My kids are genious. Such a stereotype phrase coming from a mother´s mouth. But I am watching them learn to speak and I am speechless.
The other day, I was standing at the beach with G in my arms. Suddenly he becomes all excited and start making a sound that sounds like Pelé, Pelé. What, I think to myself, has my South American hubby already indoctrinated this kid with Brazilian football players name... I look for Brazilians on the beach... all I see is a bunch of Chileans and some dogs. My son goes; Pelé, Pelé, woff, woff. AAAH! He means PERRO. My son knows how to say dog in Spanish. He also knows how to count to three in both Swedish and Spanish. We start in both languages saying uno, dos..../ett, tvá... and he continues with a big smile saying "tleee"! Genious. Simply genious.
Our daugther started off speaking Swedish. We saw little interest from her side to express herself in Spanish before the age of 3 - although her dad insisted with his native tongue. Then suddenly, when the grandparents from Chile visited us last summer she realized that she was "frito". The girl loves to talk but without using Spanish the tatas would not understand a single word that she said. So suddenly she started constructing complete phrases. Bur for all of you out there that are learning a foreign language note this: her Spanish is by no means perfect. It is a myth that small children learn a second language by automation. It is hard work even for them. A´s Spanish is getting better every day but the grammatical errors she still makes would pass no school exam. The main point is that she is talking and making herself understood (something many of us should dare to do when we are learning new languages). I love her own twist to the language: "Mi quiere" instead of "yo quiero", "pero" instead of "perro" (typical mistake by foreigners, not to distinguish "r" from "rr"). During the past three weeks I hear her becoming more fluent every day and realize that it won´t take long now before the "mi quiere" disappears from her vocabulary (I will shed a teer the day that happens). The latest observation is how she is working on the intonation of the question phrases. It is so cute to hear her pose a question with the Spanish twist at the end (something I myself still can forget to do when I speak Spanish - stand there like a fool when people don´t understand that they should say something based on my statement).
I love languages and I hope my kids will be blessed with many more than the two that are offered withing our family. The sooner the better.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Undiscovered beauty
We have just arrived in Santiago after a very nice family holiday some 300 km south of here. As always when traveling more than one hour outside of the capital of this country I have been struck by the beauty of the nature. This country has just so many natural treasures that make me speechless every time I am confronted with them.
We started of by visiting the Colchagua Valley - the center of the wine. Left before sunrise so that the kids would sleep the 195 km ahead of us. It worked out well and we landed at our hotel, an old mansion (Fundo) remodeled as a small guest house with the friendliest staff ever and the nicest location you can imagine Vinegrapes and sunflowers greeted us at the entrance at 9 in the morning. Our children charmed the hostess, who made sure we got some very nice homemade breakfast to start of the day. Then we headed out to the center of Santa Cruz. What a beautiful town!!! How come I have missed this place in my previous adventures? Sadly, the old city center had been badly hit by the earthquake last year. Of the Sushibar in one corner of the Plaza, it was only the toilets that were still standing while the old church did not even have such luch, cleared to the ground, no indications even of the wholy empty ground.
I suggested that we visited the local museum while G slept his day nap, just to have something to do. Was I mighty surprised... The local museum was the best collection of Chilean history, if not even Latin American history, that I have ever seen. Dinosaur sceletons to start off with, the indigenous pottery from Mexico in the North to Patagonia in the South, Original Conquistador outfits and letters, followed with the complete set of Chilean history up to the 1950´s (including a car collection big as a town hall - Formula racing cars and Chiles oldest car). How come this small town of 30.000 inhabitants has better collection of historical objects than all museum in Santiago together? I looked at the brochure handed out at the entrance. The museum was no local city museum, it was the museum of the Cardoen Foundation. Cardoen is a multibillionaire who made his fortune on weapons. Production and trade. Simple as that. His also known for being wanted by Interpol. In his home town he seems to be more of a local heroe than anything else. Interesting guy - to say the least.
The afternoon we spent in a wineyard making sure that our kids understand the concept of winemaking. Priorities in life, you know. And yes, you can taste wine with a three year old and a one year old as company. It just requires a good portion of cookies in the pocket and a very understanding husband.
One thing we learnt dearly this first day of our beautiful vacation was that lunch hours in small Chilean towns are to be respected. We did not make it in time for Chilean lunch (would have been our dinner). All restaurants close at 3-4 p.m. and do not open before 8 p.m. Not even by begging. The Mini-restaurant at the side of the main road became our salvation (or we would have had to go for yet another pollo asado with papas fritas, but remember hubby and daughter were just recovering from stomach flu which originated in poultry just one week earlier...). We ate a delicious Chilean "comida casera" for a very convenient price. I send my humble thanks to the lady that dared keeping her restaurant open despite the established Santa Cruzian norm. This family was happy again at 6 p.m. and headed for the hotel pool under the vineplantation. The whole family slept like royals that night. Lovely!
Next day we took route towards the Lake Vichuquen. No GPS, no maps, only my sense of location based on maps that I hade checked on Internet some 3 weeks ago in Finland. We passed the ancient town of Lolol and laughed out laud (LOL-LOL) all through the beautiful little village. Almost at least. Once again I was sad to see the brutal force that the earthquake had used on yet another colonial village in Chile. If Santa Cruz had lost a sushibar and a church, this town seemed to have a crack in every house and no rooftops anymore.
Our trip continues, the forest starts appearing in front of us (until now it has been almost only vines and fruit trees). The road becomes lonlier and smaller. I start doubting my built in GPS. We ask for directions...no indications of Lake Vichuquen anywhere. The locals help us find the way to an unpaved, bumpy, steep road. Hubby swears. He had promised the owner of the car (his dad) that we would not drive on any unpaved roads. Lunch has passed long time ago. Kids fed with sugary oatmeal cookies. We drive, we bump, we search for the lake. We find the lake - voilá what a beauty. But paved roads? No, no, no. More bumpy roads and no idea of where our prepaid cottage is located. Another half an hour on a very bumpy (but oh so sceanic) road. The ambiance is just slightly on the tense side inside the borrowed car. Finally, paved road and 50 meters later; our cottage! Beautiful place, playground, pool, beach etc. We later find out that we had come from the wrong direction. Instead of 4 km unpaved road, we drove 40 km. And the road around this beautiful lake could be paved, the financing of it was approved 12 years ago. Problem? The local land owners (richer side of Santiago´s population) do not want this place to be discovered by others so they keep it unpaved and thus only four wheel drivers will make it to the lake. That is also a way of marketing differentiation.
This lake is a true beauty. I remembered my year in Bellingham. During that year I stayed three times with families with houses at Lake Whatcom. Vichuquen is much like Lake Whatcom : the forest filled hills around the lake, the tranquility, and off course: the jet skies, the water skies, the wind surfers... We spent three relaxing nights at the lake. Once again, slept like royals each night.
One day we made it out to the beach on yet another bumpy road. Only 10 km this time. I still do not undestand how I managed to get green lights from hubby for this day trip. Maybe because the lake did not offer much culinary experience and I promised him a nice beef for lunch if we made it to the coastal resorts. We drew through forest plantations in the fog in the morning. Not much that we saw of the surroundings there. WE were lucky to keep the car on the road. The road was goinh in a spiral, first upwards and then downwards. The Chilean 4-wheelers did not seem to have noticed the slipperyness of the road. Drove like (crazy) kings of the road. We came out from the woods to the sea (miraculously without damages to the car) at the little fishing village called Limpimavida. Headed south towards Duao and Iloca. It did not take long for us to notice that this coastal region seemed depressed. In comparison with the beach resorts close to Santiago this seemed to be completely abandoned. I soon noted why. Maremoto - Tsunami. It erased many beach resorts down here just one year earlier. Tourists have no dared to make it back. The beautiful kilometer long beaches, completely abandoned. No kids playing the tsunami-run-away-from-the waves-game here. Houses without windows, roofs, walls. Houses without anything. Small new wooden houses next to the abandoned once. Construction sites everywhere.
I have seen pictures and heard much about the earthquake on February 27 last year. Since I spent that moment in the local library in a snowed in Haga it is hard for me to conceptualize what this moment actually meant for the Chileans. Almost three minutes of near death experience, that´s what my friends and family have told me. Three minutes. That is a long time. I usually get scared after three seconds of ground shaking...Here at the beach I understand that you can skip the word "near" and just talk about death experience. It was real here. Houses, cars, furniture and lives where sveapt away with the big waves. Still, the survivors continue their lives next to the sea. They live of the fishery of the ocean that deceived them. Even more so now that tourists are resitant to return. Life goes on.
We spend our last cash here at the beach. We would have spent even more in plastic, as a way of supporting the local community, but unfortunately credit cards are still unheard of in this place. We even tried making it out to the beach, with towels, swimsuites and the sand toys... but something made us go back to the car. The feeling of desaster was still too much present, as was the smell of burned tires and the strong wind. Still, I must insist, this was one of the most charming Chilean beach resorts I have visited. I would love to return and spend more time here some day....
Today we drove back home to Santiago. On paved serpentine roads, next to the Mataquito river. First we visited the town of Vichuquen, celebrating its 426th birthday this year. For a Chilean town that is old. Once again I am struck by the undiscovered beauty. How come that I have traveled through South America, read all guide books there are to be read (Lonely Planet, Rough Guide, Inside Chile...you name it, I have it) and never come across the name of Vichuquen. It is by far the nicest and most authentic colonial style town I have visited in the whole of South America. Maybe (foreign) tourists have not made it due to the poor road conditions... maybe the local (tourists) just never wanted an invasion of outsiders here. But now the town is falling apart of the damages from the earthquake. I just wish it would be UNESCO protected so that financing and rebuiling would be guaranteed.
This is the map we should have had with us....
Note: The road between Licaten and Vichuquen is paved nowadays..and the roads have been "straightened out" on the map, in real life they include many curves and even more hills...
We started of by visiting the Colchagua Valley - the center of the wine. Left before sunrise so that the kids would sleep the 195 km ahead of us. It worked out well and we landed at our hotel, an old mansion (Fundo) remodeled as a small guest house with the friendliest staff ever and the nicest location you can imagine Vinegrapes and sunflowers greeted us at the entrance at 9 in the morning. Our children charmed the hostess, who made sure we got some very nice homemade breakfast to start of the day. Then we headed out to the center of Santa Cruz. What a beautiful town!!! How come I have missed this place in my previous adventures? Sadly, the old city center had been badly hit by the earthquake last year. Of the Sushibar in one corner of the Plaza, it was only the toilets that were still standing while the old church did not even have such luch, cleared to the ground, no indications even of the wholy empty ground.
I suggested that we visited the local museum while G slept his day nap, just to have something to do. Was I mighty surprised... The local museum was the best collection of Chilean history, if not even Latin American history, that I have ever seen. Dinosaur sceletons to start off with, the indigenous pottery from Mexico in the North to Patagonia in the South, Original Conquistador outfits and letters, followed with the complete set of Chilean history up to the 1950´s (including a car collection big as a town hall - Formula racing cars and Chiles oldest car). How come this small town of 30.000 inhabitants has better collection of historical objects than all museum in Santiago together? I looked at the brochure handed out at the entrance. The museum was no local city museum, it was the museum of the Cardoen Foundation. Cardoen is a multibillionaire who made his fortune on weapons. Production and trade. Simple as that. His also known for being wanted by Interpol. In his home town he seems to be more of a local heroe than anything else. Interesting guy - to say the least.
The afternoon we spent in a wineyard making sure that our kids understand the concept of winemaking. Priorities in life, you know. And yes, you can taste wine with a three year old and a one year old as company. It just requires a good portion of cookies in the pocket and a very understanding husband.
One thing we learnt dearly this first day of our beautiful vacation was that lunch hours in small Chilean towns are to be respected. We did not make it in time for Chilean lunch (would have been our dinner). All restaurants close at 3-4 p.m. and do not open before 8 p.m. Not even by begging. The Mini-restaurant at the side of the main road became our salvation (or we would have had to go for yet another pollo asado with papas fritas, but remember hubby and daughter were just recovering from stomach flu which originated in poultry just one week earlier...). We ate a delicious Chilean "comida casera" for a very convenient price. I send my humble thanks to the lady that dared keeping her restaurant open despite the established Santa Cruzian norm. This family was happy again at 6 p.m. and headed for the hotel pool under the vineplantation. The whole family slept like royals that night. Lovely!
Next day we took route towards the Lake Vichuquen. No GPS, no maps, only my sense of location based on maps that I hade checked on Internet some 3 weeks ago in Finland. We passed the ancient town of Lolol and laughed out laud (LOL-LOL) all through the beautiful little village. Almost at least. Once again I was sad to see the brutal force that the earthquake had used on yet another colonial village in Chile. If Santa Cruz had lost a sushibar and a church, this town seemed to have a crack in every house and no rooftops anymore.
Our trip continues, the forest starts appearing in front of us (until now it has been almost only vines and fruit trees). The road becomes lonlier and smaller. I start doubting my built in GPS. We ask for directions...no indications of Lake Vichuquen anywhere. The locals help us find the way to an unpaved, bumpy, steep road. Hubby swears. He had promised the owner of the car (his dad) that we would not drive on any unpaved roads. Lunch has passed long time ago. Kids fed with sugary oatmeal cookies. We drive, we bump, we search for the lake. We find the lake - voilá what a beauty. But paved roads? No, no, no. More bumpy roads and no idea of where our prepaid cottage is located. Another half an hour on a very bumpy (but oh so sceanic) road. The ambiance is just slightly on the tense side inside the borrowed car. Finally, paved road and 50 meters later; our cottage! Beautiful place, playground, pool, beach etc. We later find out that we had come from the wrong direction. Instead of 4 km unpaved road, we drove 40 km. And the road around this beautiful lake could be paved, the financing of it was approved 12 years ago. Problem? The local land owners (richer side of Santiago´s population) do not want this place to be discovered by others so they keep it unpaved and thus only four wheel drivers will make it to the lake. That is also a way of marketing differentiation.
This lake is a true beauty. I remembered my year in Bellingham. During that year I stayed three times with families with houses at Lake Whatcom. Vichuquen is much like Lake Whatcom : the forest filled hills around the lake, the tranquility, and off course: the jet skies, the water skies, the wind surfers... We spent three relaxing nights at the lake. Once again, slept like royals each night.
One day we made it out to the beach on yet another bumpy road. Only 10 km this time. I still do not undestand how I managed to get green lights from hubby for this day trip. Maybe because the lake did not offer much culinary experience and I promised him a nice beef for lunch if we made it to the coastal resorts. We drew through forest plantations in the fog in the morning. Not much that we saw of the surroundings there. WE were lucky to keep the car on the road. The road was goinh in a spiral, first upwards and then downwards. The Chilean 4-wheelers did not seem to have noticed the slipperyness of the road. Drove like (crazy) kings of the road. We came out from the woods to the sea (miraculously without damages to the car) at the little fishing village called Limpimavida. Headed south towards Duao and Iloca. It did not take long for us to notice that this coastal region seemed depressed. In comparison with the beach resorts close to Santiago this seemed to be completely abandoned. I soon noted why. Maremoto - Tsunami. It erased many beach resorts down here just one year earlier. Tourists have no dared to make it back. The beautiful kilometer long beaches, completely abandoned. No kids playing the tsunami-run-away-from-the waves-game here. Houses without windows, roofs, walls. Houses without anything. Small new wooden houses next to the abandoned once. Construction sites everywhere.
I have seen pictures and heard much about the earthquake on February 27 last year. Since I spent that moment in the local library in a snowed in Haga it is hard for me to conceptualize what this moment actually meant for the Chileans. Almost three minutes of near death experience, that´s what my friends and family have told me. Three minutes. That is a long time. I usually get scared after three seconds of ground shaking...Here at the beach I understand that you can skip the word "near" and just talk about death experience. It was real here. Houses, cars, furniture and lives where sveapt away with the big waves. Still, the survivors continue their lives next to the sea. They live of the fishery of the ocean that deceived them. Even more so now that tourists are resitant to return. Life goes on.
We spend our last cash here at the beach. We would have spent even more in plastic, as a way of supporting the local community, but unfortunately credit cards are still unheard of in this place. We even tried making it out to the beach, with towels, swimsuites and the sand toys... but something made us go back to the car. The feeling of desaster was still too much present, as was the smell of burned tires and the strong wind. Still, I must insist, this was one of the most charming Chilean beach resorts I have visited. I would love to return and spend more time here some day....
Today we drove back home to Santiago. On paved serpentine roads, next to the Mataquito river. First we visited the town of Vichuquen, celebrating its 426th birthday this year. For a Chilean town that is old. Once again I am struck by the undiscovered beauty. How come that I have traveled through South America, read all guide books there are to be read (Lonely Planet, Rough Guide, Inside Chile...you name it, I have it) and never come across the name of Vichuquen. It is by far the nicest and most authentic colonial style town I have visited in the whole of South America. Maybe (foreign) tourists have not made it due to the poor road conditions... maybe the local (tourists) just never wanted an invasion of outsiders here. But now the town is falling apart of the damages from the earthquake. I just wish it would be UNESCO protected so that financing and rebuiling would be guaranteed.
This is the map we should have had with us....
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Saludando el pasado
Saludé el pasado con un vinito en Bella Vista ayer. Lleno de pacos pero el resto casi igual a 5-6 años atras. Las calles llenas de jovenes, musica de distintos estilos, meseros ofreciendo entradas liberadas y obviamente cervezas Escudo servido en botellas de un litro, y calientes. Pasé por el Bar La Otra Puerta - ya no tiene clientes. Parece que es tiempo renovar su imagen...los clientes parecen haber abandonado el bar en la misma manera que la mayoría de mis amigos de la época.
En Bella Vista me sentí casi estudiante de nuevo. Era fácil acordarse la vida sin los niños. Después de un día agotador con dos niños muy exigentes (nota: como corresponde a su edad) era rico tomarse un vinito y vivir en el momento. Discusiones interesantes, nueva gente a conocer. Después de un rato eché una mirada a mi reloj. Mostraba 01:30. Rapidamente estuve de vuelta en la realidad del momento. Tengo niños. Tengo dos niños y un marido enfermo en la casa. Los niños se despiertan muy temprano y hay que estar alerta para poder manejar las situacíones que me enfrenta.
Me despedí de mi compañia y agarré el primer taxi libre que pasó por Pio Nono. El taxista gruñó "el basurero de Macul" cuando indiqué la dirección a donde iba. Contesté que parece que el no es gran amigo del ColoColo, ya que entendí que estaba refieriéndose al estadio Monumental. Le gustó mi conocimiento de futbol y al mismo tiempo entendió que a esta gringa no se puede dar una vuelta turistico para sacarse mas jugo del viajecito.
En casa me enfrenté con la "rumba de la noche". Ya llevo tres años bailando a la misma canción asi que de tener que levantarse unas 2-3 veces por razones de sed, de chupete o de frío ya no me afecta. (Especialmente no despues de dos noches de turno de una niña muy enferma). A las 8 de la mañana las alarmas del cuarto al lado ya no me dejan apretar el botón de snooze. En fin, la diferencia entre los carretes de cinco años atras y los de hoy es que ya no existe las mañanas (días) de flojera despues. Pero, realmente me da lo mismo. Esa etapa ya pasó y ahora estoy en otra. Igual de rica... o quizas, un poquitiiiito mejor. Pero pucha que fue rico ver al barrio Bella Vista de nuevo.
En Bella Vista me sentí casi estudiante de nuevo. Era fácil acordarse la vida sin los niños. Después de un día agotador con dos niños muy exigentes (nota: como corresponde a su edad) era rico tomarse un vinito y vivir en el momento. Discusiones interesantes, nueva gente a conocer. Después de un rato eché una mirada a mi reloj. Mostraba 01:30. Rapidamente estuve de vuelta en la realidad del momento. Tengo niños. Tengo dos niños y un marido enfermo en la casa. Los niños se despiertan muy temprano y hay que estar alerta para poder manejar las situacíones que me enfrenta.
Me despedí de mi compañia y agarré el primer taxi libre que pasó por Pio Nono. El taxista gruñó "el basurero de Macul" cuando indiqué la dirección a donde iba. Contesté que parece que el no es gran amigo del ColoColo, ya que entendí que estaba refieriéndose al estadio Monumental. Le gustó mi conocimiento de futbol y al mismo tiempo entendió que a esta gringa no se puede dar una vuelta turistico para sacarse mas jugo del viajecito.
En casa me enfrenté con la "rumba de la noche". Ya llevo tres años bailando a la misma canción asi que de tener que levantarse unas 2-3 veces por razones de sed, de chupete o de frío ya no me afecta. (Especialmente no despues de dos noches de turno de una niña muy enferma). A las 8 de la mañana las alarmas del cuarto al lado ya no me dejan apretar el botón de snooze. En fin, la diferencia entre los carretes de cinco años atras y los de hoy es que ya no existe las mañanas (días) de flojera despues. Pero, realmente me da lo mismo. Esa etapa ya pasó y ahora estoy en otra. Igual de rica... o quizas, un poquitiiiito mejor. Pero pucha que fue rico ver al barrio Bella Vista de nuevo.
Food for thoughts from the Pacific
Cochayuyo. You can actually eat this. It is an algue and the Chilean coast is filled with them. Its not maybe my favourite dish but I like the fact that it has a commercial value. It just disappears from the beach in less than 24h. Simple as that. Think of this: what it the algues of the Baltic sea would have a commercial value?
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Badstrandsintensiven
Vi är tillbaka i Santiago efter nágra svalkande dagar pá beachen. Mánga intryck, mycket att skriva om men väldigt lite tid. Just nu ser sig hubben slagen av en envis magbobba. Dotterna har pipit "aj ont i magen" i tre dagar redan. Sonen gár pá som förr - allätare som han är. Men tillsvidare verkar hans mage hálla. Tar i trä och knackar mig i huvudet. Själv lyckades jag dra med mig nágra streptokocker till stranden. Det tog en stund att hitta badparadisets enda läkare. Frán Ekvador dessutom. Det tycks vara lika svárt att locka läkare frán stan till smástäderna här som i Finland. Konstigt - för den chilenska stranden är ju inte precis fránstötande. Men kanska man bara inte ska bli sjuk där, pá semester, utan sköta sádant när man är hemma i storstan.
Vára läkarbesök - tre till antalet - resulterade i lika mánga recept med 3-4 läkemedel pá varje recept. Vár lilla semesterlya ság ut som värsta intensiven efter ett tag. Ibland är det skönt med mediciner som tar bort alla tecken pá att man är sjuk. Hurra för chilensk medicinkonst! Men att lyckas lirka in 4 olika medel (med 8h mellanrum) i en viljestark och ytterst medicinsuspekt 3-áring är inget jag vill syssla med pá semester, ännu mindre med áskare. Använde istället det finska förnuftet och skippade allt annat än antibiotikan - den tar i alla fall död pá streptisarna, om de nu rákar befinna sig även i den halsen. Nágra test togs ju förstás inte pá stranden, ság inte skymten av ett labb.
Men vi hann nog njuta av vára 10 soliga och lata stranddagar ocksá. Mera om det i ett annat kapitel. Dags att hänga upp tvätt.
Foto: Läkemedelsreserven. Pá bilden fattas en flaska Tapsin (chilensk Panadol).
Vára läkarbesök - tre till antalet - resulterade i lika mánga recept med 3-4 läkemedel pá varje recept. Vár lilla semesterlya ság ut som värsta intensiven efter ett tag. Ibland är det skönt med mediciner som tar bort alla tecken pá att man är sjuk. Hurra för chilensk medicinkonst! Men att lyckas lirka in 4 olika medel (med 8h mellanrum) i en viljestark och ytterst medicinsuspekt 3-áring är inget jag vill syssla med pá semester, ännu mindre med áskare. Använde istället det finska förnuftet och skippade allt annat än antibiotikan - den tar i alla fall död pá streptisarna, om de nu rákar befinna sig även i den halsen. Nágra test togs ju förstás inte pá stranden, ság inte skymten av ett labb.
Men vi hann nog njuta av vára 10 soliga och lata stranddagar ocksá. Mera om det i ett annat kapitel. Dags att hänga upp tvätt.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
La comida revolucionaria. O mejor dicho: Pan da poto.
Un par de días antes de partir a Chile, llegué a leer un libro muy intresante sobre la comida que comemos hoy y su relacion a la obesidad del mundo occidental. El libro se llama "Matrevolutionen" (La revolucion de la comida) y está escrito por un médico sueco que lleva varios años practicando lo que el cuenta en el libro.
El mensaje era tan clarito: comes un exceso de azucar y féculas y vas a tener riesgo de en algun momento de tu vida enfermarte de las enfermedades tan comunes como diabetes2, problemas cardiovasculares, caries etc.
La sintesis es que el hombre ha comido grasas de animales por miles de años pero lo que es nuevoes en nuestra dieta es el exceso de carbohidratos. Primero, la agricultura trajo harina a nuestra dieta, segundo la industrializacion aumentó la cantidad de azucar en nuestra dieta ( nos solo por dulces sino por azucar escondidos por ejemplo en el yogurt, y en comida prefabricada) y finalmente tercero, por la recomendación de las autoridades de evitar alimentos con altos niveles de grasas de animales y altos niveles de colesterol cpmenzamops a comer aun mas carbohidratos para sustituir las grasas con algo. El ultimo punto es probablemente el que produce mas controversia.
El medico del libro presenta su propias observaciones y varios estudios recientes de Europa y Norteamerica donde se mostraba que personas que comen una dieta baja de carbohidratos y alta en grasas bajan de peso y mejoran todos sus valores de salud (colesterol, insulina etc). Muchos muchos ya no necesita medicamentos despues de cambiar su estilo de vida. Lo mas interesante de todo era como en Suecia la obesidad habia bajado por primera vez en los ultimos 30 años despues que el consumo de mantequilla comenzó a subir (despues de 30 años de baja consumo).
Cual es la explicacion que el libro nos da? Cuando comemos carbohidratos la insulina sube rapido pero baja rapidamente despues - sentimos hambre, comemos mas carbohidratos, se produce mas insulina etc. Básicamente la insulina hace que comemos mas de lo que necesitamos - hace que sentimos mas hambre de lo que realmente tenemos. El efecto? Nos gordamos. Que hace las grasas? Las grasas son según el autor un ingrendiente natural en el humano, como también el colesterol. Con mas grasas en nuestra dieta nos sentimos satisfecho por mas tiempo y ergo, comemos menos.
El autor es entonces muy critico a la comida que se come en la mayor parte del mundo occidental hoy. Los productos light no reciben buenas notas, ni la comida procesada. Hay que comer "comida de verdad" hecha de productos basicas, naturales, con los menos posible ingredientes industriales.
La información del libro no era nada de nuevo para mi, pero estaba presentada en tal manera que comencé a realmente dudar la dieta recomendada por las autoridades hoy en día. Pese al viaje planificada decidí de una cambiar mi propio estilo de vida justo en ese momento. Entonces reinicié el intento de sacar la mayoria de carbohidratos (azucar, papas, pan, arroz, pasta - especialmente pasta) de mi dieta y sustituir la necesidad alimenticia con más grasas y verduras (que crecen arriba del suelo). Tengo que decir, de haber iniciado dietas similares previamente no era para nada dificil, y lo mejor de todo es que despues de solo un par de días ya no sentía esa urgencia de comer ni chocolate ni helado. Y reduje las veces que comia de 5-6 a 3 veces por dia - sin tener hambre.
Llegando a Chile me impactó la realidad chilena. En Finlandia tenemos ya problemas de obesidad y de diabetes . Pero acá, que está pasando acá? Los patios de comida de los numerosos malls está siempre, pero siempre, llenos con familias comiendo comida chatarra. Y aqui no hablamos de familias con niños adolecentes, sino familias con niños de edad de mis niños. Coca-cola parece haber sustituido la leche como bebida que acompaña la comida. Y en los hípermercados es dificil encontrar lo que el autor del libro sueco llama "comida de verdad". Piensenlo, cuanto de los productos alimenticios que se vende en Jumbo o Lider son llenos de o azucares o féculas? Cuento que el pasillo de lácteos tenía quizas 10% de productos limpios - el resto procesado, light o sabores dulces agregados. El pasillo de los yogurtes; encontré solamente un yogurt natural, UNO unico, el resto light, cero grasas, sabores dulces. Verduras, carnes, pescados reciben mejor nota que en Finlandia - limpios, producidos cerca, frescos y sobre todo sin salsas prehechas por la industria. Despues diria que casi todo el resto eran carbohidratos de algun tipo: cereales, chips, galletas (cada uno con su pasillo propio), y obviamente un sector entero de la bebida y los jugos.
Es realmente verdad que se está exportando los malos habitos del Norte al Sur. Lo mas preocupante es que el Sur no parece tener minimo criteria de defenderse de la ola de comida dañino que se les está serviendo. Que pasó con el pescado, los mariscos, la carne asada servido con una ensalada chilena o ensalada verde? Me pongo muy preocupada - aun mas cuando veo niños de 3-4 años que ya están muy gorditos. Como puede ser? Estamos a frente de una o quizas dos generaciones perdidas? Porque aunque la dieta baja de carbohidratas y alta de grasas puede ser controversial aun hoy en dia, no puede haber nadie con minimo conocimiento de nutricion que sostiene que bebidas dulces (sean light o normal) y papas fritas son saludables.
El mensaje era tan clarito: comes un exceso de azucar y féculas y vas a tener riesgo de en algun momento de tu vida enfermarte de las enfermedades tan comunes como diabetes2, problemas cardiovasculares, caries etc.
La sintesis es que el hombre ha comido grasas de animales por miles de años pero lo que es nuevoes en nuestra dieta es el exceso de carbohidratos. Primero, la agricultura trajo harina a nuestra dieta, segundo la industrializacion aumentó la cantidad de azucar en nuestra dieta ( nos solo por dulces sino por azucar escondidos por ejemplo en el yogurt, y en comida prefabricada) y finalmente tercero, por la recomendación de las autoridades de evitar alimentos con altos niveles de grasas de animales y altos niveles de colesterol cpmenzamops a comer aun mas carbohidratos para sustituir las grasas con algo. El ultimo punto es probablemente el que produce mas controversia.
El medico del libro presenta su propias observaciones y varios estudios recientes de Europa y Norteamerica donde se mostraba que personas que comen una dieta baja de carbohidratos y alta en grasas bajan de peso y mejoran todos sus valores de salud (colesterol, insulina etc). Muchos muchos ya no necesita medicamentos despues de cambiar su estilo de vida. Lo mas interesante de todo era como en Suecia la obesidad habia bajado por primera vez en los ultimos 30 años despues que el consumo de mantequilla comenzó a subir (despues de 30 años de baja consumo).
Cual es la explicacion que el libro nos da? Cuando comemos carbohidratos la insulina sube rapido pero baja rapidamente despues - sentimos hambre, comemos mas carbohidratos, se produce mas insulina etc. Básicamente la insulina hace que comemos mas de lo que necesitamos - hace que sentimos mas hambre de lo que realmente tenemos. El efecto? Nos gordamos. Que hace las grasas? Las grasas son según el autor un ingrendiente natural en el humano, como también el colesterol. Con mas grasas en nuestra dieta nos sentimos satisfecho por mas tiempo y ergo, comemos menos.
El autor es entonces muy critico a la comida que se come en la mayor parte del mundo occidental hoy. Los productos light no reciben buenas notas, ni la comida procesada. Hay que comer "comida de verdad" hecha de productos basicas, naturales, con los menos posible ingredientes industriales.
La información del libro no era nada de nuevo para mi, pero estaba presentada en tal manera que comencé a realmente dudar la dieta recomendada por las autoridades hoy en día. Pese al viaje planificada decidí de una cambiar mi propio estilo de vida justo en ese momento. Entonces reinicié el intento de sacar la mayoria de carbohidratos (azucar, papas, pan, arroz, pasta - especialmente pasta) de mi dieta y sustituir la necesidad alimenticia con más grasas y verduras (que crecen arriba del suelo). Tengo que decir, de haber iniciado dietas similares previamente no era para nada dificil, y lo mejor de todo es que despues de solo un par de días ya no sentía esa urgencia de comer ni chocolate ni helado. Y reduje las veces que comia de 5-6 a 3 veces por dia - sin tener hambre.
Llegando a Chile me impactó la realidad chilena. En Finlandia tenemos ya problemas de obesidad y de diabetes . Pero acá, que está pasando acá? Los patios de comida de los numerosos malls está siempre, pero siempre, llenos con familias comiendo comida chatarra. Y aqui no hablamos de familias con niños adolecentes, sino familias con niños de edad de mis niños. Coca-cola parece haber sustituido la leche como bebida que acompaña la comida. Y en los hípermercados es dificil encontrar lo que el autor del libro sueco llama "comida de verdad". Piensenlo, cuanto de los productos alimenticios que se vende en Jumbo o Lider son llenos de o azucares o féculas? Cuento que el pasillo de lácteos tenía quizas 10% de productos limpios - el resto procesado, light o sabores dulces agregados. El pasillo de los yogurtes; encontré solamente un yogurt natural, UNO unico, el resto light, cero grasas, sabores dulces. Verduras, carnes, pescados reciben mejor nota que en Finlandia - limpios, producidos cerca, frescos y sobre todo sin salsas prehechas por la industria. Despues diria que casi todo el resto eran carbohidratos de algun tipo: cereales, chips, galletas (cada uno con su pasillo propio), y obviamente un sector entero de la bebida y los jugos.
Es realmente verdad que se está exportando los malos habitos del Norte al Sur. Lo mas preocupante es que el Sur no parece tener minimo criteria de defenderse de la ola de comida dañino que se les está serviendo. Que pasó con el pescado, los mariscos, la carne asada servido con una ensalada chilena o ensalada verde? Me pongo muy preocupada - aun mas cuando veo niños de 3-4 años que ya están muy gorditos. Como puede ser? Estamos a frente de una o quizas dos generaciones perdidas? Porque aunque la dieta baja de carbohidratas y alta de grasas puede ser controversial aun hoy en dia, no puede haber nadie con minimo conocimiento de nutricion que sostiene que bebidas dulces (sean light o normal) y papas fritas son saludables.
Marvellous Metro
We took the Metro today, me and the kids. Very convenient - from one side of the city to the other. The metro network is now 30% bigger than when we moved to Finland. I just love it! They have even installed elevators at the new metro stations now. Brilliant. On the old stations I still have act as a helpless mother and there will be at least 10 men lined up to assist in the stairs. I have never been left on the train station in Helsinki, where we have trains that are no apt for strollers. Hence, in Chile where a pregnant woman or an old lady never EVER has to stand it the bus or metro, I am sure that help will arrive at the top or bottom of the stairs.
I also liked the fact that the trains skip every second train station in rush hour. Our return took only half as long! Marvellous. Hubby´s old collegues have been doing a great job!
And this was also the premiere for my two halfbloods in a Chilean crowd. The brown eyed charmed the audience in the metro to the extent that I was afraid they would rob the strollers and everything in it.The blue eyed was offered good money for her eyes... And if I was flattered by one tiny Piropo the other day, I do not know what to say about the shower of Piropos today. To sum up: excellent excursion to Barrio Yungay/Brasil. We will do it again!
I also liked the fact that the trains skip every second train station in rush hour. Our return took only half as long! Marvellous. Hubby´s old collegues have been doing a great job!
And this was also the premiere for my two halfbloods in a Chilean crowd. The brown eyed charmed the audience in the metro to the extent that I was afraid they would rob the strollers and everything in it.The blue eyed was offered good money for her eyes... And if I was flattered by one tiny Piropo the other day, I do not know what to say about the shower of Piropos today. To sum up: excellent excursion to Barrio Yungay/Brasil. We will do it again!
Monday, February 7, 2011
Bomullsparker och Rousseau
Lekparken bakom hörnet är inte som parken där hemma. Det finns inga stängsel och pá báda sidorna om parken gár en relativt hárt trafikerad väg. Klätterställningen med rutschbana har sett sina dagar och skyddsräcket uppe pa rutschbanan har sà stora hál att t.o.m. en vuxen skulle kunna falla genom dem. Nej mitt uppdrag i parken blir att vakta och akta.
Men barnen i Chile leker precis lika glada i sina parker som barnen pà vàr gàrd där hemma i sina. Barnen här kanske inte har en cykelhjälm när de glada cyklar runt sin lilla park. Tänker pá Rousseau - han skulle säkert ha föredragit den chilenska lekparken framom den über-beskyddande finska lekparken. I höstas lärde jag mig att Rousseau tyckte att barn skulle fà falla och slà sig utan att bli tröstade. Det ger ett sunt förhàllande till livets utmaningar längre fram. Lever vi i en bomullsbeklädd värld där hemma?
Jag ser pá hur dammet yr när pojken faller ner pá marken frán första trappsteget till rutschbanan. Jag làter honom bli dammig och kravla sig upp pá egen hand. Skál för det sunda livet!
Klätterställning i Rousseaus smak (och mina barns).
Men barnen i Chile leker precis lika glada i sina parker som barnen pà vàr gàrd där hemma i sina. Barnen här kanske inte har en cykelhjälm när de glada cyklar runt sin lilla park. Tänker pá Rousseau - han skulle säkert ha föredragit den chilenska lekparken framom den über-beskyddande finska lekparken. I höstas lärde jag mig att Rousseau tyckte att barn skulle fà falla och slà sig utan att bli tröstade. Det ger ett sunt förhàllande till livets utmaningar längre fram. Lever vi i en bomullsbeklädd värld där hemma?
Jag ser pá hur dammet yr när pojken faller ner pá marken frán första trappsteget till rutschbanan. Jag làter honom bli dammig och kravla sig upp pá egen hand. Skál för det sunda livet!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
A trip down memory lane
Today I have revisited some of my old neighbourhoods. Hubby went to fix his eye sight and I took the a stroll in the center of Providencia. What a nostalgy kick!
Castaño, Tavelli, Guardia Vieja, the little Plaza of Avenida Providencia where the Cepal gang used to go for a Happy Hour, the Icecream café Sebastian, the Pizzaplace. I am just breathing in the memories that appears before me. And at the hight of my nostalgy experience: a Piropo! I hear some working men whispering nice words as I walk by. Aaah, I hide my wedding ring inside my hand and feel flattered. Married, two children and this Señora still receives attention. That is very nice. Thank you!
Then, further east... Suecia. A chapter of its own. I am surprised that some of the bars still seems to be attending the public. The area does not look to inviting. But hey, did it ever? You can do wonders with latin dance music and a couple of free drinks. It was fun while it lasted.
Just another block away, our FIRST home together. I note that the Salsa Club Ile Habana still seems to be doing business. It means that the trumpet solo still can be enjoyed at 2 a.m. in our former bedroom. Wonder who the audience is nowadays? And the palm tree! The tree that once was set on fire at 5 a.m. It´s still there! Below our bedroom, there is a new little "Pizza cono bar". It looks like it attends public mostly night time - kind of Empanadium business. I start feeling very sorry for the new inhabitants of our lovely apartment. Not to mention the view they are enjoying: the new MEGA project of Cencosud - South America´s largest shopping/business center. The old houses in front of this monstrous building site seem like doll houses. At the top of my former home street I can see the spinal cord of Chile: progress and tradition, new and old, big and small. It is all about contrasts. Contrasts that push the country forward. Although I cannot see the beauty in the Cencosud project, I have to admit that I have missed these contrasts! Viva Chile!!!
Castaño, Tavelli, Guardia Vieja, the little Plaza of Avenida Providencia where the Cepal gang used to go for a Happy Hour, the Icecream café Sebastian, the Pizzaplace. I am just breathing in the memories that appears before me. And at the hight of my nostalgy experience: a Piropo! I hear some working men whispering nice words as I walk by. Aaah, I hide my wedding ring inside my hand and feel flattered. Married, two children and this Señora still receives attention. That is very nice. Thank you!
Then, further east... Suecia. A chapter of its own. I am surprised that some of the bars still seems to be attending the public. The area does not look to inviting. But hey, did it ever? You can do wonders with latin dance music and a couple of free drinks. It was fun while it lasted.
Just another block away, our FIRST home together. I note that the Salsa Club Ile Habana still seems to be doing business. It means that the trumpet solo still can be enjoyed at 2 a.m. in our former bedroom. Wonder who the audience is nowadays? And the palm tree! The tree that once was set on fire at 5 a.m. It´s still there! Below our bedroom, there is a new little "Pizza cono bar". It looks like it attends public mostly night time - kind of Empanadium business. I start feeling very sorry for the new inhabitants of our lovely apartment. Not to mention the view they are enjoying: the new MEGA project of Cencosud - South America´s largest shopping/business center. The old houses in front of this monstrous building site seem like doll houses. At the top of my former home street I can see the spinal cord of Chile: progress and tradition, new and old, big and small. It is all about contrasts. Contrasts that push the country forward. Although I cannot see the beauty in the Cencosud project, I have to admit that I have missed these contrasts! Viva Chile!!!
Chapter 3: CDG-SCL - The Stress Test
We make it to the plane. Now our next mission: get hubby´s business seat switch to tourist class. The gentleman in seat 40G had no clue that this was going to be his lucky day. And as his Russian nature did not precisely decrease his suspiciousness, he was very hesitant to follow hubby to seat number 24E, to see the business seat offered to him. Hubby later said that Vitali´s serious Russian face was shining like a sun when he understood that he was actually going to spend the next 13,5 hours in quite decent circumstances.
Back to row 40. Both children dead tired. Some water to A and a pillow under her head and she sleeps - before take off. That was easy! Then G...hmm... water and a pillow will just not do the trick. He fights fiercely against any attempt to calm him down. When he finally falls a sleep in his sleeping bag, we place him on the floor and truly enjoy the best that AirFrances can offer: the food, the cheese and the wine. I hook up to the movie "Social Network" and halfway through the wine (damn!) I am knocked out. Nice! Sleep! Finally!
Until somewhere just above Canary Islands it all looks too promising. G sleeping tight on the floor, A very quiet in her seat and both hubby and I exhausted but asleep. RRRR - wake up. Flight attendant informs us that it is not allowed to sleep on the floor. From that moment on the plane ride turns in to endless waiting. It just never ends, and I do not manage to go back to sleep. G in hubby´s or my lap and A kicking ceaselessly. I just wish we would be above Brazil already. But the Atlantic is big and my seat starts feeling like what I imagine a torture chair feels like. Headache strikes - Flight attendant does luckily have a pill for that. Still, I should be happy - both kids sleep, and they sleep almost 7 hours without waking up. Once all awake (5 hours before arrival, which means 4 a.m. Chilean time, decent 9 a.m. Finnish time) nothing is better. A goes car sick from the turbulance and G is in no mood of staying put in one place. It is at this point that I look at both hubby and children and think: "This was all my fault - whatever was the reason for me to go on adventures to South America - now three other persons have to suffer this plane ride just because of that....".
But we make it. Strangely enough. Morning arrives, as well as breakfast. We see the Andean mountains and feel how the plane start decending. Light at the end of the tunnel! Once landed, the Chilean passangers are kind enough to teach our kids that you applaud when landing. Hubby embarrassed, but I actually feel that this plane ride was worth some applause - from both my kids. Relieved and happy - we leave the disaster ground. I remind myself that mess is good; at least the airplane cleaners will see some real results of cleaning this plane today!
The biggest miracle of all awaits us when we have passed the International Police. Our luggage has arrived! Charles de Gaulle airport do offer some positive surprises sometimes. Not too often but often enough to know to enjoy them when the appear. So no emergency shopping needed this morning.
Media frenzy at the exit. We find out that the first Chilean man to make it from revolutionary Egypt to his homeland has travelled on the same plane as we. I see the man with a Chilean flag around him. I get a flashback of the frenzy around the 33 miners some months ago. Chilean journalism...alive and well! Welcome home!
Back to row 40. Both children dead tired. Some water to A and a pillow under her head and she sleeps - before take off. That was easy! Then G...hmm... water and a pillow will just not do the trick. He fights fiercely against any attempt to calm him down. When he finally falls a sleep in his sleeping bag, we place him on the floor and truly enjoy the best that AirFrances can offer: the food, the cheese and the wine. I hook up to the movie "Social Network" and halfway through the wine (damn!) I am knocked out. Nice! Sleep! Finally!
Until somewhere just above Canary Islands it all looks too promising. G sleeping tight on the floor, A very quiet in her seat and both hubby and I exhausted but asleep. RRRR - wake up. Flight attendant informs us that it is not allowed to sleep on the floor. From that moment on the plane ride turns in to endless waiting. It just never ends, and I do not manage to go back to sleep. G in hubby´s or my lap and A kicking ceaselessly. I just wish we would be above Brazil already. But the Atlantic is big and my seat starts feeling like what I imagine a torture chair feels like. Headache strikes - Flight attendant does luckily have a pill for that. Still, I should be happy - both kids sleep, and they sleep almost 7 hours without waking up. Once all awake (5 hours before arrival, which means 4 a.m. Chilean time, decent 9 a.m. Finnish time) nothing is better. A goes car sick from the turbulance and G is in no mood of staying put in one place. It is at this point that I look at both hubby and children and think: "This was all my fault - whatever was the reason for me to go on adventures to South America - now three other persons have to suffer this plane ride just because of that....".
But we make it. Strangely enough. Morning arrives, as well as breakfast. We see the Andean mountains and feel how the plane start decending. Light at the end of the tunnel! Once landed, the Chilean passangers are kind enough to teach our kids that you applaud when landing. Hubby embarrassed, but I actually feel that this plane ride was worth some applause - from both my kids. Relieved and happy - we leave the disaster ground. I remind myself that mess is good; at least the airplane cleaners will see some real results of cleaning this plane today!
The biggest miracle of all awaits us when we have passed the International Police. Our luggage has arrived! Charles de Gaulle airport do offer some positive surprises sometimes. Not too often but often enough to know to enjoy them when the appear. So no emergency shopping needed this morning.
Media frenzy at the exit. We find out that the first Chilean man to make it from revolutionary Egypt to his homeland has travelled on the same plane as we. I see the man with a Chilean flag around him. I get a flashback of the frenzy around the 33 miners some months ago. Chilean journalism...alive and well! Welcome home!
Chapter 2. HEL-CDG
We kill time at Helsinki Airport. Kids playing, running, crawling around on the floor. At this point, I remember my mom having said to me how she had observed some small children at Buenos Aires airport, crawling around on the dirty floor. She had visioned how "those could be my grandchildren in a few years". At that point I did not have a boyfriend, but obviously my mother had grandchild fever. Now 10 years later I have to recognize that she was right. Her grandchildren do crawl on airport floors to get to see a grandmother on the other side of the globe - only that the granny is not she.
Plane is late, aprox. 45 minutes. I look at hubby and read he thoughts: "I TOLD YOU SO, 2 HOURS TRANSFER IN PARIS IS TOO SHORT". Well hey, I have done the transfer in less than 55 minutes before (may it have been without kids, without Schengen passport control and with the terminals next to each other).
The flight to Paris is no vacation. It is obvious that G lack the grace of flying with which his older sister has been heavenly blessed. A small (normally only domestic) plane filled with tired business people just do not cheer up the spirit either. But we make it to Paris without further delay. A falls asleep five minutes before hitting the ground, G annoyed because his is not sleeping.
After a slow bus transport to the terminal we start our marathon from terminal F to terminal E. With G in the baby carrier on hubbys tummy and A in the hotsling on my shoulder and three pieces of hand luggages (>10 kilos each) we run. Luckily the airport is almost empty. But still, the distance between terminal F and E feels like an eternity. Finally passport check, no lines, thank you! We sprint to the shuttle train. Until here, A has been screaming incessantly "Let me down, I dont want to be in Paris, I want to sleep!". My response to her sudden tantrums has been nothing to be proud of either. Main point; we make it and now only another security check and we´ll be at the gate. Boarding has only just started. We will make it with or without luggage. What a relief ! Chile here we come!
Plane is late, aprox. 45 minutes. I look at hubby and read he thoughts: "I TOLD YOU SO, 2 HOURS TRANSFER IN PARIS IS TOO SHORT". Well hey, I have done the transfer in less than 55 minutes before (may it have been without kids, without Schengen passport control and with the terminals next to each other).
The flight to Paris is no vacation. It is obvious that G lack the grace of flying with which his older sister has been heavenly blessed. A small (normally only domestic) plane filled with tired business people just do not cheer up the spirit either. But we make it to Paris without further delay. A falls asleep five minutes before hitting the ground, G annoyed because his is not sleeping.
After a slow bus transport to the terminal we start our marathon from terminal F to terminal E. With G in the baby carrier on hubbys tummy and A in the hotsling on my shoulder and three pieces of hand luggages (>10 kilos each) we run. Luckily the airport is almost empty. But still, the distance between terminal F and E feels like an eternity. Finally passport check, no lines, thank you! We sprint to the shuttle train. Until here, A has been screaming incessantly "Let me down, I dont want to be in Paris, I want to sleep!". My response to her sudden tantrums has been nothing to be proud of either. Main point; we make it and now only another security check and we´ll be at the gate. Boarding has only just started. We will make it with or without luggage. What a relief ! Chile here we come!
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Patiperrando - Chapter 1.
Finally, escaping the Finnish winter! I have been dreaming of this moment for over a year now. Ever since we were snowed-in in the winter 2009-2010, me, one cholic baby and one very explosive two year old child. One year ago I use to count zippers that I had to close in order to make it outside our house. I think I got to some 16 zippers of which at least a third had to be closed by listening to a choir of screaming. I was then dreaming of another kind of winter, a winter which actually is summer, a winter in the South.
We hoped that this winter would have more mercy on us than last year´s experience. But no, already in November I could see myself locked in again. In December the ploughs abandoned our neighbourhood to get the snow cleared in more important areas. Taking a stroll with the stroller became next to impossible. Something positive as well, I was happy to see that we were one year older at the time of getting dressed: less zippers and definatelly less screaming reherrsals. But still moving around in that snow record of the century was just too much. I managed top convince hubby to use his Finnish "fathers-month" - paternity right and so the family bough four tickets to the heat and sun in Santiago de Chile. Since then all of us have been enjoying the snow enormously: skiing, skating, digging caves, sledding - just thinking of the short winter at our disposal this year.
Airport of Helsinki. We got there early....to get the Airfrance mix up with our seats. Well, check-in lady could not solve our problem so at the moment of passing the security check I was faced with a challenge of taking care of two small children all alone in tourist class, while hubby would enjoy the pleasant service of the flight attendants in business class. Charming! But then again, its only some 13 hours of my life. Nothing, really.
We hoped that this winter would have more mercy on us than last year´s experience. But no, already in November I could see myself locked in again. In December the ploughs abandoned our neighbourhood to get the snow cleared in more important areas. Taking a stroll with the stroller became next to impossible. Something positive as well, I was happy to see that we were one year older at the time of getting dressed: less zippers and definatelly less screaming reherrsals. But still moving around in that snow record of the century was just too much. I managed top convince hubby to use his Finnish "fathers-month" - paternity right and so the family bough four tickets to the heat and sun in Santiago de Chile. Since then all of us have been enjoying the snow enormously: skiing, skating, digging caves, sledding - just thinking of the short winter at our disposal this year.
Airport of Helsinki. We got there early....to get the Airfrance mix up with our seats. Well, check-in lady could not solve our problem so at the moment of passing the security check I was faced with a challenge of taking care of two small children all alone in tourist class, while hubby would enjoy the pleasant service of the flight attendants in business class. Charming! But then again, its only some 13 hours of my life. Nothing, really.
La patiperra del Norte
I have entered the world of blogging. Facebook statuses just were not enough to keep my uncontrollable thoughts under control. Let´s see how this goes.
Let´s start with the name of my blog: La patiperra del Norte. Patiperra is a very very Chilean word and I take the help of my friend Wikipedia to find the real meaning of the word.
"Viajero empedernido, muy callejero, que gusta de caminar y viajar continuamente."
Freely translated to English it would be something like: " A hardcore traveller, very vagabond, who likes to continously be on the move".
There was a time in my life when I never stayed in one place for longer than max one year, always projecting my life and location only for the next 12 months. Friends and family used to ask me from where I got my gypsy blood. Well, nowadays the spirit of being a true "patiperra" has converted into something that most of the time happens inside my head. Only a short trip outside my lovely suburb of Helsinki can bring enormous satisfaction and sense of freedom. My day-to-day life is located within the borders of Haga, including our home, daughters daycare, local supermarket, local library, postoffice and some small and big playgrounds in the hood. I am, as by definition, a staying-at-home-mum and what surprises me the most is that I like it!
Anyway, back on track....Yesterday, I recaptured the old sense of beeing on the move, traveling from one side of the world to the other. And this is where the story of this blog will begin. I will be writing in Swedish, English and Spanish - all depending on what feels best at the moment, and of course - who is the audience.
So let the blogging begin!
Let´s start with the name of my blog: La patiperra del Norte. Patiperra is a very very Chilean word and I take the help of my friend Wikipedia to find the real meaning of the word.
Freely translated to English it would be something like: " A hardcore traveller, very vagabond, who likes to continously be on the move".
There was a time in my life when I never stayed in one place for longer than max one year, always projecting my life and location only for the next 12 months. Friends and family used to ask me from where I got my gypsy blood. Well, nowadays the spirit of being a true "patiperra" has converted into something that most of the time happens inside my head. Only a short trip outside my lovely suburb of Helsinki can bring enormous satisfaction and sense of freedom. My day-to-day life is located within the borders of Haga, including our home, daughters daycare, local supermarket, local library, postoffice and some small and big playgrounds in the hood. I am, as by definition, a staying-at-home-mum and what surprises me the most is that I like it!
Anyway, back on track....Yesterday, I recaptured the old sense of beeing on the move, traveling from one side of the world to the other. And this is where the story of this blog will begin. I will be writing in Swedish, English and Spanish - all depending on what feels best at the moment, and of course - who is the audience.
So let the blogging begin!
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