of the <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2011/05/48-chowhound-hours-in-mexico.html">most delicious food</a>, shocked by some of the <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2011/04/venezuela-zombie-cars.html" target="_blank">cheapest gasoline</a>, and endured <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/09/day-in-bolivia.html" target="_blank">harsh conditions </a>- oh Bolivia, Casa (and us) probably still shakes its head at <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/09/just-cant-get-enough-of-bolivia.html" target="_blank">Bolivia</a>. For a home that can travel, Casa has lived to the fullest. </p><p>Of course we could not have gone as far as we did if not for Casa carrying all our stuff for us. All the tools, gadgets, food, tent, we crammed as much as we could into the trusty panniers on Casa. I will forever treasure any day when I have only two sets of clothes within reach. Trust me, you can get very creative with various combinations, but I digress. In short, life was beautifully and unapologetically simple on Casa - <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2011/02/forty-kilometers-of-dirt-road.html" target="_blank">as long as the pannier does not fall off</a>. </p><p>There are definitely times when one of us gets impatient, and that is okay with Casa. We took <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/12/roadside-stops.html" target="_blank">roadside </a><a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/12/roadside-stops.html" target="_blank">time-outs</a>, stretching our legs a little, waiting for dusts to roll by before hopping back on it and continuing with cooler heads. </p><p>When Casa breaks down - and this happened<a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/06/iran-experience-english-and-motorcycle.html" target="_blank"> again</a> and<a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/09/gran-chaco.html" target="_blank"> again</a> and<a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/11/our-luck-in-gods-office.html" target="_blank"> again</a> - we sat down and worked them through together. Not to mention some of the most intolerable environments, Casa was there to witness them all, in <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/07/far-from-glamorous.html" target="_blank">Iran</a> and in <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2012/04/in-between-los-antiguos-and-bajo.html" target="_blank">Argentina</a>. Oh, all the stories we still tease each other fondly after all these years. </p><p>And most of all, we loved meeting people with Casa, many of whom were just <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/06/iran-experience-casa-craze.html" target="_blank">curious and adventurous</a>. They always asked us <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2011/01/where-are-you-from.html" target="_blank">where we come from</a>: UAE, Germany, China, The Netherlands, Canada... "What? But why does Q look so Asian?" Oh yeah, the Philippines is also in the mix. Casa and us, we were an inevitable <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/10/one-hundred-hours-for-two.html" target="_blank">cultural bomb</a> wherever we rolled. All the while growing together, <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2011/02/forty-kilometers-of-dirt-road.html" target="_blank">more capable</a>, <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/07/back-to-roots.html" target="_blank">more grounded</a>, <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2011/03/you-asked-now-we-answer-part-i.html" target="_blank">more connected</a>, <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2011/02/quest-of-unsoring-butts.html" target="_blank">more gentle</a>, <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2011/01/sons-of-maria.html" target="_blank">more heart</a>.</p><p>My huge gratitude to Q for God-knows-how-many hours, days and weeks that he has spent tweaking, fixing and improving Casa. They have been best buddies for each other in ways that I probably can never fully comprehend, and I am grateful for the chance to have witnessed this unique friendship so intimately. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RZJwh3-kVcU/YIlwvebx8jI/AAAAAAAAzV4/zBFbYP6dpf4gV3KK-Ts6SkLPQlqir1W5gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20190528_191822.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RZJwh3-kVcU/YIlwvebx8jI/AAAAAAAAzV4/zBFbYP6dpf4gV3KK-Ts6SkLPQlqir1W5gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20190528_191822.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>And now, 170,000 km (!) and 40 countries later, we part ways with Casa. Unfortunately it is getting increasingly less reliable for our travel needs - hey, you try carrying two full-sized grown-ups on your back and see how far you get. ;) </p><p>We saw off Casa wishing the next travel companion would also enjoy and treasure it. We will miss it dearly and move on with the many many many life-changing moments we shared together. Casa, thank you, for being the the best home there is. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OFVVpY-AQAw/YIlw6K-Bo2I/AAAAAAAAzWA/eRXdbn9byQwMfyk1GOX14WgNf3vDQR4QgCPcBGAsYHg/s3264/20210428_094738.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OFVVpY-AQAw/YIlw6K-Bo2I/AAAAAAAAzWA/eRXdbn9byQwMfyk1GOX14WgNf3vDQR4QgCPcBGAsYHg/s320/20210428_094738.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-34268450770111444192021-03-21T09:40:00.004+01:002021-03-21T11:24:36.204+01:00Five winter jackets<p>I have a total of five winter jackets and I did not wear any of them this winter. It is time to decide what to do with them, and for that, I need help, your help. </p><p>First of all, why I haven't worn any of the winter jackets. It is not just because I am slightly mental (you should know that already), but also because of my practice with <a href="https://youtu.be/Y1ial3Rc7Xg" target="_blank">Wim Hof Method</a>. That means with the cold exposure practice, I have been walking outside all winter in my regular indoor clothes, so just sweater and jeans. Contrary to my deeply-rooted Chinese cultural belief to always dress warmly, I have not gotten sick from doing so. Those diaphragm hyperventilation and hypoventilation breathing exercises really turn on an internal heater, and I feel very comfortable with keeping a healthy core body temperature without wearing a winter jacket. Yes, my fingers do get cold, and I need to make sure they are protected by gloves, but other than that, I love how refreshing it feels and the fact that I can just leave the house any time without having to stop and getting completely covered. In fact I feel physically stronger coming out of this past winter season than any of the past ones, so that is really nice! </p><p>Okay, enough of cold exposure. Let's talk about the real issue here: the jackets and why I need your help. To say that I am quite sentimental is probably an understatement. I cried when I had to let go a pair of old hiking shoes right there in the middle of a shoe store where I found a new replacement pair. That was 2010 in Abu Dhabi, and now these jackets living in the Netherlands. All of them are all dear to me in various different ways. Below I will give a run-down. In chronological order of their acquisition - of course there is an order. </p><p>Side note 1: please ignore my bare legs. I asked Marjolein, a neighbour, to help take the photos since Q was not home that day. And I was in a bit of rush after a quick run, that's why. :)</p><p>Side note 2: Sorry to bring up this "luxury problem", but it is also something that has been on my mind for a while now, so I am sure it carries more significance to just jackets, but maybe also lifestyle?</p><p><b>Jacket A - Zara black</b></p><p>Material: Rayon, polyester</p><p>Cost: CAD 100 ? (EUR 70)</p><p>Purchase situation: Bought it new when I started my first full-time job in Toronto in 2002, so that is more than 18 years ago. It has endured the harsh Canadian winters.</p><p>How does it make me feel? Chic, invincible, efficient, that I can cut a dash. In a way my default feeling with clothes is not one of posh, so this one sorta fills a void of some sort. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7MwAF0kYOgE/YFb5v2Fx2xI/AAAAAAAAxcg/MEq-SUKkKw00RKm3MopeFia6U6mt-MMuACLcBGAsYHQ/20210317_092353-COLLAGE.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2046" height="300" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7MwAF0kYOgE/YFb5v2Fx2xI/AAAAAAAAxcg/MEq-SUKkKw00RKm3MopeFia6U6mt-MMuACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/20210317_092353-COLLAGE.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>Jacket B - Canadian motorcycle </b><p></p><p>Material: "Genuine Leather" as the label proudly announced. Also "Made in Canada".</p><p>Cost: CAD 40 ? (EUR 25)</p><p>Purchase situation: Got it in a vintage shop as my travel souvenir when Q and I visited Quebec City in 2013. This was my phase of visiting second hand clothes shops during travelling. I have reduced that habit to just visiting and rarely buying. I have more than enough. </p><p>How does it make me feel? It is a motorcycle jacket. I feel extremely sturdy and tough wearing it. Also the padded lining makes me feel warm instantly. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LeK5S1b2wc0/YFb52cRgHXI/AAAAAAAAxck/XNy9REelavMSqrXAdN25L2txFIqQg6FAwCLcBGAsYHQ/20210317_092453-COLLAGE.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2046" height="300" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LeK5S1b2wc0/YFb52cRgHXI/AAAAAAAAxck/XNy9REelavMSqrXAdN25L2txFIqQg6FAwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/20210317_092453-COLLAGE.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">B</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Jacket C - Canada Goose heavy </b></p><p>Cost: SEK 100 (EUR 10)</p><p>Purchase situation: Got it in Malmo at a Saturday morning flea market with two of the best shopping companions one can find, Pernilla and Madeleine. None of us could not believe how good a bargain it was and it fit me the best, so I got it. </p><p>How does it make me feel? So warm and ready for any winter storm. It does leak feathery strands along the inside linings, but since my sweaters are grey and would not show, so that is no longer an issue.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-or6Gp2qnFaU/YFb66s-0tII/AAAAAAAAxdA/Dtai1ezByLk4Kh2rC2pv4C2APjHCUJAVwCLcBGAsYHQ/20210317_092623-COLLAGE.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2046" height="300" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-or6Gp2qnFaU/YFb66s-0tII/AAAAAAAAxdA/Dtai1ezByLk4Kh2rC2pv4C2APjHCUJAVwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/20210317_092623-COLLAGE.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">C</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>Jacket D - Austrian green</b><p></p><p>Material: 80% schurwool, 20% alpaca</p><p>Brand: Het Jagerhuis. Himalaya De Luxe. Baur Loden, Tirol. Made in Austria. </p><p>Acquisition situation: It belonged to my mother-in-law. I came across this jacket during the massive clean-up effort post her funeral in end 2019. My husband and I have never ever seen her wearing it - although Wads was quite a fashionista and probably had enough clothes to cover the entire Celebesstraat (her street), so it really shouldn't surprise us that much. :) Anyway, back to the jacket, the original sleeves were too short, so I extended to the best ability I could. </p><p>How does it make me feel? Wads had a very elegant and stern presence, channeling a bit of Jackie Kennedy. I feel very much wrapped by her presence wearing the jacket. Not to mention the cool and high Austrian mountain flare. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-L1zBRdk0RDg/YFb6_6ukUWI/AAAAAAAAxdE/Js_qozoaK-A3Qfs3KiCw0zf10A5yh4scACLcBGAsYHQ/20210317_092724-COLLAGE.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2046" height="300" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-L1zBRdk0RDg/YFb6_6ukUWI/AAAAAAAAxdE/Js_qozoaK-A3Qfs3KiCw0zf10A5yh4scACLcBGAsYHQ/20210317_092724-COLLAGE.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">D</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>Jacket E - Arcteryx water-proof</b><p></p><p>Material: Down-filled and Gore-tex</p><p>Cost: EUR <strike>150? 200? 300?</strike> €420 (just found the receipt)</p><p>Purchase situation: My Canada Goose was too heavy for the Dutch winter. Since I don't like shopping and Q does, Q volunteered to help me find one. He found this jacket online, ordered it, and it fits - voilà! (N.B. This was in September 2019, so just before Wads passed away, so I got the order of D and E wrong, doh!)</p><p>How does it make me feel? Super functional and practical. Also somewhat feminine with the tailored shape.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tEu7l2U2SyA/YFb6AJwYvjI/AAAAAAAAxcs/xQrlEJHwXQMoamt2Hwism-sduJ_NJISYQCLcBGAsYHQ/20210317_092843-COLLAGE.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2046" height="300" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tEu7l2U2SyA/YFb6AJwYvjI/AAAAAAAAxcs/xQrlEJHwXQMoamt2Hwism-sduJ_NJISYQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/20210317_092843-COLLAGE.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">E</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Would you help me? </b>The help I need is your advice on what I should do with the jackets. Which one(s) should I keep? And which ones should I let go? </p><p>On the second note, if you are interested in getting any of them, let me know. I am American size 8-10, Medium. </p><p>Much love and happy spring cleaning! 💓</p>Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-36832038814196554462020-10-01T15:21:00.003+02:002020-10-01T15:21:30.000+02:00Portrait of my mom<p> Here's a video with my mom I wanted to share with you.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8sKIYx0zWTk" width="320" youtube-src-id="8sKIYx0zWTk"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="text-align: left;">Or click </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8sKIYx0zWTk&cc_lang_pref=en&cc_load_policy=1" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">this link</a><span style="text-align: left;"> to watch<br />(English and Dutch subtitles available)</span></span></div><p></p><p>This was part of a <a href="https://www.omroepwest.nl/tv/programma/170000131/Van-de-Kaart" target="_blank">TV-show</a> called Van de Kaart (<a href="https://www.omroepwest.nl/tv/programma/170000131/Van-de-Kaart/aflevering/170231730/Archipelbuurt-Den-Haag" target="_blank">full episode here</a>, no subtitles) she used to watch<a href="https://www.omroepwest.nl/tv/programma/170000131/Van-de-Kaart">TV-show</a> herself. It's made by a local station that has a group traverse from A to B in as much a straight line as possible, having to climb walls and go through houses. In this particular episode, shot on October 11, 2017 (one day before her birthday and right in between the passing of my dad (2015) and my mom (2019), they happened to meet my mom. As they pass through the house she tells her about herself and my dad, and she invites them to join her for tea. I think this is a beautiful portrait of her, showing her exactly the way she was.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7sEbVAhOaHk/X3XRaDu0SLI/AAAAAAAB7tY/1x6I8ZjpujsFqfMlBsRJUPdb4IeQgPu6wCPcBGAsYHg/s1666/20190125_154532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="My mom in January 2019 in Barcelona" border="0" data-original-height="1294" data-original-width="1666" height="249" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7sEbVAhOaHk/X3XRaDu0SLI/AAAAAAAB7tY/1x6I8ZjpujsFqfMlBsRJUPdb4IeQgPu6wCPcBGAsYHg/w320-h249/20190125_154532.jpg" title="My mom in January 2019 in Barcelona" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">My mom in January 2019 in Barcelona</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>We are organizing a remembrance walk for my mom Sunday, Oct 4, 2020, see the invite below. For those too far away who would like to 'join': do your own walk in remembrance of my mom wherever you are. She would love that 😊</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6wAG_TE60q8/X3XT7m_TbPI/AAAAAAAB7tk/A1e18De1XfAkpNzjrStjfB5GdD_MomrEQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/unnamed.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1447" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6wAG_TE60q8/X3XT7m_TbPI/AAAAAAAB7tk/A1e18De1XfAkpNzjrStjfB5GdD_MomrEQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/unnamed.png" /></a></div><div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">A Walk in Memory of Wads</span></b><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><div dir="ltr"><span style="color: black;"><div><br /></div><div>It has been almost a year since Wads left us. We would like to remember her by organizing a walk together on <b>Sunday 4 October</b>. <b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>When</b>: <b>11:00</b>. We will start walking at 11:10, so please be on time. </div><div><b>Where</b>: <b>In front of Koffietent John & June's at Prinsevinkenpark</b> <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://goo.gl/maps/7Xb3BMHkdAbiMDcF6&source=gmail&ust=1601516642550000&usg=AFQjCNGsjgy7KlGnzoLX4aZ5c6no-00hrw" href="https://goo.gl/maps/7Xb3BMHkdAbiMDcF6" rel="noreferrer" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">https://goo.<wbr></wbr>gl/maps/7Xb3BMHkdAbiMDcF6</a>. There is free parking close by. Bus 22 and trams 1 and 9 are close by as well.<br /></div></span><div><b style="color: black;">What</b><span style="color: black;">: </span><b style="color: black;">An easy walk under an hour</b><span style="color: black;"> visiting a few places including Scheveningse Bosjes, Celebesstraat, Archipelbuurt, </span><b style="color: black;">ending at the cemetery</b><span style="color: black;">. We will keep a friendly 1,5m distance and please feel free to wear face masks as you prefer. </span><br /></div><span style="color: black;"><div><b>After the walk</b>, for those who want to join: Dimsum at 13.00 at China Town Dimsum & Grill Wagenstraat 100 (<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://goo.gl/maps/PqFMw3KKnPiUB9Kc7&source=gmail&ust=1601516642550000&usg=AFQjCNFwcTimTLk1f8imvZIxLK55TboJjg" href="https://goo.gl/maps/PqFMw3KKnPiUB9Kc7" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">https://goo.gl/maps/<wbr></wbr>PqFMw3KKnPiUB9Kc7</a>). Due to COVID, please make your own reservation directly with the restaurant, but we will try to arrange so we sit in the general area. <br /></div><div> </div><div><b>Your response</b>: </div><div><ol><li style="margin-left: 15px;">Let us know if you are joining, but <b>No RSVP required</b>. </li><li style="margin-left: 15px;">Also, please <b>share this </b>with others who may be interested. </li><li style="margin-left: 15px;">Again, if you join us for dimsum, please make your own reservation with the restaurant.</li></ol></div></span><div><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><span style="color: black;"><b>A short update. </b>With lots of help from friends we have been successful in clearing out Celebesstraat 42. Many friends also took tokens from the house to remember it and my parents by. As much as we love the house, it was not our wish to live there, so in the end we decided to sell it. This was by no means an easy decision, but it feels right. One good thing came out of it: the new owners are a wonderful family with two young daughters who have plans in rejuvenating and updating the house before living there themselves. Much like my parents in 1976, they are moving from Amsterdam to The Hague . <br /></span></div><div dir="ltr"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;">We hope to see you on Sunday 4 October.</span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div dir="ltr"><span style="color: black;">----</span></div><div dir="ltr"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div dir="ltr"><div><b><span style="color: black; font-size: medium;">Wandeling ter nagedachtenis aan Wads </span></b></div><div></div></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;">Het is bijna een jaar geleden dat Wads is komen te overlijden. Om dit te herdenken organiseren we een wandeling op <b>zondag 4 oktober</b>.</span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><b>Wanneer</b>: <b>11:00</b>. We beginnen met lopen om 11:10, wees ajb op tijd.</span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div><span style="color: black;"><b>Waar</b>: <b>Voor</b> <b>Koffietent John & June's</b> aan het<b> Prinsevinkenpark</b> <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://goo.gl/maps/7Xb3BMHkdAbiMDcF6&source=gmail&ust=1601516642550000&usg=AFQjCNGsjgy7KlGnzoLX4aZ5c6no-00hrw" href="https://goo.gl/maps/7Xb3BMHkdAbiMDcF6" rel="noreferrer" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">https://<wbr></wbr>goo.gl/maps/7Xb3BMHkdAbiMDcF6</a>. Er kan gratis geparkeerd worden. Bus 22, tram 1 en tram 9 stoppen ook in de buurt.</span></div><div><b style="color: black;">Wat</b><span style="color: black;">: een </span><b style="color: black;">gemakkelijke wandeling van uiterlijk een uur</b><span style="color: black;">, denk hierbij aan de Scheveningse Bosjes, Celebesstraat, Archipelbuurt en we eindigen op de Begraafplaats Kerkhoflaan. Tijdens de wandeling houden we natuurlijk de anderhalve meter in acht. Uiteraard mag je een masker dragen als je dit wenst.</span><br /></div><div><b style="color: black;">Na de wandeling</b><span style="color: black;">, voor zij die mee willen: </span><b style="color: black;">dimsum</b><span style="color: black;"> om </span><b style="color: black;">13:00</b><span style="color: black;"> bij </span><b style="color: black;">Ch<wbr></wbr>ina Town Dimsum & Grill Restaurant</b><span style="color: black;">, Wagenstraat 100 </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; white-space: nowrap;">(</span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://goo.gl/maps/PqFMw3KKnPiUB9Kc7&source=gmail&ust=1601516642550000&usg=AFQjCNFwcTimTLk1f8imvZIxLK55TboJjg" href="https://goo.gl/maps/PqFMw3KKnPiUB9Kc7" rel="noreferrer" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">https://goo.gl/maps/<wbr></wbr>PqFMw3KKnPiUB9Kc7</a><span style="color: black;">). Vanwege de maatregelen ivm COVID vragen we ieder huishouden om zelf een tafel te reserveren. We zullen proberen bij elkaar in de buurt te zitten.</span><br /></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><b>Wat moet je doen</b>: </span></div><div><ol><li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="color: black;">fijn als je laat weten als je komt en met hoeveel, maar het hoeft niet. </span></li><li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="color: black;">deel deze uitnodiging met andere mensen die hier graag bij zouden willen zijn. <b>ZEGT HET VOORT</b>. </span></li><li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="color: black;">Nogmaals, als je mee wilt dimsummen, maak dan zelf je reservering bij het restaurant.</span></li></ol></div><div><span style="color: black;"><b>Een korte update. </b>Met verschrikkelijk veel hulp van vrienden is het ons gelukt Celebesstraat 42 leeg te halen. Velen hebben ook een aandenken aan mijn ouders meegenomen. We houden ontzettend van het huis, maar het was niet onze wens om er te gaan wonen, en hebben we uiteindelijk besloten het huis te verkopen. Dit was geen gemakkelijk besluit, maar toch voelt het goed. De nieuwe familie die er gaat wonen heeft 2 jonge dochters, ze hebben plannen om het huis te verbouwen om het weer een frisse look te geven. Net als wij destijds verhuist deze familie van Amsterdam naar Den Haag.</span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We hopen jullie op zondag 4 oktober te zien!</div></div></div><br /><p><br /></p>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1Celebesstraat, 2585 Den Haag, Netherlands52.091215700000006 4.299167930.226284954105694 -30.8570821 73.956146445894319 39.4554179tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-46157248169164243652020-08-23T19:21:00.000+02:002020-08-23T19:21:09.258+02:00The staircase<p>It's almost a year since my mother-in-law passed away. Q and I have been fortunate to go through a rigorous process of grieving and loving during this period with tremendous support from many of you. It's not easy, but I'd like to think that we are doing our best embracing it. </p><p>This afternoon we gathered with a handful close neighbors and friends, said goodbye to the house where Wads and Bart have spent more than 40 years. After everyone else left, I was able to connect with the house, sitting on the worn-out floor, walking through the empty rooms, looking out the tainted windows... The poem below is a reflection of the connection. </p><p>This is for you - those who have loved Wads, and those who have loved. </p><p>---</p><p>The Staircase </p><p><br /></p><p>I barely fit </p><p>On the midnight blue staircase step </p><p>Where she used to sit</p><p>Taking her sigsig break</p><p>After our dinner together</p><p>While I shuffled around in her kitchen</p><p>The evening quietly cleaned up.</p><p><br /></p><p>The scent of thin cigarette propagated</p><p>Down the hallway's shadows</p><p>Mesmerizing my senses</p><p><br /></p><p>What is going through her mind</p><p>When she inhales</p><p>Exhales</p><p>Inhales again.</p><p><br /></p><p>I used to wonder.</p><p>I am still wondering.</p><p><br /></p><p>Maybe some questions are best </p><p>left unanswered.</p><p>They remain the beautifully </p><p>unfinished void</p><p>Connecting us</p><p>Through time and space</p><p>Through life and beyond.</p><p><br /></p><p>I inhale, </p><p>Exhale, </p><p>Inhale again. </p><p><br /></p><p>Following the faint scent of sweet smoke </p><p>I find her again</p><p>Sitting on the midnight blue staircase step </p><p>Next to me</p><p>Leaving in my hands</p><p>A gentle squeeze. </p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x6-cgZtee5Y/X0Keg8RcHyI/AAAAAAAAsvQ/VZnAPclRzFgHtNye2d-eJU2-f2iAnfYyQCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/20200823_170756.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img alt="View into Wads' garden" border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x6-cgZtee5Y/X0Keg8RcHyI/AAAAAAAAsvQ/VZnAPclRzFgHtNye2d-eJU2-f2iAnfYyQCPcBGAsYHg/w400-h225/20200823_170756.jpg" title="View into Wads' garden" width="400" /></a></div><p><br /></p><div dir="auto"><div dir="auto"><br /></div></div>Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-92114975464684519102020-03-17T13:08:00.000+01:002020-03-17T13:08:55.290+01:00The Love Language <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IIP65xANOb4/XnC7xyHWPEI/AAAAAAAAot0/t48xZhlIPbswut8XaaaVeGBJZDUOPo4YACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/img262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1244" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IIP65xANOb4/XnC7xyHWPEI/AAAAAAAAot0/t48xZhlIPbswut8XaaaVeGBJZDUOPo4YACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/img262.jpg" width="248" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The newly-weds</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Every couple has their love language. Some are easy to see, to hear, to understand. Some are... not. Such was the case of my parents-in-law.<br />
<br />
If you walked into a typical day at Celebesstraat 42, you would have likely seen my parents-in-law in different rooms, busying about their own things. Their language appeared distanced, separated, cold and maybe even strange.<br />
<br />
But underneath it all were two wonderful individuals who could have lived very contentedly by themselves, but chose to spend their lives together. In the end they became a loving couple who ultimately were not able to live without each other.<br />
<br />
My mother-in-law loved my father-in-law in ways that break your heart. She respected him enormously. And he her. He in playing music that she would never understand but loved to listen. She in cooking dishes that he could never make, but could not have enough of. He in praising her volunteer work to people that had never met her. She in making fun of him to anyone that would want to listen.<br />
<br />
They adored each other.<br />
<br />
So was their dynamic. So was the magic of their love. It formed a formidable bond beyond life and death.<br />
<br />
Their love was expressed in ways that can be barely detected by senses, but definitely could be felt by hearts. It was so old-fashioned, so classic, so playful, so Wads and Bart.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UGpwlbwi7Sc/XnC7_iuNInI/AAAAAAAAot4/lKM6D6V9c9EIOWWl5lDcwQop7vtE-W03ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMAG0904_edit0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="752" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UGpwlbwi7Sc/XnC7_iuNInI/AAAAAAAAot4/lKM6D6V9c9EIOWWl5lDcwQop7vtE-W03ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMAG0904_edit0.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Till even death cannot do us apart...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Footnote: Special thanks to Kathryn Wellen for helping me bring the piece of writing to light and sharing with you all. We miss you, Wads and Bart.</i></span></div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-45497102879703215922018-06-17T22:52:00.002+02:002019-02-19T10:12:34.806+01:00Get Grounded<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">“So why do you choose to walk instead of other means?” Sitting opposite of a psychologist, I got a bit curious myself when I heard the question come my way. So why exactly do I choose to walk everywhere whenever possible?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">A bit of context would be helpful I suppose. Well, let's go back a few steps on the therapist part since it is rather personal and revealing. Recently I have been shopping for a psychologist here in the Netherlands. I have always found therapy a great coping mechanism, working for me for more than a decade in different countries. I am proud of it as I am of my occasional yoga and jogging. And this time around, to better cope with moving, job, love, loss, you know, all the bitter sweet things having to do with life in a new chapter. By the way, I am happy to discuss mental health any day, just like happy to discuss physical health, and spiritual health while we are on that subject. Health needs to be discussed, otherwise we end up collectively gaining more and more mental dead weight – that is not healthy. Anyway, I digress. <u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">So I told the therapist that since about a year ago I made a conscious choice of walking everywhere whenever I can. Well, if you want to know the definition of “I can”, it is about 45 min walking distance according to Google Map estimate. Yes, those are the sort of hard lines I draw in life. :) So why do I choose to walk? Primarily it has to do with being active. Your whole body is engaged in a fairly low impact but slow burning gear. There was a study showing the Masai’s from Kenya shares this type of physical exercise pattern with their herding routines, walking with cattle all day long. High-impact sports are good, but it is only one side of coin, isn’t it? And the other side can’t be just sitting in front of computer, on a couch, on a bike or in a train, so walking seems a reasonable choice.<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-obRuHi25BCo/WybJp7C5QbI/AAAAAAAAa0A/7WbOM0-bDCoSJTpV_seetYo-Eqr4A80_ACK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_20171021_122639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-obRuHi25BCo/WybJp7C5QbI/AAAAAAAAa0A/7WbOM0-bDCoSJTpV_seetYo-Eqr4A80_ACK4BGAYYCw/s320/IMG_20171021_122639.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Swedish visitors, Pernilla and Maddy were good sports, walked in a straight line following our leader. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">That and I also find walking surprisingly relaxing. There is actually opportunity to stretch neck around and look around at all the interesting buildings, trees and people. Adding a bit of slower and duller moments in busy days is surprisingly soothing. If I know I have to walk for 45 minutes, I will make sure to make time for it and enjoy the walk with listening to podcast or just looking around at random things. Q and I try to take a stroll in our neighborhood in the evening whenever possible (could always do more), discovering the city taking on a different look (you really have to see it for yourself in Haarlem to experience it), listening to the evening church bells beckoning wanderers to go home, enjoying the pace of the city slowing down and thoughts winding down. Walking is as inspiring in the morning as it is rejuvenating in the evening.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zeBPHmnuojA/WybG1rcYVGI/AAAAAAAAazc/N3hJiVMdZF0iTuKFA4rzeSkYgmF43qMVQCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_20180216_192223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zeBPHmnuojA/WybG1rcYVGI/AAAAAAAAazc/N3hJiVMdZF0iTuKFA4rzeSkYgmF43qMVQCK4BGAYYCw/s320/IMG_20180216_192223.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strolling in Lisbon with Sara & Q</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">So back in the chair across from the therapist. Why do I walk? There is something deeper. Both the therapist and </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">I fell silent. We both chewed on it for a moment because we both sensed its significance, but can't quite put our fingers on it.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">To the credit of the €150 I paid the therapist, he came up with this answer out of nowhere, “you become more grounded this way”. Yes, that is it! I love connecting to earth. Same reason as doing yoga and jogging and hiking, to connect with the nature and to be grounded.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">If we look at this in a broader sense, as we continuously move into cities (urbanization), the cities become denser and higher (densification), our environment is changing, and I am not sure if it is for the better. As we spend more and more time in various boxes that we build for ourselves, buildings, cars, buses and trains, the bigger environment becomes more of a nuance that we want to bypass or speed through as quickly as possible in name of efficiency. A bit like taking water out of natural juice to make it into concentrated version. Well, I am here to argue that water is important – and hopefully we can all agree to that. So why less rushing and add some of the water back to our busy life. Walk more is a great way to be connected to our environment, to breathe easier, and to smile. <u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">When I left the therapist’s office that evening, I can tell you there was an extra spring to my steps as I walked home. To be grounded is a meaningful way of life. Join me. Join us. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">---<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #b6d7a8; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">
<span style="background-color: #d9ead3;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>We invite you to make a virtual walk together on Saturday 7 July (+/- days) </b></span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">to join me and Q in celebrating our birthdays together</b></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">.</span><span style="font-size: 9pt;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 9pt;">You choose how long – 5 minutes, 30 minutes, 2 hours, whatever you like. You choose where, in your neighborhood, in a park, through a market, wherever you like, okay, maybe shopping malls are not my top choices. You choose how: do it alone and enjoy solidarity, or invite your family and friends and make it an outing. <b>Please remember to take a photo and share it with us. </b>It would be the best birthday gifts we can ask for of our family and friends. Let's get grounded together. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uYUq3ah8WFc/WybHzEbwebI/AAAAAAAAaz0/t69vGU_MpHcSpWryRMyGH2RmTim0WtIrACK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_20170708_150240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uYUq3ah8WFc/WybHzEbwebI/AAAAAAAAaz0/t69vGU_MpHcSpWryRMyGH2RmTim0WtIrACK4BGAYYCw/s320/IMG_20170708_150240.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From last year's annual birthday hike - inspired by Marie and Tadeáš!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-91627755568154271842017-08-29T23:25:00.001+02:002017-08-29T23:25:38.621+02:00What we carry on the bike (or: a note to self) - a video<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
On our <a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/search/label/big%20trip" target="_blank">Big Trip</a> we carried everything we needed during the 14 months of our trip on the bike. We carried everything from clothes, small rations, cooking and camping gear to some spare parts and tools to fix the bike along the way. We were self-reliant and that meant that we were free to roam wherever our bike took us.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/tt1CvhSPZfaUpF7c7eEJfXgUacw8DIM0Bh_v-ykoTIKjck3BFwfFCEOQSxleOnuEQPCyCP8CuH8DphTFQghHz2P2DGJZA5zxcTRfeHOe3WgtgR7IcziHdwnpgZCWg4GHzKljjGbZvqqr93gnJC-MNFiw8WGfAuwIM8ofMTW9VP9SGgWQ0l_cr5ntNX72j9wih2cJi_qcYXf8mBISuBqMZMEleyzPeztgcprKTCN5ktkdTug_Pjj0dZ3nIcoXactoC9eJEb8w0BCDKX4QikU3tIsW4noGuSW9h4G8UXo19eHFtrYtnOdDAQxuH3z5ZQZuhSCZSoLs6tOYFhE_WD0Iu5exd28qk7e-JgT-yhawbincJfvhrj8-TAi1TPhWpxgQk4x0XpazFRVyJ8UGTR142cigQFPS63_wN6RY2-kTXJBMjZuu42JVktz0FTBF9McnEO7pNNQPZilFVI6ID_Tdi9PfD7s_Ox2dTdhnCETZLEW9Z6anRdooEF9bcYECCH-RMrKCgZk4bos-9rUzqE4HKjgZUb07Q1Ci7PcGijGY9Te4Okypo7WGWD7GmmsBPrG0zQdnmwpbPBgiBNHIAq-all7jlGyVEzWAZdAumWF8vYds5BtA-vg1=w1024-h768-no" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/tt1CvhSPZfaUpF7c7eEJfXgUacw8DIM0Bh_v-ykoTIKjck3BFwfFCEOQSxleOnuEQPCyCP8CuH8DphTFQghHz2P2DGJZA5zxcTRfeHOe3WgtgR7IcziHdwnpgZCWg4GHzKljjGbZvqqr93gnJC-MNFiw8WGfAuwIM8ofMTW9VP9SGgWQ0l_cr5ntNX72j9wih2cJi_qcYXf8mBISuBqMZMEleyzPeztgcprKTCN5ktkdTug_Pjj0dZ3nIcoXactoC9eJEb8w0BCDKX4QikU3tIsW4noGuSW9h4G8UXo19eHFtrYtnOdDAQxuH3z5ZQZuhSCZSoLs6tOYFhE_WD0Iu5exd28qk7e-JgT-yhawbincJfvhrj8-TAi1TPhWpxgQk4x0XpazFRVyJ8UGTR142cigQFPS63_wN6RY2-kTXJBMjZuu42JVktz0FTBF9McnEO7pNNQPZilFVI6ID_Tdi9PfD7s_Ox2dTdhnCETZLEW9Z6anRdooEF9bcYECCH-RMrKCgZk4bos-9rUzqE4HKjgZUb07Q1Ci7PcGijGY9Te4Okypo7WGWD7GmmsBPrG0zQdnmwpbPBgiBNHIAq-all7jlGyVEzWAZdAumWF8vYds5BtA-vg1=w1024-h768-no" width="396" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fixing a tire in Iran - glad to have the tools and spare tire!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As happens to all <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Overlanding" target="_blank">overlanders</a>, we brought too much to begin with. It took a bit to trim the amount of stuff we brought, but we have the process pretty streamlined now. Our (little) house is packed with a quite a few items, as those of you who have visited us know. So to reduce the contents of our house to just the space on the motorcycle (our House on the trip, or '<a href="http://blog.doschinos.net/2010/06/iran-experience-casa-craze.html" target="_blank">Casa</a>', as we call her) is a liberating experience. Let me explain, we never brought souvenirs, because they take up space. Instead we sought to enjoy every place we visited and, at most, took pictures to remind us of it. This makes that you don't have to think 'should I buy that beautiful touristy trinket', we just don't, we don't have space. It makes life very simple, all your belongings we had with us and we had nothing else to worry about (well, almost, at least).<br />
<br />
Ok, I cheated a bit. Instead of souvenirs I shopped for parts for the bike instead. Brake pads in one place, tires in another, exhaust pipe guards from Argentina (a gift, even)! But those were... ahum... functional at least! But back to the point. The only things we really ended up missing which we couldn't bring were the art we have in our house and our bed. And halfway during the trip I treated myself to a small but good kitchen knife.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/y2PSk-DvRWfQmts0-jVhOvD9_C1GuUL1uiOvj535ntOCfqFmmSh-TtD7xk5rexzYoGBqxL994yQQsugB_BehgeTnh-22hwCM2dZH5Urec0gHmRlCkDarV-szeqPKiZTQxrRwLLYlbFrc7gT6UVWYZlp1usovfhL6hCrdriaz_MSFFwO15cp04rDzxQMdwl21hNrL2QL8KT9mnyQnRKRUJUDSal5kZ54JqKUmphXqM6-G4IQXelj829GdV3q6yu4vZT0sGISY4TwgJkV_wWVh9n0-8k5tqx8tZuQVHXlGhnPX8n4JtH5azTHpaRBJWXj8xQa_Mzo2NxhHOW4mvToH6ZKP2MbreUF1NsfHA3m7WDF53FZoCp0kf6VymvQYGuXebNuMR233-OUK4keZpOsZsNCmBcRbXHmY_9fJCflHi8bCRGvvFLlNEifY8YubSsg7c7F2vL1DQ9tOHDoRW70UoKozqn0W4O3RKitA9kR_sMW3c7eQjtzzqJLL5weiqgRvC6B9OXusR7QPHdjDCvetJXKmD0cFQ8dB-fSmRCNhBaKZdLE-P7V9OTcpO6HY16YVQnRRqLOAo55ZI8ck_yfrg2hXbHdo1aCuhpyja7ntHOF2MBHkK0fDqQ=s1577-no" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1577" data-original-width="1577" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/y2PSk-DvRWfQmts0-jVhOvD9_C1GuUL1uiOvj535ntOCfqFmmSh-TtD7xk5rexzYoGBqxL994yQQsugB_BehgeTnh-22hwCM2dZH5Urec0gHmRlCkDarV-szeqPKiZTQxrRwLLYlbFrc7gT6UVWYZlp1usovfhL6hCrdriaz_MSFFwO15cp04rDzxQMdwl21hNrL2QL8KT9mnyQnRKRUJUDSal5kZ54JqKUmphXqM6-G4IQXelj829GdV3q6yu4vZT0sGISY4TwgJkV_wWVh9n0-8k5tqx8tZuQVHXlGhnPX8n4JtH5azTHpaRBJWXj8xQa_Mzo2NxhHOW4mvToH6ZKP2MbreUF1NsfHA3m7WDF53FZoCp0kf6VymvQYGuXebNuMR233-OUK4keZpOsZsNCmBcRbXHmY_9fJCflHi8bCRGvvFLlNEifY8YubSsg7c7F2vL1DQ9tOHDoRW70UoKozqn0W4O3RKitA9kR_sMW3c7eQjtzzqJLL5weiqgRvC6B9OXusR7QPHdjDCvetJXKmD0cFQ8dB-fSmRCNhBaKZdLE-P7V9OTcpO6HY16YVQnRRqLOAo55ZI8ck_yfrg2hXbHdo1aCuhpyja7ntHOF2MBHkK0fDqQ=s1577-no" width="396" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Casa found a shelter in Lithuania</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Last year was the first time since the Big Trip that we traveled with all our kit on the bike again and it took some jogging of our memory to figure out what (not!) to bring. So after the 3-week trip we decided to shoot a few videos outlining what we carry on a trip.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qGNss-zlmBd3_RXyU34IrB7M9I1OAv_DjQ/preview" width="400"></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Click <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qGNss-zlmBd3_RXyU34IrB7M9I1OAv_DjQ/preview" target="_blank">here</a> to view the video if it doesn't load</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
It mainly delves into the overal details, how much capacity we had, which products we chose and what we carried and where. We shot some other videos that go more into detail of the actual contents of the bike, those I might post at another time.<br />
<br />
One could see this video mainly for ourselves in preparation for our next trip, but I know others might be interested as well to see how we did it.</div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1Haarlem, Netherlands52.3873878 4.646219400000063652.2323178 4.3234959000000632 52.5424578 4.968942900000064tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-14981672510151306372016-09-05T21:15:00.003+02:002016-09-05T21:15:37.381+02:00Moments of Cultural Shock - Today's Edition<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have been in Kenya for TWO MONTHS now - woohoo! The occasion is sure worth a celebration in the form of a blog posting, don't you think? But hmm, I am still finding things quite overwhelming here. Where do I start? It doesn't take a doctor to see that I am still having a major case of cultural shock.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
How about I start with today's Daily Nation, which is one of the most popular national newspaper. I am gonna skip the headline news of raging corruptions and political turmoils, and go straight to what I consider as "hidden gems" that I find very educational:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
#1: Number of motorcyclists who were killed in accidents this year so far: 349! A whopping 30% increase from last year. Maybe it is the motorcycle connection inside me that really felt the pain, but this was just mentioned briefly in one of the page corners. Really?! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CLaAguoLulE/V825hGPsoZI/AAAAAAAAMsg/8Iu7JTgv3K4h0MOAJ4fpssJwSZAN9ZCZQCPcB/s1600/20160905_192628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CLaAguoLulE/V825hGPsoZI/AAAAAAAAMsg/8Iu7JTgv3K4h0MOAJ4fpssJwSZAN9ZCZQCPcB/s400/20160905_192628.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
#2: 21 percent of Kenyan women/girls have "undergone" genital mutilation in the name of "rite of passage" according to this report. Wow.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LGkzkRtxTII/V825x_b7smI/AAAAAAAAMsk/NcyilrF3gnQBJIPq56isMLZzD9VSbw_YgCPcB/s1600/20160905_203638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LGkzkRtxTII/V825x_b7smI/AAAAAAAAMsk/NcyilrF3gnQBJIPq56isMLZzD9VSbw_YgCPcB/s400/20160905_203638.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
#3: The "Dear Abby" equivalent column has a letter that starts with "<a href="http://www.nation.co.ke/lifestyle/DN2/I-am-fed-up-with-my-selfish-wife-and-I-fear-for-our-children/957860-3369150-rsl3ai/index.html" target="_blank">Hi, I'm a 30 years old and married to a strange woman</a>". You know that's a fun read with that start!! Well, funny enough this is the only article I can find available online when I searched through Daily Nation's website.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Okay, now let's get to the random conversations with my colleagues today.</div>
<div>
#1: They concluded that I was "very very lucky" not to be mugged when I walked to town (just over an hour) over the weekend. To be fair, I took only major roads and it was 8 or 9 in the morning. The only thing they can deduct from my experience is that I looked like I know kongfu with my shades on, and my look was the only thing that deterred the thugs from messing with me. Ha, take that, Jackie Chan! Before you get worried, my colleagues made me promise that I would avoid doing this in the future.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xaahXademuY/V82-j_nwCII/AAAAAAAAMtQ/ix8lhFcVTA03DS9oghQfPjljoji0q7LHACPcB/s1600/20160903_085042_Pano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="80" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xaahXademuY/V82-j_nwCII/AAAAAAAAMtQ/ix8lhFcVTA03DS9oghQfPjljoji0q7LHACPcB/s640/20160903_085042_Pano.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From my walk to town. To the right is the Nairobi River. To the left you see, hey, other pedestrians, okay, they are not muzungus.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
#2: Just to stress the security risk, a colleague mentioned that while she was driving in her car and was moving slowly in traffic, both side mirrors were snatched by street thugs. She couldn't do anything but watch them go off snatching other car's mirrors. Well, she said she could go to one of the well-known roads where they sell parts - with some luck, she might just be able to spot her mirrors there if her car has <a href="https://img03.olx.co.ke/images_olxke/831678976_1_644x461_new-indelible-normal-or-computerised-car-identity-for-mirrors-windows-nairobi-cbd.jpg" target="_blank">"car identity", i.e. all the parts have the vehicle license number printed over them</a>. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
#3: For lunch today, I treated myself to a local fast food place called Big Square, The "muzungu" (foreigner) in me was very happy - nice juicy and tasty burger with fresh avocado, bacon and lettuce. In fact I was so happy that I didn't care to clean my hands from the mess and take a food photo - that is how good it was! Don't worry, Q, it is already on your visit itinerary.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Finally, we came home after work to a response left by our cleaning lady on the kitchen counter. Yes, we have a cleaning lady who comes in once a week to wash our clothes since there is no washing machine in the apartment like many others. A bit background on the note, previously we have had sms and phone call exchanges with the cleaner, but in the recent weeks, we couldn't reach her by phone, so we left her a note this morning before leaving for work. Anywhere, click to read her response:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DssYtjD-lsE/V83ARQ3UU4I/AAAAAAAAMtY/KUVKHzi5Z5ETp70kNBrZp3uaqTHFwlpDgCLcB/s1600/20160905_185005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DssYtjD-lsE/V83ARQ3UU4I/AAAAAAAAMtY/KUVKHzi5Z5ETp70kNBrZp3uaqTHFwlpDgCLcB/s400/20160905_185005.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And yep, all these moments of cultural shock are from today. To my Kenyan friends, I may look very calm on the surface, but deep down I am paddling really hard in my prolonged cultural shock. In reflection, my only saving grace is that I am not really freaked out by the cultural shock, but rather just taking them as they come, and maybe enjoying them to a great degree. I am just a bit surprised that after two months of intense cultural shock, I am still not out of the deep end yet. Not sure if I am making any sense. If I don't, you know that is the effect of cultural shock. That or I need to get sleep for another day of cultural shock. :)</div>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-76188871051925500202016-08-09T11:40:00.001+02:002016-08-09T11:40:35.446+02:00The Soap Dispenser: My First Report from Kenya<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Two weeks. For two weeks every day, I was mocked silently by the soap dispenser in the work bathroom.<br />
<br />
It is one of those pumps that dispense soapy foam on your palm when you press on it. Day one. I pressed on the soap dispenser and nothing came out. Okay, odd, but no worries, I am sure it would work the next day. A second day, a second try: I pressed and nothing came out. More days, some more presses and some more disappointment. Soon I became convinced that the soap dispenser was simply empty and left empty.<br />
<br />
Or so I thought.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ieMO4y3M7qE/V6md4IMFA0I/AAAAAAAALgE/ZEaSpUGuMMQE9fMvZTnj9u3NfkckiCBCACPcB/s1600/20160809_102613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ieMO4y3M7qE/V6md4IMFA0I/AAAAAAAALgE/ZEaSpUGuMMQE9fMvZTnj9u3NfkckiCBCACPcB/s320/20160809_102613.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><i>The soap dispenser mocks me every day.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After all, it was not the first time since I arrived in Kenya that I have experienced the uniqueness of Kenyan work protocol - I learnt quickly that you cannot just expect your request would be responded after initial request. You have to follow up. In fact, over and over, and then some more. And if you are lucky you may get the right person after what seems to be never-ending phone calls and office visits over the smallest things.<br />
<br />
In the case of the soap dispenser, I made up my mind to have a friendly chat with the cleaning lady. Even if the rest of Kenya has varying degree of clean/untidy public bathrooms, c'mon people, this is an UN office, and we've gotta uphold some standards, y'all! You can probably imagine my sense of righteousness when I ran into the cleaning lady in the bathroom, Finally. "Uhm, excuse me. The soap dispenser is empty."<br />
<br />
Upon my gesture, the cleaning lady reached over the dispenser and opened it up - it was half full. "There is", she said. I looked at the dispenser and then at her as if I just saw a Las Vegas magic show, "But look, I press on it and nothing comes out." I showed her my empty palm.<br />
<br />
"Ah," the lady reached over to demonstrate for me, "You have to use a lot of energy." A few hearty power-presses later, a small pile of soapy foam appeared on her palm.<br />
<br />
As the cleaning lady casually rinsed off the soap and carried on her way, I was left dumbfounded in the bathroom and then I burst out laughing. "You have to use a lot of energy." The sentence encapsulated the essence of my experience in Kenya so far. From negotiating prices for a mango or pineapple with fruit vendors, to practically staging a protest in the IT office before getting a work login ID, to trying to track down a handyman to schedule a visit, to waiting for the taxi rides that are always late, to trying to open a bank account and not getting any responses, to subsequently cancelling the account opening process after weeks of not getting anywhere. Just about everything in Kenya demands so much more energy. "You have to use a lot of energy", as the cleaning lady taught me. I guess this is the culture shock that I had expected.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5LJfXAihe74/V6meaZyUPYI/AAAAAAAALgI/SJTvh9atE1Y_lAs-LjWsVAIR4Os1LviFACPcB/s1600/20160805_173152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5LJfXAihe74/V6meaZyUPYI/AAAAAAAALgI/SJTvh9atE1Y_lAs-LjWsVAIR4Os1LviFACPcB/s320/20160805_173152.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lining up for a matatu (mini-bus) ride.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Don't worry though - I am actually doing really well under the circumstances and in a way, loving the challenges. But as you can imagine, it is all quite exhausting, and it is no wonder I get so tired at the end of the day. After all, I will need all the sleep I can get to wake up with "a lot of energy" - to keep pressing those soap dispensers here in Kenya. :)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-De4okOjDGrI/V6miMXNAMAI/AAAAAAAALgk/4nHR2ZRp7bAXDQPeKDohypSsxWq2yKjlACPcB/s1600/20160705_090814_Pano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-De4okOjDGrI/V6miMXNAMAI/AAAAAAAALgk/4nHR2ZRp7bAXDQPeKDohypSsxWq2yKjlACPcB/s640/20160705_090814_Pano.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The walking path is between an electrical fence and bushes and fenced walls. It is beautiful if I let myself relax enough.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
p.s. To all our friends and family for your lovely and encouraging emails from my last post, sorry that I haven't been able to response to them, but I promise I will do so soon. Your support means the world to me. Really. Thank you! :)</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-27295910240804513132016-06-22T23:17:00.001+02:002016-06-23T10:40:16.278+02:00The Next Six Months<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
By the time you read this, Q and I will probably have been long gone from this beautiful country Lithuania - two weeks go by very quickly when there are so many trees to admire, storks to count and mosquitoes to feed. Upon returning to Sweden, we will be in the heat of packing up our apartment, and away for at least the next six months. I know, after only living two years in Sweden, this sounds either completely out-of-the-blue or like a lot of bull. Trust me, the idea hasn't quite completely sunk in with me yet, and I hope it will a little more by the time I finish typing and sharing this with you. So here it goes.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kqH6huOqSF4/V2rsvKM4Q2I/AAAAAAAAeAI/nLPDYqlatBwdzYCS-0oVW9_qodCvYCwuwCKgB/s1600/20160618-P1000270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kqH6huOqSF4/V2rsvKM4Q2I/AAAAAAAAeAI/nLPDYqlatBwdzYCS-0oVW9_qodCvYCwuwCKgB/s320/20160618-P1000270.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">In Aukštaitijos National Park, Lithuania</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
Kenya, here I come!</h3>
<div>
To continue my master's study I have decided to take on an internship as a credited course, working with <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Food_Programme" target="_blank">the World Food Programme</a> Kenya country office to increase disaster preparedness capacity of some selected counties (more on this in future blog postings). So why Kenya?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Okay, let's get these out of the way first. The following are <b>NOT </b>the reasons why I am going to Kenya:<br />
<div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>To change the world. Or to save the world. Or whatever glory and pride one may associate with jobs of this nature. (For that matter, or to convince any non-believers that climate change is happening and our energy habits have either directly caused it or indirectly contributed to it. But more on that later.) </li>
<li>To run away from Q. As some of you may know, Q has been working in Ireland pretty much since my study began last fall, and I can assure you it is not fun, so living apart for the next few months will be difficult. Yikes.</li>
<li>Driving on the left (read: wrong) side of the roads. Who knew?!</li>
<li><strike>I am clueless with my life,</strike></li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
Okay, that helps me come to some of the reasons why I am going to Kenya:</div>
<div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Respect. Respect for myself, respect for others/ourselves, respect for the planet we live on. This is the key reason and I will discuss more below.</li>
<li>Because working with the United Nations sounds cool, okay? Yes, even if that means as an intern - I <i>am </i>that shallow. </li>
<li>I want to know how it is to work and live in Kenya. After China, Canada, UAE and Sweden, Africa would be a new continent for me to live in. As Q pointed out in dismay, "That is one more than me!" That really is the extent of my ambition and competitiveness, everyone. :) </li>
<li>I am clueless with my life. Okay, maybe not completely, but just enough to keep my curiosity going.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lMiR42Dh97M/V2rptiHuBdI/AAAAAAAAd_s/DpYeo3ZwFuASeDSVRLda8SbtptO85_xAQCKgB/s1600/20160619-P1050003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lMiR42Dh97M/V2rptiHuBdI/AAAAAAAAd_s/DpYeo3ZwFuASeDSVRLda8SbtptO85_xAQCKgB/s320/20160619-P1050003.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Aukštaitijos National Park, Lithuania </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
On Respect</h3>
<div>
So this is the part that will sound like a lot of bull to some of you, but heck, I have been sitting on it for so long it is time that I come clean about it. Feel free to skip if you think Q is more interesting to read about. :)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Respect for myself. </b>Life is too short for boredom. I guess I am a bit of experience junkie in some ways and working in Kenya sounds very exciting, don't you think?! On the other hand, international development projects can be quite daunting to someone who has mostly worked in private sectors. I am not naive: Kenya is very different and the public sector is a different beast. But I know if anyone can do this, it is me. :) It will be a very worthwhile way of spending part of my life. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Respect for others/ourselves. </b>Many of you have inspired me in the past. Looking back, what I appreciate most about those experiences are the differences in opinions and perspectives. The past year's study at Lund University highlights this even more to me. For example, you may know that I am not the world's most patient person (the world's most understated comment BTW), and I noticed having more respect was a key for having more patience and enjoying life better. I see Kenya as a good opportunity for this as I expect to be exposed to a wide array of differences, and I will try my best to remember to always bear respect and patience for others and ourselves. (Hmm, not sure if my logic makes complete sense, but I hope you get my drift.)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Respect for the planet Earth. </b>Here is the key connection between disaster risk reduction work and the planet earth I hope to achieve: less disaster risk -> less disaster destruction -> less loss/consumption to respond and recover to disasters > more sustainable planet. If this doesn't make sense, don't worry, I promise to add my voice to this in future postings.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
What about Q?</h3>
</div>
<div>
I swear I feel like I am Q's personal assistant in the past year answering questions like "Where is Q?"or "How is Q?" or "What about Q?". Okay, fine, I guess if that is what marriage means, oh well. Right, where am I? Hey, I didn't say that I am an effective PA. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So as for Q, he is heading in the same direction - by that, I mean in a literal sense - due south, but a lot not far from Sweden. Q will live in Amsterdam and reconnect with his roots. Having returned to Toronto once before, I feel slightly qualified to assess the situation, and call it no less challenging than my journey. But something tells me that Q will enjoy every bit of it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fu9MkU3h1-o/V2r9bKwbgbI/AAAAAAAAeAs/Bg6sgjBP-pQMq3x-CgMKgUlPWB137U-NACKgB/s1600/20160614-P1000104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fu9MkU3h1-o/V2r9bKwbgbI/AAAAAAAAeAs/Bg6sgjBP-pQMq3x-CgMKgUlPWB137U-NACKgB/s640/20160614-P1000104.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Dzūkija National Park, Lithuania</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
Can we look further beyond the six months?</h3>
Maybe, but I would rather not - the possibilities are too many and my head is not big enough for it. Beyond the six months, your guess of our whereabouts is as good as mine. So let's not go there yet and just sit back and enjoy the packing, yeah?<br />
<br />
Oh, did I mention we leave for Kenya/Holland in a week?! Do wish us good luck! :)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="240" src="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1YnbbigvQ-wSCOcPlBJDLFqu9Xlpf-Pd0hQ/preview" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(<a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1YnbbigvQ-wSCOcPlBJDLFqu9Xlpf-Pd0hQ/view" target="_blank">Video link</a> if the above video does not load properly)</span></div>
<br /></div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-42818245163594731942015-12-29T09:02:00.001+01:002015-12-30T12:29:15.636+01:00Unfamiliar feelings <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you met me in the past few weeks/months, sorry to tell you this, but most likely I was feeling constipated. Both mentally and okay, occasionally, literally. This little too much information was disclosed for a reason. It is why I haven't blogged for a very long time. Until now.<br />
<br />
My lack of blogging probably bothered very few people, except Brian (Hello, Peterborough!). But it bothered me. It took me a very long time to figure out why I was so blocked. Yesterday it finally came to me when I sat down after a refreshing morning run... <i>There has been a lot of unfamiliar feelings.</i> That is why. The much-needed realization allows me to write this update to you. It is about time.<br />
<br />
Back in May, Q and I flew to Cape Town, South Africa to attend our friend Gee's wedding. Yes, take note: we only befriend people with funny names like our own. It was my first time in Africa - allow me to ignorantly broaden this to the entire continent - and I was thrown into the deep end. With two warm and loving local families - I/we loved it! But staying with families also means deep in someone else's hair: we took a lot of effort to be good guests and adjusted to different family cultures. I managed to go for some runs while staying with Danielle and her adorable girls. It was a fenced-off golf course community living outside Cape Town. It was so deafening quiet at night that I got frightened from the automated sparklers going off. I am a little hesitant to use the South African expression here, but that is just my Canadian politically correct side freaking out: it was a "white" community.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x_1K372HSS4/VoIwpk0hETI/AAAAAAAAHXs/nIUycmoJ42E/s1600/2015-04-24%2B08.05.07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="99" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x_1K372HSS4/VoIwpk0hETI/AAAAAAAAHXs/nIUycmoJ42E/s640/2015-04-24%2B08.05.07.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Then we moved to stay with Gee's brother-in-law family, Deon and Karen, in Cape Town. It was a "colored" community. I was told not to run in the neighborhood. It was "a little risky". I don't want to come off as a racist, and you know I am not one. I only bring in the race topic because it is really a matter of fact in South Africa. In fact, it is in your face so much so that it would be wrong for me not to mention it. Read about colored in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coloured" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>. I know many Americans and Canadians would most likely feel a bit uneasy with this topic - I know I was, but luckily the family adopted us into theirs with open arms, and that helped make me feel more at ease. The video below is me trying very badly to imitate Capetonian gangster walk and talk - thanks Brian (different Brian) for leading me. Again, I don't want to offend anyone, particularly not the Capetonian gangsters, with my silliness.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/150232096?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://vimeo.com/150232096"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Click here if video does not play.</i></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
In June I was in China. I spent five weeks with my relatives. It was my first time in life spending so much time with my extended family alone, i.e. without parents or spouse. Just me. The dynamics was very tricky and rewarding. There was more interactions and I got to know my relatives much more and better. It was exactly what I needed and wanted, although very stuffy and overwhelming at times if you know what I mean.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7xj1pdWHtvs/VoI5G4hAEPI/AAAAAAAAHYY/mIoQKF3uUno/s1600/2015-06-28%2B12.26.50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7xj1pdWHtvs/VoI5G4hAEPI/AAAAAAAAHYY/mIoQKF3uUno/s320/2015-06-28%2B12.26.50.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
University started in end of August, and of course it was easy since I have been away from university for only some 13 years... Not! Academic reading and writing was a tough learning curve for me. It still is, but it is getting better. There are 22 other individuals in the programme with 13 different nationalities - think many younger and more dynamic versions of me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cfn9esoEZ1w/VoI4cz7rraI/AAAAAAAAHYE/MUMG29zyx5g/s1600/2015-09-16%2B07.25.20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cfn9esoEZ1w/VoI4cz7rraI/AAAAAAAAHYE/MUMG29zyx5g/s320/2015-09-16%2B07.25.20.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Group "sitting" (university campus dinner)</span></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
In October <i>(this was previously incorrectly indicated as "November", my apologies)</i> my father-in-law Bart passed away peacefully at his own home. He was surrounded by lots of love. In Bart's own words, he was "a Sunday's child". If you have to look up in a dictionary to see what the expression means - he got you and is probably gloating about it somewhere high above. It is a little too personal to discuss more at this point. A very unfamiliar feeling and I haven't got my head and heart around it yet.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bWueykcWmbE/VoI4Hh31NhI/AAAAAAAAHX8/PzVggy4YY2w/s1600/2015-10-18%2B14.38.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bWueykcWmbE/VoI4Hh31NhI/AAAAAAAAHX8/PzVggy4YY2w/s320/2015-10-18%2B14.38.30.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Bart's study - very Bartish</i></span></div>
<br />
Phew, so many unfamiliar feelings this year. Knowing me/us, we will likely continue having many changes and challenges. You see how I dropped running along the way as the cold and wet winter descended in Sweden. I recognize now that it is one of the easiest cures for constipation. My goal is to make plenty of runs in the new year and years to come. The number of blog postings will tell if I succeed or not. But what I loved about it is that I/we had the support and companion of all those we love - from Gee and Ali in Cape Town, to my cousins in China, to the pamily in Den Haag. We come together. Thank you.<br />
<br />
Anyway the time now is 9 AM and it is time for a run. We wish you a Happy, not constipated, 2016!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JzPCClpqP14/VoI4pCy7xOI/AAAAAAAAHYM/c1xQPt4BV2g/s1600/2015-07-19%2B11.49.43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JzPCClpqP14/VoI4pCy7xOI/AAAAAAAAHYM/c1xQPt4BV2g/s320/2015-07-19%2B11.49.43.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">So nice to have visitors especially family! :)</span></i></div>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-2542331100076737102015-08-16T20:46:00.001+02:002015-08-17T21:46:58.726+02:00A Swedish Vacation and a Swedish Essay<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="SV">Q and I took at a Swedish vacation during the past three weeks. What's a Swedish vacation, you ask? It means taking a summer course studying Swedish while living in a boarding school - yes, here in Sweden. We got to study Swedish language, watch Swedish movies, have Swedish conversations, eat Swedish food, meet Swedish residents... basically doing a lot of Swedish things. Okay, I know it sounds a bit overwhelming, but the course was super nerdy and cool - I loved it! (And Q survived his as well. At least I believe so. :)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BzZTtN9E5wY/VdDX1sX_WNI/AAAAAAAAHJo/0_XYoPehJ_U/s1600/IMG_4285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BzZTtN9E5wY/VdDX1sX_WNI/AAAAAAAAHJo/0_XYoPehJ_U/s320/IMG_4285.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>My roommate Markella from Athens and I</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV">For my class, each of the students were asked to write an essay on the topic of <i>Mitt möte med Sverige</i> (My meeting with Sweden) to enter a contest </span>by <i><a href="http://www.sverigekontakt.se/" target="_blank">Riksföreningen Sverigekontakt</a></i> (National Society Sweden Contact), the hosting organizing agency. Guess who won? :) Actually I had a real hard time at first, but luckily I got inspired, and in the end I was very proud of what I came up with... Naturally now even more proud since it would get published in the <a href="http://www.sverigekontakt.se/wp/tidningsarkiv/" target="_blank">organization's September magazine</a>. So before my head gets any bigger, here it is. It is in Swedish first, then translated into English. I feel it is important to translate it instead of rewriting it because it is a better reflection of my Swedish train of thoughts, which seems to be still very wobbly, but it is getting there...</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TKklOwz2QNQ/VdDX7tt_CLI/AAAAAAAAHJw/4zbGyEcJUGE/s1600/2015-08-14%2B21.18.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TKklOwz2QNQ/VdDX7tt_CLI/AAAAAAAAHJw/4zbGyEcJUGE/s320/2015-08-14%2B21.18.30.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Me with my teacher and organization representative - I got three Swedish books as my prize - woohoo!</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
---- </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="SV"><b>Stigen upp för berget</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV">Medan jag
klättrade upp för det lilla berget mittemot Billströmska Folkhögskolan kunde
jag inte låta bli att undra hur jag exakt hade kommit hit. Kanske planerades
min utflykt när jag kom från Malmö för två veckor sedan? Eller kanske min kurs planerades
när min man hittade ett jobb i det här gamla och vackra landet? Just det.
Kanske mitt möte med Sverige planerades när jag träffade min man, en holländsk,
i Kuba för flera år sedan. Det är precis hur jag, en kinesisk kanadensiska, hittade
mig själv i mitten av Sverige, precis som livet har planerat. Livet rör sig på
ett hemlighetsfullt sätt, eller hur?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV">Det var en fin
och bekväm sommarkväll. Solen sken och en bris blåste längs stigen. Det kändes
lätt – jag skulle orka det utan mycket kraft, tänkte jag. Det påminnande mig om
mina första veckor i landet förra året för att min man hade varit i Sverige i
flera månader och allting arrangerades. Det skulle vara en lycklig semester för
mig. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV">Men snart tog jag
en fel väg och stigen försvann under mina fötter – ”Oj”! Jag kom ihåg tillfället
när vi förlorade vårt bostadskontrakt och var tvungna att hitta en annan plats
om bara en månad. Vilken oro och ångest! Svårt var det att hitta någon som inte
var på semester i augusti, för att inte tala om hur vi lärde oss att göra
allting på svenska, ett helt nytt språk för oss. Vem visste att man kunde kolla
på Blocket så ofta som man kunde fika?! Det var nog som hur jag försökte att hitta
min egen stig nu bland taggiga buskar och hala stenar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV">Jag svär att berget
verkade mycket lägre från mitt rum tidigare. Det mumlade jag till mig själv när
plötsligt halkade jag på en klippa, ”Ai!”. Vilken tur att jag var oskadad. Pust!
Det var lite pinsamt, men inte så mycket som de oerhört många gånger när jag talade
svenska fel. En dag i mitt bostadshus försökte jag hjälpa en pojke som bar många
påsar. Han såg förvirrad ut medan jag sa,”kan jag <i>hjelpe</i> dig?” och ännu mer när jag repeterade tre eller fyra gånger.
Stackars pojke – även nu springer han snabbt iväg efter han vinkar till mig. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV">Stigen blev svårare
och jag blev väldigt svettig och smutsig. Det tog mycket mer tid än jag förväntade.
Som att plugga svenska. Tålamod måste man ha enligt några kompisar, ”Det tar
tid.” Det slog mig att ge upp. Varför inte? Många andra hade gjort det. Men det
är inte ett alternativ, inte ett bra alternativ i alla fall. Ansträngning krävs
det om jag vill bli en riktig del av samhället och inte bara en fluga på väggen.
Jag var bestämd att fortsätta klättra upp, ett steg i tåget, precis som hur jag
kan lära mig svenska – ett ord i tåget. Det ska <i>hjälpa</i> mig.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV">När jag äntligen var
framme hittade jag en otroligt vacker utsikt på toppen av en stor vit sten. Skolbyggnadens
röda tak skimmade och skärgården glittrade i havet långt borta. Ensam var jag men
jag kände mig inte ensam. För jag visste att många människor hade hjälpt att
bygga stigen som hjälpte mig komma hit. För jag visste också att många mer hade
kommit och ska komma hit. Det känns skönt att veta att jag är, som vi är, inte
ensam i våra vandringar upp för berget.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV">Missförstå mig
inte – jag älskar att cykla runt landets platta cykelvägar, men vilken fri och
öppen känsla här på toppen! Det är ganska fantastiskt med tanke på att jag inte
hade kommit upp så högt. ”Om du ska studera på ett internationellt program på
engelska”, många hade frågat mig, ”varför vill du lära dig svenska?” Svaret låg
precis framför mig – att se mer och se ytterligare. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV">När jag kom ner
såg jag en gul skylt, ”Här uppe är ett berg med vackra mönster.” Men jag vet att
det inte var det viktigaste att nå bergstoppen. Syftet är att hitta våra egna stigar.
Syftet är att bli bättre och starkare människor genom våra upplevelser. Oavsett
hur jag kom hit ska jag fortsätta klättra stigen upp för berget. Vill du gå
med?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
----</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>The path up the hill</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While I climbed the small hill opposite of the Billströmska Folk High School, I could not help but wonder how I exactly had come here. Maybe my excursion was planned when I came from Malmö two weeks ago? Or maybe my language course was planned when my husband found a job in this ancient and beautiful land? Right. Perhaps my meeting with Sweden was planned when I met my husband, a Dutch man, in Cuba several years ago. That's exactly how I, a Chinese Canadian woman, found myself in the middle of Sweden, just like life has planned. Life moves in a mysterious way, doesn't it?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a nice and comfortable summer evening. The sun was shining and a breeze blew along the trail. It felt easy - I could manage it without much effort, I thought. It reminded me of my first weeks in the country last year because my husband had been in Sweden for several months, and everything was arranged. It would be an happy holiday for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But soon I took a wrong turn and the trail disappeared under my feet - "Damn!" I remembered the moment when we lost our apartment contract and had to find another place within only a month. Oh, the anxiety! It was difficult to find someone who was not on vacation in August, not to mention how we learned to do everything in Swedish, a whole new language for us. Who knew you could check the housing website as often as you can drink coffee (N.B. Swedes drink a lot of coffee.)?! It was probably like how I tried to find my own path now among thorny bushes and slippery rocks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I swear that the hill seemed much lower from my room earlier. I mumbled it to myself when suddenly I slipped on a rock, "Ouch!". Luckily I was unhurt. Phew! It was a bit embarrassing, but not as much as the incredibly many times when I spoke Swedish incorrectly. One day at my apartment building, I tried to help a boy who was carrying many bags. He looked confused while I said, "Can I <i>hilp</i> you?" And even more when I repeated three or four times. Poor boy - even now he runs away quickly after he waves to me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The path was difficult and I was getting very sweaty and dirty. It took much more time than I expected. As for studying Swedish. One must have patience, according to some friends, "It takes time." It occurred to me to give up. Why not? Many others had done it. But it is not an option, not a good option anyway. It is required effort if I want to become a real part of society and not just a fly on the wall. I was determined to continue to climb, step by step, just like how I can learn Swedish - a word at a time. It'll <i>help </i>me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I finally arrived, I found an incredibly beautiful view on top of a large white stone. The school building's red roofs shimmered and the archipelago glistened in the sea far away. I was alone, but I did not feel lonely. For I knew that many people had helped to build the path that helped me get here. For I also knew that many more had come and will come here. It feels good to know that I am, just like we are, not alone in our paths up the hill.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do not get me wrong - I love biking around the country side's flat bike paths, but what a free and open feeling here at the hill top! That's pretty amazing considering that I had not come up very high. "If you will study in an international program in English," many had asked me, "why do you want to learn Swedish?" The answer lay right in front of me - to see more and see further.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I came down I saw a yellow sign, "Up here is a mountain with beautiful pattern." But I know it was not that important to reach the mountain top. The aim is to find our own paths. The aim is to become better and stronger people through our experiences. No matter how I get here, I'll continue to climb the trail up the mountain. Do you want to join?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ItztGJ8QhBo/VdDXLrzdceI/AAAAAAAAHJg/9iCD9FVhZhQ/s1600/2015-08-08%2B18.04.28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ItztGJ8QhBo/VdDXLrzdceI/AAAAAAAAHJg/9iCD9FVhZhQ/s320/2015-08-08%2B18.04.28.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Me on the hill top</span></i></div>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-36126906907913754792015-03-09T13:36:00.001+01:002015-03-10T17:12:00.150+01:00Speaking (a tiny little) Swedish on Radio!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Speaking of challenges... I am organizing an open house for the Malmö Toastmasters Club, and our PR team did a fantastic job reaching out to the local media outlets. As a result, another club member, Magnus Andersson, and I were given an interview opportunity on the Sveriges Radio (SR) P4 Malmöhus radio station!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9gHg7x62O6M/VP2RFBsO1DI/AAAAAAAAHC4/UP25kqhPkSg/s1600/2015-03-09%2B10.24.36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9gHg7x62O6M/VP2RFBsO1DI/AAAAAAAAHC4/UP25kqhPkSg/s1600/2015-03-09%2B10.24.36.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
It was particularly challenging for me because the interview was mostly conducted in Swedish. In addition, it was live broadcasting, and there was no script! Luckily Magnus did most of the weightlifting - God, he has a gorgeous voice! I understood the conversation somewhat, and
actually attempted to speak a little Swedish here and there, and that was nerve-wracking.
My head was looping something like this in the first couple of minutes, "<i>Ahhh! *Need to calm down otherwise you won't understand anything.* Ahhhhh!</i>" <a href="http://sverigesradio.se/sida/artikel.aspx?programid=96&artikel=6111830" target="_blank">Check out the SR article and audio here</a>!<br />
<br />
They say be careful of what you wish for, eh? It is so true. :)</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-48944041308055933322015-03-06T00:32:00.001+01:002015-03-06T12:15:12.837+01:00"It is F!@&ING challenging!"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"So how do you enjoy life in Sweden?" I remember when the curious question came up from one of Q's friends at a casual Christmas gathering (sans Q, of course). By then I was already midway into my visit in Holland, so admittedly I got a little boring after answering this type of questions. "It is ... challenging", I answered. "Oh, is that a diplomatic way of saying that you hate it but you can't really say it?", the question persisted. It made me smile when people want real meaningful answers and not just some BS - it is Holland after all. :) "No, I mean it is F!@&ING challenging" I emphasized with a even broader smile, and was pleased to see some mildly shocked and definitely satisfied looks. I continued,"It feels like riding a motorcycle on a tricky road full of twists and turns, and I'm loving it."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oUmyVGQ3xTs/VPjgeQhehGI/AAAAAAAAHBk/_Izpwml6E90/s1600/2015-02-02%2B19.55.28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oUmyVGQ3xTs/VPjgeQhehGI/AAAAAAAAHBk/_Izpwml6E90/s1600/2015-02-02%2B19.55.28.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Okay, no twists or turns here, but snow helps pose as interesting biking condition in Malmö.</i></div>
<br />
A few months back I took one of those super comprehensive personality tests that apparently the HR departments in Scandinavians love using. Out of some 25 scale categories, I ranked "high" for the "Experiences" scale, which shows "how prepared one is to try new activities and be emotionally stimulated by the world". The real surprise to me was in how others can perceive this. "People around them may become frustrated and fatigued by this impulse to always want to try out new things and rarely or never use existing experience or knowledge..."<br />
<br />
This reminded me of a story back in 2011 when a friend congratulated me in returning to Toronto. I know the friend meant well and is a most caring person, but the following comment caught me off, "It is about time for you to settle down, eh?"<br />
<br />
Then it dawned on me that this friend is not alone in the chorus. I recall several people felt it was a very risky move to, well, move. And some think that it is just a phase thing that I would pass through eventually. The comments almost made me doubt my mental maturity level. Then I realized that I like being immature anyways, so it really doesn't matter, ha!<br />
<br />
Back to now and 8 months after moving from Toronto to Sweden, I still don't know what settling down means. I think the thought somewhat terrifies me. I feel that the world is full of roads with twists and turns. Settling down just seems like ... having a beautiful motorcycle - yes, a yellow & black one named Casa for example - and only ride back and forth to the office. Don't worry. It is just a metaphor and not at all what Q does.<br />
<br />
Sure, one can experience plenty of new things while still living in the same place... But moving to another country just changes the landscape completely that it is so crazy! I have no choice but to adapt quickly. It is effing challenging and I am learning to enjoy the process more and more.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I have to be so focused that I drop other important things in life like blogging for example. Here are some "challenges" that had kept me busy in the past couple of months...<br />
<br />
- I promised myself not to work for the first year in Sweden, and I broke that promise - trust me, I really hesitated in breaking it, but it is also important to embrace the opportunities life presents sometimes. Anyway, over January and February, I prepared and taught a <b>6-week pilot course on public speaking</b> with a small group of participants. It is an fantastic entrepreneurial exercise as I launched it under the <a href="http://talkandawe.com/" target="_blank">talk&awe</a> banner. It was very "challenging" as I set the goal for myself to put together a most fun and rewarding positive learning experience for everyone involved. And what fun and rewarding it was! After receiving some glowing review from the participants, the organizers and I plan to give the course again in mid-April - WOOHOO!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4oDctfD5X0s/VPjhmxGIPdI/AAAAAAAAHCA/lNHtpiyI9pU/s1600/IMG_6710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4oDctfD5X0s/VPjhmxGIPdI/AAAAAAAAHCA/lNHtpiyI9pU/s1600/IMG_6710.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
- In February I passed the <b>Swedish National Test</b> for immigrants! The test itself was quite gruelling: lasting over two days including four parts: reading, listening, speaking and writing. It is quite a feat. Now I continue to study on my own while waiting for the next level's class to start. I feel that I built a fairly solid Swedish language foundation, now I just need to build on top of it and keep progressing... which may be a little "challenging" because of the next point...<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
- Last but not least, I applied for university study and was accepted to the <b><a href="http://www.lth.se/index.php?id=95423" target="_blank">Disaster Risk Management and Climate Change Adaptation master's programme</a> at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lund_University" target="_blank">Lund University</a></b>. It is a two-year programme, and it was an incredible journey to put together the application package and network to secure the spot. Can't wait to put on my backpack and go back to school in a few months!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ANAfbNWFphg/VPjgu_CnYHI/AAAAAAAAHBs/rzVrh2QETGo/s1600/2015-03-04%2B14.24.48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ANAfbNWFphg/VPjgu_CnYHI/AAAAAAAAHBs/rzVrh2QETGo/s1600/2015-03-04%2B14.24.48.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Sorry, Toronto - spring is already here in Malmö!</i></div>
<br />
So yes.... Life continues to be challenging and I continue to love it. I wouldn't take it any other way, you know. It is in my blood. And to my/our lovely friends and family, thanks for cheering me/us on!</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-5839432939727881532014-12-18T23:23:00.001+01:002014-12-18T23:23:07.794+01:00The Magic of Home Experience<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
November in Barcelona can get rather cool. Q and I tried to warm up ourselves as we followed Sara up the staircase into her parents' apartment. As we climbed up step by step, she reminded us repeatedly - yes, over and over as Sara does sometimes which I used to have no patience for, but God, I love that about her now. Where was I? Right, Sara warned us about the language barrier with her Mum, Dad and Grann, over and over. Okay, we get it, Sara. When we finally stepped in, we were immediately hugged by her Mum's broad smiles and immersed in the sweet aroma of a home-made paella bubbling on the gas stove. I doubt that I would ever see a paella more gorgeous in my life. Needless to say, we loved Sara's Mum and Dad and Grann, and that is not just because of the paella, but also because we were in their lovely home.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rXSfp8ZGf4Q/VJNPhGcTeoI/AAAAAAAAG_Q/gUS1QQX-JMk/s1600/2012-11-17%2B15h07m20s%2BDMC-FH3%2BP1020920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rXSfp8ZGf4Q/VJNPhGcTeoI/AAAAAAAAG_Q/gUS1QQX-JMk/s1600/2012-11-17%2B15h07m20s%2BDMC-FH3%2BP1020920.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The truth is... Magic often happens when we step into someone else's home. There is something quite terrifying and comforting about visiting, or even better, staying at someone else's home, isn't it? Personally I love it. I cannot get enough of it. I am possibly addicted to visiting people's homes, and enjoying the surprises that come with having guests. Quite selfishly, I feel that the "home" experiences just gives back so much! When I close my eyes and think back about this year, my mind is racing with memories of those trips that I made this year when I stayed with family and friends, and those of you came to visit us - I think I am rather private and don't like to name names, but you know who you are, "Thank You!" for spending the quality time with me/us!<br />
<br />
You see, it is more than a latte in a coffee shop. It is more than a 2 or 3 hour proper sitting at a fancy restaurant. It is a lot more than all that. It is about seeing the chaos and madness of finding a darn plate before food gets burned, and helping each other in those vulnerable moments... or eating burnt food together. It is about simply enjoying each others' presence and afterwards savioring those moments of content silence. It is living life to the fullest. It is heavenly. <br />
<br />
I guess this is my long-winded pitch in convincing you, our friends and family, to find ways to come visit us in Sweden in the coming years. (Okay, we do live on the 4th floor so you can use that as a convenient excuse if you like.) And also my own pledge to myself of visiting more of you in the future. (Just speaking for myself so my therapist doesn't have a fit about me speaking for Q. :) Because you know as well as me, life is indeed short, but love like that in Barcelona is truly long-lasting. <br />
<br />
To our friends and family who have spend "home time" with us, and who want to, and who will - Have a wonderful holiday season in whichever home you find yourself in. I hope it is warm and it smells like a delicious paella! :)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jawReoO0IBw/VJNPfCw2WJI/AAAAAAAAG_E/WmyJ_yWEUEA/s1600/2014-11-23%2B12.59.22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jawReoO0IBw/VJNPfCw2WJI/AAAAAAAAG_E/WmyJ_yWEUEA/s1600/2014-11-23%2B12.59.22.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-504228087698124452014-10-26T22:27:00.001+01:002014-10-26T22:37:34.331+01:00My Swedish Miracle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I didn't believe in miracles. Let alone believe that I, yes, I, a normal human body, can make one happen. But three months after arriving in Sweden, I am seeing my own little Swedish miracle. #Oh yeah, oh yeah!# (yes, I'm doing my disco hand move.)<br />
<br />
My first week was truly a fresh-off-the-boat experience with the Swedish language. Just about all the printed information was in Swedish. That means shop signs, newspapers, government forms, and, #sigh#, supermarket flyers. Apparently those are very important to me if I want to do well as a <i>hemmafru </i>("housewife"). Not to mention if I want to really be part of the society, and not just a subculture, to know Swedish is essential.<br />
<br />
Most Swedes speak English very well, and they are very happy to speak English with you... So much so that my biggest fear was that I would easily carry on living here with English as my life jacket, as some expats/immigrants do. (To each of their own choice.) But I was determined to learn swimming in Swedish sea on my own. Personally I feel very important to live in a society where I can function normally without the constant language barrier.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uHR4bpzEezM/VE1ivJo2wnI/AAAAAAAAG80/F5TdHOVRjWY/s1600/IMG-20140715-WA0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uHR4bpzEezM/VE1ivJo2wnI/AAAAAAAAG80/F5TdHOVRjWY/s1600/IMG-20140715-WA0005.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Speed bump"</span></i></div>
<br />
But boy oh boy, did this goal of speaking Swedish feels like a miracle. Did you know that Swedish has three extra letters: <i>å</i>, <i>ä</i> and <i>ö.</i> If you do the math, that is over 10% increase from English. Apparently that pushes my brain over the edge. I was drowning in a sea of strange words and letters. One time I went to a s<i>pråkcafe</i> (language corner for new comers), and I left half way feeling so mad with myself for not understanding anything. It sucked big time.<br />
<br />
So I worked hard and I worked smart, really hard and really smart, for three months. And now, I was very pleased to see a miracle budding. Earlier today I was carrying a pseudo Swedish conversation for a good five or ten minutes, where I understood maybe a handful of words. But those words are my precious air. It feels so terribly refreshing to be able to come up and tread the water somewhat. I am incredibly proud of this achievement knowing that three months ago how depressed I felt about the situation. Hey, you try listen to the alphabets 100 times and still not getting it.<br />
<br />
Having said all this, for those who are curious, I am going to share with you what I have done, and who knows, maybe you will find one or two things helpful for your own study.<br />
<br />
<b>- Immersion. </b>Yes, it sounds intense, but it is like jumping into a cold shower, it doesn't work to wet a finger at a time. I took the plunge in converting my environment setting from English to Swedish, from declining restaurant menu in English, to getting a Swedish keyboard, to changing the mobile phone language setting... Which was quite disastrous - for a good few days, I couldn't use my phone properly. :) The hardest part of this is to ignore the lazy voice in my head, the one that wants to read English and just gloss over Swedish. I know it will continue to be a struggle, but it is getting easier day by day, and it feels very rewarding to discover more and more Swedish words that I understand as I read more material. A bit like solving little Sudoku puzzles.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>- Stay calm under water.</b> A while ago I completed a personality study, and was told that I ranked low in the "temper" category. ("You don't say!", says Q.) During the language study process, I have panicked so many times that it is bloody annoying... I just end up swallowing bitter water, and lose some precious energy and time. The good thing about aging is that I am getting better at the self-awareness, and I would have these one-on-one conversations with myself. I give myself permission to feel frustrated, but with a time limit, because we need to move on and get back on track. I like having these heart-to-heart conversations with myself. :)</div>
<br />
<b>- Stay focused and move quickly.</b> I am very grateful to Matteus from my Toastmasters club for offering me this tip. The argument here is that if I drag out my study, my mind and my friends will get used to the fact that I only speak English, and I would therefore miss some important opportunities to establish a Swedish mindset. It was one tip that helped me tremendously. Before moving to Sweden, I planned some extensive travelling. But after receiving this tip, I decided to stay in Sweden and focus on language studying.<br />
<br />
<b>- Listening and speaking over rules. </b>Schools tend to focus a lot on grammar. I like grammar. Some rules help to make sense of the language structure, but quite often we become grammar book and don't know how to verbally communicate in every day conversations. To tackle this, I made it a priority to spend time listening and speaking before taking more school lessons. I would highly recommend these four tools: <i><a href="http://8sidor.se/">8sidor.se</a></i>, <i><a href="http://lingq.com/">LingQ.com</a></i>, <i><a href="https://ankiweb.net/shared/decks/swedish" target="_blank">Swedish Core 2000 Anki</a></i> and <i><a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=air.com.hallbergryman.fabuloSwedish&hl=sv" target="_blank">Fabulo</a></i>.<br />
<br />
- <b>Think and speak like the Swedes do. </b>Nigel from the <i>vill du prata svenska?</i> ("Do you want to speak Swedish?") <a href="http://meetup.com/">Meetup.com</a> language group gave me this valuable tip. What it means is that instead of translating English expressions and sentences word-for-word, I must learn Swedish expressions, otherwise I would just end up with some Swenglish that nobody can understand! I find this quite challenging and fun. For example, I was told there is no such a thing as "sweet tooth" in Swedish, instead it is <i>gottegris</i> ("candy pig"). On a related note, Q is <i>min gulle gris</i> ("my cute pig"), ha!<br />
<br />
- <b>"I don't speak English." </b>Milada from Toastmasters shared this trick with me. Because Swedes are very eager to practice their English, they would be so quick to switch the conversation from Swedish to English, so the idea is to pretend that I only speak Chinese, and not English, so they have no choice but speaking Swedish with me. I took this a step slightly different. When I start just about all the conversations here, my opening sentences are <i>jag pratar lite svenska, men jag försoker att prata svenska</i>. <i>Är det okej? </i>("I speak a little Swedish, but I try to speak Swedish. Is it okay?")<br />
<br />
Maybe you don't quite see it as a miracle, but I do, and maybe the next time I see you, I will be able to demonstrate it to you. :) I know they are just first steps, but I am on my way up, fast-and-furious style. It is all happening. Yesss! ...Now only if Q would speak more Swedish with me, hmm... <i>Jag skojar, min gulle gris, jag skojar. </i>:)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s4_r84-ZXA4/VE1indOd2HI/AAAAAAAAG8s/2yu8pq_cWVA/s1600/20140725_082930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s4_r84-ZXA4/VE1indOd2HI/AAAAAAAAG8s/2yu8pq_cWVA/s1600/20140725_082930.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Swedish waffles also help motivate language study.</span></i></div>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-18500812650321154512014-10-09T00:16:00.002+02:002014-10-09T00:16:49.332+02:00Today I Feel Different...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This morning I slept through my usual 7.30 AM alarm and I didn't even feel bad. I took my sweet time with the morning yoga practice and wasn't checking for time. I didn't rush from going to dentist's emergency service or to my Chinese teaching appointment. Then it occurred to me... it almost seems like that I am ... <i>relaxed. </i>For the first time in the three months that I have arrived in Sweden, I am actually r-e-l-a-x-e-d. :)<br />
<br />
And I think I know exactly why. After 6 months for Q and 3 months for me, we finally finally, YESSSS FINALLY, have a space that is completely and utterly livable and all to ourselves. A home we call our own. Here is the journey we took to get here...<br />
<br />
BEFORE coming to Sweden, Q has done some hard work and found an apartment for us to live in. The contract was signed and we were all set. I shouldn't have laughed so hard on my flight to Sweden because -<br />
<br />
A WEEK after my arrival, we were informed by the landlord that the apartment has been, surprise surprise, SOLD! We were back to look for a place to live. This would have been relatively easy in a lot of part of the world, but not in Sweden, and definitely not in August. Allow me to explain:<br />
- Not in Sweden: There is some really messed up rental apartment supply and demand situation here. I don't get the whole gist of it, but it is something of a government-controlled rent control. We put ourselves on several waiting lists and were warned that it could take years before we get to have a rental through "proper" channel. Read more in these news reports: <a href="http://www.thelocal.se/20130723/49206" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://www.thelocal.se/20131113/rent-control-blamed-for-housing-shortage" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
- Not in August: August is the time when a lot of the Swedes take their month-long vacation. There is even a law in place to make sure companies allow employees to take month-long vacations in July and August, and the employees sure all do. Top to bottom. In and out. That means housing market is slow and we had a real hard time finding anyone or anything!<br />
<br />
ANOTHER WEEK passed and we realized that us finding an rental apartment was like Rob Ford quit drinking. It just was not going to happen. Okay, at least not in the near future. So we had to change our strategy. We decided to take the plunge and buy an apartment. Yep, just like that, two weeks into the country, I am faced with my biggest purchase ever. I cannot speak for Q's reaction to this, but hey, Q loves shopping. :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_JVzWCQ0i4U/VDW0VLzTFQI/AAAAAAAAG7Y/9dQEp9VrB7k/s1600/2014-08-22%2B20.55.53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YuljjgKPzr4/VDW0PZLLLGI/AAAAAAAAG6w/cPEtg8jW3N0/s1600/2014-08-01%2B07.25.19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YuljjgKPzr4/VDW0PZLLLGI/AAAAAAAAG6w/cPEtg8jW3N0/s1600/2014-08-01%2B07.25.19.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Sleeping on borrowed mattresses in an unfurnished apartment temporarily while looking. </i></span></div>
<br />
TWO MORE WEEKS passed, and we found an apartment that we like. Okay, I am probably brushing over the apartment shopping effort here considering we are new to the city and didn't speak the language, but we did just that. We found an apartment that we fell in love with. It was love at first sight... Mind you, we were oh-so desperate either one of us could marry someone with an apartment! But I digress. On my one-month mark of moving to Sweden, I, my dear friends and family, I made a bid for us on the apartment following the Swedish way - with an SMS. Yes, a short short text message that read something like this,"Dear agent, we would like to put a bid for the apartment we saw for the ###### amount. Thank you." If you do the math, each character was worth essentially thousands of dollars. If hitting that "send" button doesn't get one high, I don't know what would. <br />
<br />
ANOTHER WEEK's back and forth negotiation, yes, mostly by text messages. Some phone calls and emails on our part, since I can't stand sending texts. Anyway, we got the final agreement and a loan from the bank. That is another situation that is unique to Sweden. You can get a huge loan, and don't need to pay the principle ever, like EVER. Fine, don't believe me, read <a href="http://survivinglifeinsweden.blogspot.se/2013/09/why-pay-back-your-mortgage-if-you-dont.html" target="_blank">this</a>.<br />
<br />
WHEN we finally got the keys to the apartment, I wish I could tell you that I was happy as a new home-owner, but I wasn't. I really felt like we were forced into this commitment. A little sad, right? But no time to dwell in that, we literally got our shipment from Toronto the next day. Yeah, let's just say we went from no apartment, to an empty one, to one with just boxes, a lot of boxes. So many that Q and I were playing hide-and-seek. I still haven't found him yet. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iKhqIPI8Dng/VDW0T0YM8EI/AAAAAAAAG64/FWiCeLKa6V8/s1600/2014-08-16%2B19.46.45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iKhqIPI8Dng/VDW0T0YM8EI/AAAAAAAAG64/FWiCeLKa6V8/s1600/2014-08-16%2B19.46.45.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
But hey, at least it was a livable place, right? Uhm, NOT quite. The living room ceiling was falling apart and we had to get it fixed. That turned out to be a BIG job. Who knew. Okay, newbies here, remember? ONE WEEK, for one whole week, we tried to remove the old paint with friends' help. Oh that was so fun. I wish more of you were here, so we could share some of the fun with you, and have a little less fun ourselves. Really.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ymof5WrzTuA/VDW0UAqNqSI/AAAAAAAAG68/TJwHGdnRMuM/s1600/2014-09-17%2B14.03.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ymof5WrzTuA/VDW0UAqNqSI/AAAAAAAAG68/TJwHGdnRMuM/s1600/2014-09-17%2B14.03.12.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5KREtohdDpo/VDWsqSWc8-I/AAAAAAAAG6g/EyKK4E7kiuU/s1600/IMG-20140906-WA0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<br />
Then it comes to the moment of realization that we couldn't simply repaint it over ourselves because of the cracks in the concrete - apparently normal in these century-old buildings. Well, since Q had to work during the days, it fell on me to find a painter. That was real fun with the language barrier and cultural differences. Reading back at my notes, we contacted a total of TEN painters. Yes, that was a lot of Google Translation. And the quotes we got were all over the place. When we finally decided to go with one reputable company, it quickly became a communication nightmare. I was getting second hand information from Q, who was the initial contact with a home renovation store, which has a contract with a painting company, whose boss sent his staff to assess the job. When we realized the assessment wasn't done correctly, the staff informed his boss, who informed the store manager, who then emailed Q and Q told me. And this went back and forth a couple of more rounds, and I gave up. I found another painter, and worked with him directly. The new painter did a quick and fabulous job. ONE WEEK later, the living room was back to normal. And that was just in time for our first house guests' visit. Yay. :)<br />
<br />
That was ONE WEEK ago, it was nice to have our visitors, but it was very well deserved when Q and I got to enjoy our apartment for the first time in its normal state just to ourselves. Ahh... home sweet home. Today I feel more relaxed, thanks to you.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CTCpQ9bc3A8/VDW2Fem8ajI/AAAAAAAAG7w/NaBJSkFdbug/s1600/P1050882.RW2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CTCpQ9bc3A8/VDW2Fem8ajI/AAAAAAAAG7w/NaBJSkFdbug/s1600/P1050882.RW2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
p.s. Come visit us <a href="https://maps.google.com/maps?q=Almbacksgatan,+Malm%C3%B6,+Sverige&hl=sv&ie=UTF8&sll=55.570168,13.015972&sspn=0.238758,0.676346&oq=almbacksgatan,+malm%C3%B6,+&hnear=Almbacksgatan,+211+54+Malm%C3%B6,+Sverige&t=m&z=16" target="_blank">here</a>. :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_JVzWCQ0i4U/VDW0VLzTFQI/AAAAAAAAG7Y/9dQEp9VrB7k/s1600/2014-08-22%2B20.55.53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_JVzWCQ0i4U/VDW0VLzTFQI/AAAAAAAAG7Y/9dQEp9VrB7k/s1600/2014-08-22%2B20.55.53.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-9391121314018417902014-08-26T17:15:00.001+02:002014-08-26T17:15:24.839+02:00Help Me, Help You! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
(Take two on posting this to include video link and fix up the formatting... Previous posting will be deleted. Thanks.)<br />
<br />
Hello hello, you... I find it very difficult to talk about what has been happening to us
here in Sweden, only because there are too many things going on and my
head feels very big these days. Q thinks that I make things hard for myself sometimes. I have to agree, but that's me. I am very driven and focused about things that I deem important. Below is just one aspect,
specifically around the language study. <br />
<br />
This update will come in the form of a 6 minute speech video. For those of you who prefer to read, below is the script, more or less, but you would miss my awful awful rapping, in Swedish nevertheless! Enjoy and feel free to share your feedback!</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
---</div>
<div>
(Note: The Speech title is Help Me, Help You. It was presented at Malmö Toastmasters club's humorous speech contest, and I won! So I will go on representing the club at the area-level on Sept 20th competing against other club winners from Denmark and southern Sweden.)</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="375" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/104399450" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Video link: <a href="http://vimeo.com/104399450">http://vimeo.com/104399450</a></i></span>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have been here in this beautiful country for six weeks. <i>Jag talar lite svenska.</i> I speak a little Swedish. I realize that I have this deep, strong, fundamental need to learn more. <br />
<br />
<div>
It is not because I need to find a job and make money. Nah. That's what my husband is for. It is not because that I want to understand people. Don't tell anyone - I don't like people. And it is not because I need to understand the postings, the signs, the newspapers... "Blah blah blah". I sit on the beach. I get my drink. I enjoy the sun. Every day has been like a vacation in Thailand or Vietnam. Fantastic! <br />
<br />
<div>
So why do I need to learn Swedish? Well, to help you. You want to help me with my Swedish to help you! I am going to give you three reasons.</div>
<br />
<div>
First reason. Help me with my Swedish will help save you money! That's right. Let me tell you what happened when I first got here. I was told to go to the old city area, to this street with a very loooong name. It's hard to read. You know what. I am pretty smart. I will remember the first part and last part of the street name. I was sure I would find it. Walk my way there. There is my street. "Nor... Gatan". Another "Nor.. Gatan". And another "Nor...Gatan". I am confused - why are so many streets start with "Nor" and end with "Gatan"??? (N.B. "North...Street") I am
pretty desperate when I get lost. Do you know what I do when I get lost? I look for the police officers. Smile. "I am lost. Would you please take me back to my home?" What do you know. The Swedes are very polite and helpful. The police officer took me home... on your tax dollars, or, kroners. Now I get lost a lot, so that is a lot of police taxi rides, as I call them. That is a lot of money that you can help save if you help me with my Swedish.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
Second reason why you want to help me with your Swedish is to... Save you time! Do you see those long lines at the supermarkets? Do you know why they are there? Me. I find it very intense when it is my turn to walk up to the cashier. It is like smuggling hundreds of bottles of liquor into Sweden and walking up to the Immigrations. I get really nervous, and I try to stay calm. The cashier
just casually scan the items and says in lightening speed,"Var du bra så?" (N.B. "All good?"), and continues scanning. I on the other side, am completely stunned. What just happened?! I scratch my head and think to myself, I must be careful with my answer now. I don't want to get charged double for that chicken! "Ja...? Nej...? Ja..? Nej..?" (N.B. "Yes...No?") Wait wait, I signal to the cashier. I quickly pull out my smartphone and look up the dictionary, "Igen?" "Again?" And that was only the first question. By the end of this immigration-like or cashier session, the
line almost goes out of the supermarket door. And everyone looked a bit upset, understandably. Some of them might have been you. And guess what? I quite like shopping. I do that many times a day. So if you do the math, you want to help me with my Swedish to save you time that you can
use to line up somewhere else!<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
The last reason why you want to help me with my Swedish? To bring you entertainment. Yah! Have you noticed that Swedish has a very nice rhythm to it, beautiful language, singsongy. I quite like that when I listen to the Swedish language audiobooks. It gets boring listening to them over and over, but you know what, I can feel the rhythm. I can get it. And the more I listen to it,
the more it becomes clear to me. There is some serious music talents under this Chinese skin here. Yo yo yo! "Jag, jag, jag heter Shu. Jag, jag, jag kommer fran Toronto. Jag, jag, jag bor i Malmö!" That's right. Now you can see if you help me with my Swedish, next year, at the Eurovision Song Contest, I think I have a shot!!! I can go out there and represent Sverigeee (N.B. "Sweeeden")! Are you with me? Yesss. :)<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
So help me with my Swedish to save you money. Help me with my Swedish to save you time. And finally help me with my Swedish to bring you yo-yo-yo entertainment. Help me, help you. Help ME, help YOU! Tack så mycket.
(N.B. "Thank you very much!")</div>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-57322584967904020602014-07-29T09:30:00.000+02:002014-08-26T17:08:59.104+02:00The Middle of Middle East<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div>
Do you hold onto many email or post drafts for years? I do. Below is one from June 2009. I probably wanted to add some meaningful photos, but screw that. Here they are, my raw thoughts from our trip to Damascus, Syria - while it was still peaceful.<br />
<br />
p.s. It doesn't mean the postings on life in Sweden will come in, uhm, 5 years. It will be sooner. I promise to reflect faster this time around. Okay, I try, okay?<br />
<br />
--<br />
<br />
As Yamen, a fellow CouchSurfer, claims excitedly that Syria is in fact in the "Middle of the Middle East", I can't help but agreeing with him. In the middle of Syria is Damascus, and that's where we spent a three-day weekend trip. Here are some more random notes from the trip:</div>
<ul>
<li>I am here at the Damascus airport bathroom. I am squatting without toilet paper in sight. I am smiling. The strange comfort of inconvenience reminded me how much I love travelling.</li>
<br />
<li>Lying naked on the grey-white checker marble floor, I'm getting scrubbed down by a rather rough-looking motherly-looking woman. I was too afraid to open my eyes. The whole <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turkish_bath">Hammam </a>experience is already bizzarre enough - can I handle more? As I opened my eyes slowly, the sight is intimidating - a 12th century house is making me very self-conscious: am I worthy of showing my body to it?</li>
<br />
<li>From the many screaming kids on the plane, to the house cat spraying in Esfan's room, to the variety of local fruits, "fertile" is the word to describe Damascus.</li>
<br />
<li>The city feels so old. In fact, it is hard to find something that looks new!</li>
<br />
<li>Unlike Cesky Komolove, a fellow UNESCO old town, which is well-restored and essentially frozen with a 17th century look, the old city of Damascus is still very much living and aging. Families gathering in court yard, groups of seniors playing board games, kids never seem to get tired of playing tag-chase with neighbour friends. All among houses that are so old that you wonder if they would last another car scratching past it. I wonder if the lack of plastic surgery is of choice or lack of funding? Either way she is a beauty one would always be intrigued by.</li>
</ul>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-44318745553190883702014-06-26T05:32:00.000+02:002014-06-26T05:32:05.165+02:00We are Moving, Again!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This is the news update part of the blog posting: We are moving from Canada to Sweden! Q found a job as an air traffic control training specialist in Malmo, Sweden, and has been working there since this April, and he's loving it! Thank you, Sweden! :)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KK_4NDwD5T4/U6uSYlO4noI/AAAAAAAAGl4/Qw7RqTAp8VE/s1600/IMG_20140326_171431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KK_4NDwD5T4/U6uSYlO4noI/AAAAAAAAGl4/Qw7RqTAp8VE/s1600/IMG_20140326_171431.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">March 26, 2014 - When Q left Toronto for Sweden with his bicycle!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I really want to blog about Q's job searching journey - with his consent of course, but that will be for a different day. Today I want to talking about how I feel about leaving Toronto.<br />
<br />
====== <br />
<br />
Moving from Toronto is harder this time than I experienced last time - that was seven years ago. <br />
<br />
I realized that when I tell people about our move this time. I find myself holding back... Holding back on what I call Toronto. Toronto is so wonderful. I was simply intimidated to call her home. I carry a Canadian passport, I live in Toronto, but to call her home? Someone commented, "Ahh, you were 18 when you immigrated to Toronto? So you didn't grow up here? That's not too bad then." Does that mean I don't qualify? So I doubt, so I hesitate and so I question...<br />
<br />
But then in recent weeks this separation anxiety and sadness just keeps on building up, and I realized I just have to honour my feelings towards Toronto by calling her what she is to me - home.<br />
<br />
The city. The supportive friends. The traffic jam. The road rage. The polite apologies. The sweet air. The colorful leaves. The extreme political correctness. The occasional loud American tourists. The family gatherings. Yes, our infamous mayor. The authentic cuisine aroma. Wow, Toronto, you are such a mad house and such a comfortable home. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MjZRb4jSGv8/U6uTHmjK3vI/AAAAAAAAGmI/zPM6PjxtHoY/s1600/IMG_20140407_201612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MjZRb4jSGv8/U6uTHmjK3vI/AAAAAAAAGmI/zPM6PjxtHoY/s1600/IMG_20140407_201612.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Korean Town on Bloor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Home is special. It is inside of me. It is inside of us. As much as I don't have the absolute confidence on my Canadianism, I must find courage to recognize my roots, ground and heart. I may be physically away soon, but a part of my heart will be always attached by a long loooong invisible yet strong string to Toronto because home is where my heart is.<br />
<br />
Sometimes It takes a move away from home to realize how precious home is. I would like to think that we all have a place, sometimes many places, that we call home. Where are your homes? Where is your heart? Don't be afraid to say it out loud. Don't be afraid to show it proudly. Don't be afraid to love it passionately. <br />
<br />
I love you, Toronto. You are my home. Always.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bzmBilNL3Oc/U6uS0G9-OuI/AAAAAAAAGmA/dy4B_0QxvfQ/s1600/IMG_20140615_115840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bzmBilNL3Oc/U6uS0G9-OuI/AAAAAAAAGmA/dy4B_0QxvfQ/s1600/IMG_20140615_115840.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hart House Library at University of Toronto downtown campus - one of my safe havens in Toronto.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com4Toronto, ON, Canada43.653226 -79.38318429999998243.285985999999994 -80.028631299999986 44.020466 -78.737737299999978tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-18444148853839745212014-04-01T23:41:00.001+02:002014-04-02T23:41:24.134+02:00Eeeeeaaaasyyyyywooowwww<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Going up north from Toronto into ‘cottage country’ is a favourite past time for many Torontonians, summer or winter. We rented one such cottages close to Algonquin Park in February of 2006 and did a myriad of winter activities, including barbecuing at –23° C, snowmobiling, snowshoeing and ice skating. We considered going dog sledding, but, for whatever reason, we didn’t do it then.<br />
<div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:771c96d4-7f11-48de-b767-63ca5b50c131" style="display: inline; float: none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<div id="4dc72cbe-b355-4597-9e76-da8934e1b666" style="display: inline; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JT3ELvT2PTM&feature=youtube_gdata_player" target="_new"><img alt="" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-xk7LiM0xSBw/UzszdizvsRI/AAAAAAAAMEk/cgK8qB3LYR8/video913c5e0a2e70%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('4dc72cbe-b355-4597-9e76-da8934e1b666'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = "<div><object width=\"425\" height=\"355\"><param name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/JT3ELvT2PTM&hl=en\"><\/param><embed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/JT3ELvT2PTM&hl=en\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" width=\"425\" height=\"355\"><\/embed><\/object><\/div>";" style="border-style: none;" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="clear: both; font-size: .8em;">
This video was shot using a GoPro action camera strapped to my chest. You can see me dismounting and running at one point, and Shu had to get off as well when we were going uphill because the dogs can't burden the weight of people on the slope.</div>
</div>
<br />
This winter, being one of the harshest in the past few decades, was an excellent opportunity to finally do it. And we couldn’t have picked a better day; the sun was shining, the temperatures were positively mild at just above freezing. Check out the photos below: <br />
<embed flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F103686770047999156721%2Falbumid%2F5997429805430950737%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" height="267" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" src="https://photos.gstatic.com/media/slideshow.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400"></embed><br />
<br />
The day started with a 45-minute introduction on what we were about to set out to, including instructions on how to pick up the dogs, harness them, prepare the sled and all the commands to make the dogs go, stop, turn right or left. Then we went out to fetch the dogs and do everything that the guides had taught us.<br />
A loud and excited ‘Readyyyyyyyy, let’s GOOOOOOOOOO!!!’ will make the dogs start. They actually go like crazy! There’s nothing more these dogs want to do but run! Most will even do their business while running, doing a very funny running squat position.<br />
‘Eeeeeeeeaaaasyyyyyyyywooooow’, said in a subdued way is the way to stop the dogs. That and using the brakes… One tries, but the dogs are so excited to go that you have to fully step on the brakes to get them to stop! <br />
<div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:fa65d4a3-6c1f-4e25-910c-2a893ffc6c41" style="display: inline; float: none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<div id="09373b64-abeb-448a-a03a-b66d2e5adefc" style="display: inline; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7a7n61i7DM&feature=youtube_gdata_player" target="_new"><img alt="" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-swH9c9rFaEE/UzszeXksU2I/AAAAAAAAMEo/KVBNis4M8Z0/video97d4a95d853f%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('09373b64-abeb-448a-a03a-b66d2e5adefc'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = "<div><object width=\"425\" height=\"355\"><param name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/s7a7n61i7DM&hl=en\"><\/param><embed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/s7a7n61i7DM&hl=en\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" width=\"425\" height=\"355\"><\/embed><\/object><\/div>";" style="border-style: none;" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="clear: both; font-size: .8em;">
Here's another video, shot with our compact weatherproof Panasonic. You can see the dogs from the sled following us up close.</div>
</div>
<br />
<br />
This trip was amazing! We loved every minute of it. I would recommend doing an overnight trip as opposed to the one-day trip we did. It involves camping in a remote area and should be nothing but spectacular. <br />
We did our trip with <a href="http://www.chocpaw.com/dog-sled-2/" target="_blank">Chocpaw Expeditions</a>, the people were nothing but kind and professional and I cannot recommend them highly enough.<br />
How was your winter? What are your plans for the spring? Let us know!</div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1South River, ON P0A, Canada45.8415161505259 -79.360690048535145.8193916505259 -79.4010305485351 45.863640650525895 -79.3203495485351tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-13860297559846537982012-12-23T05:29:00.001+01:002012-12-23T05:29:07.008+01:00A Moment of Reflection<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Always have at least one crazy goal in life.</li>
<li>Surround self with positive energy and that could be friends, hobbies, places, activities... </li>
<li>Generously share positive energy, even with strangers. </li>
<li>Use love as a theme to string up life, not anger nor regret. Apply laughter generously.</li>
<li>Appreciate food and the source of food.</li>
<li>Health (physical, mental and spiritual) is the most fundamental enabler to a good life. Not money. </li>
<li>Seek help if overwhelmed. </li>
<li>You deserve a good bed.</li>
<li>Listen to Pet Shop Boys.</li>
</ul>
Enjoy the last few days of 2012 and many happy days ahead, everyone! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rMlZylWR6ak/UNaHyV68VZI/AAAAAAAAFnU/bseOJ0a5rPM/s1600/copy+2012-11-17+20h14m35s+DMC-FH3+P1020922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rMlZylWR6ak/UNaHyV68VZI/AAAAAAAAFnU/bseOJ0a5rPM/s400/copy+2012-11-17+20h14m35s+DMC-FH3+P1020922.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Shu, Sara and Q in Barcelona in Nov 2012. We love you, Sara!</span></i> </div>
</div>
Shuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09273509273801347490noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966063932086761392.post-78671686907396920832012-04-26T06:40:00.000+02:002012-05-29T22:47:09.098+02:00In between Los Antiguos and Bajo Cararacoles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
*Video Flashback*<br />
<br />
Before we hit the southern most tip of the American continent we were on the <a href="http://www.ruta40.gov.ar/" target="_blank">(in)famous</a> <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Route_40_%28Argentina%29" target="_blank">Ruta 40</a> in Argentina. Some people drive the road all 5000 km (making it one of the longest roads in the world, together with <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U.S._Route_66" target="_blank">U.S. Route 66</a>), we chose not to do that. We had crossed the border with Chile the previous day and had stayed the night in Los Antiguos. We'd driven on another part of Ruta 40 before, but that was asphalt and all smooth sailing. We knew this part would not be as easy.<br />
<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="300" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Los+Antiguos,+Santa+Cruz,+Argentina&daddr=bajo+caracoles,+argentina&hl=en&geocode=FWy5Of0dl_u6-ynV6Rm_LCrtvTEEsgMTZQpYTA%3BFXoNLP0dE7vF-ymJNVNT3TfrvTF9TVz9VpAp6Q&aq=t&sll=18.255437,-66.936951&sspn=0.796841,1.234589&mra=ls&ie=UTF8&t=m&ll=-46.954012,-71.158447&spn=1.124868,2.191772&z=8&output=embed" width="400"></iframe><br />
<small><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Los+Antiguos,+Santa+Cruz,+Argentina&daddr=bajo+caracoles,+argentina&hl=en&geocode=FWy5Of0dl_u6-ynV6Rm_LCrtvTEEsgMTZQpYTA%3BFXoNLP0dE7vF-ymJNVNT3TfrvTF9TVz9VpAp6Q&aq=t&sll=18.255437,-66.936951&sspn=0.796841,1.234589&mra=ls&ie=UTF8&t=m&ll=-46.954012,-71.158447&spn=1.124868,2.191772&z=8" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small><br />
<small> </small>
<br />
After turning off at Perito Moreno we were on Ruta 40 again, the beginning was beautiful new asphalt, and not that many cars. But then... the road ceased to exist, they were in progress of upgrading the road, and during that time all traffic was diverted to an improvised road next to the old/new road. This was one of the worst pavements possible, not only was it unpaved, it consisted of larger rocks as well. Too be honest, I was quite surprised I made it through without falling.<br />
<br />
The video was shot on that road, and as you can tell, my mood was not the best. I was even talking in Dutch to Shu at one point! (and for those who don't know her, she doesn't speak Dutch...) <br />
<br />
We ended up in a small village called Bajo Caracoles. The local 'hotel' owner knew we had little choice so tried to charge the 'hoofdprijs' as we say in Dutch (=fortune), but we managed to find a little other place with quite the reputable hygiene, but it was cheap. And the owner made delicious empanadas :)<br />
<br />
(if you read this post through the mailing list or Facebook, you’ll have to go to <a href="http://doschinos.net/" target="_blank">our blog</a> and view the video there)<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/41055168" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="400"></iframe> <br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/41055168">Somewhere on Ruta 40, Argentina</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/doschinos">Q</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2