A Return Home

I wanted to comment on another part of my time in Finland. My original desire to go was brought about by the fact that I am half-Finnish. Knowing that some of my mother's family were still in contact with our Finnish relatives, I reached out to my aunt and received information regarding two different families. I contacted them and received warm replies. We all share the same great-great grandparent, if I'm not mistaken. This makes many of them second cousins (and some once-removed).

Many within my generation or my older brother's, I thoroughly enjoyed my time. It was very exciting as the resemblance of one of my cousins to my mother was present. Indeed, it's definitely my family.

One side resides in Helsinki, and after arriving at my hostel, I soon made contact with them. Within a day I was having dinner at their hope in a suburb of Helsinki, Espoo. Eating traditional Finnish dinner, a smoked set of salmon fillets (much like an American family having steak or chicken) our discussion was one of a family history I must confess I was not terribly familiar with. Their comments and knowledge of Minnesota was very impressive as they had visited during the summer of 2001, shortly before the events that were 9/11.

The other side of the tree was a family in Tampere, a city roughly two hours outside of Helsinki to the Northwest. Taking a pleasant train ride which by European standards was somewhat slow as we hauled through the Finnish landscape at 160kmh (96mph). A university town, Tampere was also much like the second-city syndrome I have spoken of before as it was very much a cultural hub of Finland.

Again, striking resemblances and my driving interest to understand my maternal family's history yielded many new pieces of information. Much of my family stayed in Finland. My family was started from one individual who came over to Minnesota (my great-grandfather, father of my grandmother, mother of my mother). I was struck by the intellectuals that were my cousins.

More to the point, it was very interesting to find so many writers in my family, in-laws included. It would seem that writing is in my family, as well as school and higher degrees of education. This is also supposedly the case on my mother's father's side, although I did not encounter this family unfortunately.

More the reason to return to Finland again, though. But next time, it will have to be in the summer.

Tampere:

Göteborg, Svenska

As I was flying over on a no-frills European carrier, Wizz Air, I sat next to a Polish man who live South of Gothenburg. His name was Piotr (my name in Polish). And he worked for General Motors powertrain design systems (mostly servicing the Saab division). We spoke at length, his English being not fluent, but with time and clarity, certainly conversational.

Since the Gothenburg City Airport is anything but (it's at least 30 minutes outside), he gave me a ride to my hotel. That was my first encounter with Swedish hospitality. In fact, the Swedes are very nice. As I noted in the previous entry, I am visiting an old college friend, who, upon my arrival, had me over to his childhood home where his father was preparing a large dinner to entertain a number of guests.

The second largest city in Sweden (of course, behind Stockholm), it is the again like many of the second largest cities in European countries as it is arguably the cultural hub. Perhaps a working theory might be that larger metropolitan cities always contain the government of the country and become more administrative than cultural. But this is merely a theory and unproven.

Walking around, I was first delighted to see the namesake of my college, Gustaf II Adolf (Latinized, Gustavus Adolphus), who is heralded as one of the cultural proponents of the country during his reign in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth century. Known as the "Lion of the North," his presence in the Thirty Years Wars is purported to have shifted the balance and won the war for the Protestants. He was killed in action, however, at the Battle of Lützen in 1632. But his copper image survives today in many parts of Sweden, but I am particularly attracted to this one:


And Sweden charges on. Many of the cityscapes in Gotheburg are reminiscent of a New York avenue. It's really quite pretty:

Warsaw Fog

From the International Herald Tribune (not being used for gainful purposes):

28 November 2006 (AP) WARSAW, Poland: Heavy fog caused flight cancellations and delays at airports throughout Poland on Tuesday. Low visibility forced officials to cancel most domestic and international flights.

Only three planes had been able to land at Warsaw's Okecie airport by late afternoon, spokesman Artur Burak said. Eight flights, mainly to international destinations, had been able to take off, he said.
"According to the most recent weather reports, these conditions could last until Wednesday afternoon," he said. Other airports in the country also faced delayed departures and landings, including those in Krakow, Poznan and Katowice.

End of Story

Not really. I have been in Gothenburg, Sweden since Sunday, visiting an old college friend who happens to be Swedish. His company and hospitality have been wonderful. But mother nature's has not been, as I was just about to board the plane when the ticketing agent got over the loud speaker and said something about Warsaw in Polish. My Polish is not very good, but after the reaction from the people, it was not hard to understand: flight cancellation.

So I'm in Gothenburg until Friday (the next flight to Warsaw from here!). But the hotel does have free coffee and donuts. Looks like I'm going to adopt the Barney Fife style of living for the next few days.

But seriously, it's not that bad, I have a view of the ocean from my room. And what's more, I can now pronounce my name in Swedish!

More to come.

Suomi (Finland)

I have been to Helsinki, stayed in Matinkyla in Espoo, and tomorrow I will take a train to Tampere. Finland is nothing if not for its standard of living, hospitality, and of course, saunas that burn away all your worry.

Arriving on Monday afternoon on a direct flight from Warsaw, I was immediately struck by two things: I blended physically and secondly, people would start speaking Finnish to me when I approached them with a question.

True, I'm 50% Finnish, but unfortunately, it doesn't mean I know the language. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's next to impossible for a non-native speaker to actually learn the language if they had no exposure over the age of 12.

Part of the Finno-Ugric language family, which includes Hungarian (however, incredibly distant from Finnish), but little or no answers to the language's finalized usage are available. It has little, if any, Slavic influence from the East and very little influence from the West, Sweden. The closest relative of the language is Estonian, which indeed makes sense geographically. But Estonian sits out there like Finnish, having little traceable lineage of development.

For a large part, the Finns have historically spent much of their time as a nation staving off occupation. And if it wasn't Sweden, it was Russia. Disputed leadership of Finland signed a treaty with the Nazis around the start of World War II believing this would greatly aid in their efforts to hold back the Russians who kept massing at the border. During the conflict, 60,000 Finns died, while the Russians withstood over a Million deaths. Finnish literature produced a tongue-in-cheek joke related to this: one Finn is worth 50 Russians, but what of the 51st Russian?

Not to mention, after the US (allegedly) sent over armaments and munitions to help to Russians fight the Nazis, they turned around and used them against the Finns.

Today Finland is the home of many things global. But the highest in profile award goes to their phones, Nokia. Yes, that's not a Japanese brand for all you would-be language scholars. I'm not sure where their corporate headquarters are, because I keep seeing large buildings and corporate campuses with their name all over them. Needless to say, they are the number one phone maker in the world.

It is held by some, but unconfirmed, that in a country of just over a five Million people, only 600,000 to 800,000 still have land lines. That's right, only five Million people in Finland, that's how many people speak Finnish, and that's how many people have cellular phones in the country. And believe me, pay phones don't exist. Your cellular is everything here. I suppose this isn't too far off from the way it in the US, or soon will be.

And a Happy Turkey Day to Everyone

In consideration of the holiday that is not being celebrated here, I wanted to give my thanks to you, the readers of this travel log, the people who supported me in doing this and continue to support me in exploring Europe.

Have a wonderful holiday.

And Onward

My next trip will be from Monday through Saturday of next week. I will be in Finland. And given that I'm half Finnish, I suppose it's a little like going home for a while. At least I won't stick out like a blond sore thumb like I did in Ecuador.

After I get back on Saturday, it will be a shower, laundry, and sleep before I go to Gothenburg, Sweden to visit an old college friend of mine. That will take me through Tuesday and when I get home, November will almost be finished.

And as always, I'll have my Polish cellular on me for emergencies.

36 Hours in Athens

I arrived in Athens late on Friday afternoon. The air was filled with faint levels of cigarette smoke as so many of the airports in Europe are. This was to be my first dealing with the Euro, as my short time in France while journeying across the border from Geneva did not necessitate actually taking out cash. It was also my first time in Greece and for this, I was excited because up to this point, I've just eaten their foods elsewhere.

As the small group I was traveling with boarded the bus, I could tell the airport was far outside the city. In rush hour traffic, it took us an hour to arrive at our hotel. The bus ride was well worth it however, as seeing the activity in Athens on a Friday night was a treat.

Quickly checking into the hotel, our fist and foremost concern was securing food. Greek food. And we did. As I have told folks back home already, the Greek food tastes better in Greece. This is likely true anywhere. But when you love their food as much as I do, it's worth noting.

My full day in Greece was Saturday and with a manageable list of attractions to see, there is little question as to what was on the top of the list: the Acropolis.

Hoards of tourists, many American, were scaling the tiny mountain at the center of Athens trying to reach, feel, see, and understand the structures that in many ways, comprise the first or second chapters of any world history book.

And, after recalling a paper I had written in college for my first-term Art History class, I was struck by the beauty of the temple Athena Nike (and yes, this is likely where we get the sporting goods brand from).

It was also a pleasure to have the obligatory tourist photo taken of me in front of the Parthenon.

Wandering the Plaka and Syntagma neighborhoods of central Athens was interesting in its own right as well. According to the Athenians sitting next to me while I flew in, Athens as a metropolitan area is composed of almost 7 Million people, yet only half of them are Greek ethnically. Albanians, Romanians, Turks, Macedonians, etc. all want a piece of the action in their neighboring first-string European Union country.

And their attitudes were akin to that of Americans when considering Mexicans in the US. But I don't intend to start punching political buttons, suffice it to say, Americans are not the only ones struggling with immigration issues.

I will return someday to Athens. Its charm overwhelming, its food incomparable. But now I must keep moving onward.

The Last Days of Ecuador: Guayaquil

After we departed Cuenca, it was off on the long haul to Guayaquil, the largest city in Ecuador. Its history is actually a story of redemption and not one of the standard Latin American variety. Largely a shipping port, the city is crossed by two rivers that allow access to the ocean. Almost twenty years ago, it was a mad house. A place where it was not only expected, but perhaps guaranteed that as a tourist, you would get a knife poking your back and your wallet was being emptied.

The city began a turnaround project roughly 16 years ago and the structure of the project is now being copied all over Latin American cities because it was so successful. The secret to the success? Make the city expensive to live in. Make it look like Miami. Make petty crime hurt the criminals by enlisting a police force that has augmented powers of perpetrator handling. In essence, be like New York. Here is a picture taken on the river coast, shooting directly toward the city's central square where if you look close enough, you can see your friend and mine, in the bronze, Simon Bolivar.


And like Guliani's New York, Guayaquil became the epicenter of commercial activity in Ecuador. The youngest people live in Guayaquil because it's coastal and has a nightlife that, frankly, rocked my face off. It was a pity that we were incredibly tired by the time we reached the coast after out venture, we could have gathered more. Unfortunately, it would seem, our hotel beds were more alluring than the city lights on a couple of occasions.

I miss Ecuador. I miss the wonderful people and the freshness of the place. It will always be there, I hope. But for now, I move Eastward, after this delightful detour back to my side of the world.

And What's Next?

Tomorrow I fly to Athens for a weekend on the Mediterranean. And don't worry, I'll be sure to get the obligatory tourist photograph of me in front of the Acropolis.

I can't wait to be eating real Gyros. My parents aren't telling me something, I must be Greek. Have to be Greek.

72 Hours in Budapest

Hunting down a personal network connection I had from St. Louis Park, I arrived in Budapest last weekend to find this individual and interview him. Having lived in the city for the last 18 months, he was also eager to show someone from back home around his favorite city.

And indeed, what an amazing city. I had heard from some that Hungary was still cheap, as is the rest of Eastern Europe, especially since the Hungarian currency, the Forint, is trading with the dollar at a ratio of 200:1. Nope, Budapest is expensive, it's the rest of the country that's cheap. The cost of a beer was holding steady, however, at about 500 Forint ($2.50).

The city was alive. It had a discernible rhythm to it. The Hungarians have been protesting for the last two months now, in reaction to their Prime Minister basically caught on tape gloating about his campaign promises being unattainable, if not just untrue. The Hungarians, suffering tear-gas, rubber-bullets, etc. continue to protest in the city, demanding the resignation of their Prime Minister.

And like a typical Eastern European politician stuck in the Soviet-era way of thinking, he refuses.

This comes at a appropriate time as Hungary, mainly Budapest, is celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Hungarian uprising against the Soviets, which lead to the deaths of 25,000 Hungarians, but secured a lighter version of communism for their future, similar to Poland in that respect.

I took this picture in front of Parliament on the Danube river. I thought it quite telling:

The city was beautiful, though. Overrun with British folks though. Likely a testament to the city's Eastern-European-style-but-without-the-Eastern-European-feel sentiment. This is one city I will definitely rank high on my list of favorite places I went to. My only complaint: it rained everyday I was there. But hey, that's life.

24 Hours in Krakow

A couple of weeks ago I ventured down to Krakow to see what all the tourists were talking about. In the South of Poland, Krakow was once the capital before it was moved North to Warsaw in the Middle Ages. It was a quaint, highly-manageable town of less than a million people. And its infrastructure strikingly similar to Warsaw's. Krakow's attractions include the Wawel Castle and the main market square in the city's hill.

My hostel was overrun with tourists and my being an English speaker was welcomed by all. In my room were two Aussies, a Canadian, and a Brit. And I didn't fall asleep until three as we stayed up talking about the world and our differences in culture, though we all were speaking, perhaps with the exception of the Aussies, standard English.

Though I did not make it to Auschwitz, which is less than an hour away by train (requiring me to return during my tenure in Poland at some point), Krakow was charming. Again, like Quito and Cuenca in Ecuador as you might have read, one is the administrative hulk filled with politicians and commerce while the latter is filled with culture and quieter pace of life. That is the best way to characterize the relationship between Warsaw and Krakow.

Wawel Castle (pronouced in Polish with the 'w' being a 'v' in English, hence Vavel), as I said, was not the main attraction, rather the city square in the "Old Town" of Krakow. But I thought it the most aesthetically pleasing perhaps:

Arriving in the afternoon on a train from Warsaw where I found a group of American students who had jumped on without seats using their Eurail passes (which don't work in Poland, but they were able to talk their way out of it with the train staff). They were studying for their tests and biding their time before midterms. I just couldn't help thinking to myself I get to travel around Europe and not worry about homework. What a blessing.

Information, Yeah, More...

I will be traveling to Budapest this Friday, 3 November and staying until Monday, 6 November when I arrive very early back in Warsaw.

Should be the source of some good entries. Stay tuned.

Stalin's Leftovers

Given that I'm back in Warsaw for a little while, I thought I'd write a short piece on the eyesore that is Warsaw's Palace of Culture and Science.

My first encounter with the building was a rather utilitarian one. I used it as a geographical reference point in making my way around central Warsaw because it happens to be the tallest building in Warsaw and if not, just short of it.

You may recall this, I cropped it from another photograph located in an earlier entry regarding a walk around my neighborhood. As you can tell, it towers over everything in Warsaw, visible from just about any location in the city. What's more, I had no idea when I was commenting on the earlier photograph that this monstrous building had a sordid history.

The building was finished in 1955. It required 40 Million bricks.

Who commissioned it? That's right, your friend and mine, Josef Stalin. It is surmised that Stalin was jealous of the skyscrapers that New York so triumphantly built before and after World War II. As we all know most architecture is phallic and this is no exception, symbolizing power and prowess (that's why I believe financial services are often the occupants of these structures; money is power for many cultures).

Originally, Stalin wanted eight of these to be built in Moscow, corresponding to New York's major skyscrapers. When all was said and done, seven were in Moscow, and the largest of them all found itself in Warsaw. Stalin really wanted the rest of Europe to know he was just around the corner.

And then the Wall fell and the USSR, slowly afterward, was no longer flexing its occupation muscle in Eastern Europe. But the Poles had no idea what to do with the Palace. Ideas for addressing this Stalinist leftover were elicited from different architects internationally in a competition. The winner wanted to shroud the Palace in skyscrapers, crowning it or hiding it, whichever term you prefer.

The Warsaw community vociferously objected and now pre-World War II land titles are being disputed in the courts. Everything is stuck, leaving Stalin's physically manifested legacy standing.

Personally, I hope it stays a little longer, if not for its historical significance (I'm not a Pole, so I really have no authority to speak to this effect anyway), then certainly it's views of the city:

And to add insult to injury, the Poles have a favorite joke they tell tourists:

Tourist: Do you know where to find the best view of Warsaw?

Pole: Of course, the top of the Palace of Culture and Science.

Tourist: Oh, because it's the tallest building in Warsaw?

Pole: No, because from there you can't see it.

Cuenca: Was that Spanish or French?

And then there was Cuenca, located almost directly South of Quito in the Andean basin. I didn't find a town with as much charm in Ecuador. Architecturally, and to some degree even culturally, a little European pocket in Ecuador.

Cuenca was founded in 1557 by a Spanish explorer and after European coal mining interests in the region subsided, a French "footprint" on the people can be found (seriously, no pun, this is figurative) when looking at the residents. Some were as fair-skinned as I was, which struck me as a total anomaly.

The city has eight universities and a population of roughly 400,000, making it the "third city of Ecuador" behind Guayaquil and Quito. Indeed, the night life was amazing. Needless to say, I was "Gringo-Who-Can-Dance" for a night, as my Polish colleague proved otherwise on the dance floor. Thanks Shakira, these hips indeed don't lie.

Information...

Sorry for the recent silence on this page again. Busy, or at least, trying not to be, but it's a good problem to have.

For those who normally reached me via cellular, my US mobile account is suspended. I now have a Polish cellular to make life a little easier over here.

I will be going to Greece on November 10 returning the 12th for a short holiday with my host in Poland.

Thanks for all the emails, love to hear from back home, I'll try to answer them as fast as I can.

All the best.

I Ate Fluffy

This is purely for the sake of novelty (and maybe to gross people out). Actually, guinea pig is pretty good. Especially when it's right off the spit. I can no longer look my neighbor's guinea pig straight in the face (but can you ever look one straight in the face, given their physical features?). And yes, this isn't Europe, this is Ecuador, baby.

Work

To give readers an idea of what I was writing while at the United Nations, here's a piece I sent in for publication but did not eventually make the cut (I met Dr. Sengupta at a press conference and had a wonderful conversation with him):

17 October 2006—GENEVA—World Food Day, yesterday, was an occasion for me that brought to mind the current situation in the United States. Hunger remains a constant source of global malnutrition and stunted childhood development.

These are not the only problems, of course, but even in a country such as the United States, poverty persists, with the result that the US is counted along with countries with hungry citizens worldwide.

The recent report presented in Geneva by the United Nations independent expert, Dr. Arjun Sengupta, to the Human Rights Council on extreme poverty in the United States was startling.

During the two years of Sengupta’s mandate so far, many countries have received special visits, all places typically associated with extreme poverty. There was one exception that caught my eye.

For 12 days, Sengupta traveled throughout the United States, visiting New York, Washington state, New Orleans, and mining regions of Appalachia, in an attempt to show that extreme poverty exists in developed nations as well.

If poverty is defined by the United Nations as surviving on two dollars a day (not a very good global demarcation as prices vary greatly from country to country, but currently a universal standard), then extreme poverty is defined as surviving on only one dollar a day and, thus, comprises an even more needy group within the impoverished.

Sengupta reported that the US’ impoverished under the definition of extreme poverty are a racially indifferent group, composed of several ethnicities. Is essence, extreme poverty in the US is arguably colorblind. Indicative of this group is a lack of healthcare (if any at all), education, and employment.

In a press conference on September 28, 2006, Sengupta responded to questions about the US’ alleged violation of human rights in this regard. Noting that since the US is more than capable of helping these people rectify the aforementioned indications of extreme poverty, the US has in effect made a choice not to help, and is violating the human rights of the extreme poor—including their right to life.

Unfortunately for the United States government, the report makes specific reference to a glaring deficiency in the US position on human rights criticizing that it “… has not accepted economic, social, and cultural rights as legally valid rights.”

Another key to identifying the extreme poor, according to Sengupta, is social exclusion, which prevents the access to opportunity which, in theory, could alleviate extreme poverty. The US contention that such people aren’t trying hard enough would seem to be the stock response.

The US delegate Steven Hill responded to the report in the Human Rights Council saying the US was pleased that Sengupta referred to several agencies at a federal level addressing poverty. However, Hill wished more sources had been consulted, such as academic sources. Not a stunning defense, if the delegate felt one was needed.

Looking at the situation from a global perspective, one would not suspect a problem with the US’ poor. But from an outsider’s perspective, the US has a pronounced problem. Sengupta’s visit to the Appalachia region is telling, as mining has declined there and unemployment has progressively increased with the shutdown of each mine. The damage to the environment ostensibly created by the mines, along with the concomitant harm to overall health plus a lack of adequate housing, have created one of the poorest regions in the US.

Given the reportedly deteriorating conditions in New Orleans, it is time the US government took a hard look at impoverished regions both in out of the media’s scope of vision and not only acknowledge the problem, but enact change.

Quito: "Touch the Sky"

And how cheese is that slogan? That's what all the tourism materials I received from the Ecuadorian tourism boards said. And I had to laugh, because Quito really isn't touching the sky so much as touching the smog, which starts in the morning around ten and hangs in the air (the city is a lot like Burbank in that it's couched in mountains and air tends to "hang" in the basin) until the fog from the mountains rolls in twelve hours later and disposes of it.

If the Amazon was our vacation, then Quito, the capital city of Ecuador, was the administrative part that needed completion before leaving for Cuenca. Quito does retain much of its heritage and culture, despite the large number of museums and lack of night life (but we managed to get by). The famous Latin American artist who took inspiration from Che Guevara and Fidel Castro worked out of Quito. His name was Oswaldo Guayasamin and his work is, well, provocative.

I truly enjoyed many of the exhibitions, though, as much as I may gripe about being completely ADD when it comes to museums. Perhaps it's just overwhelming attempting to take it all in, and thus, I try to parse out each chunk into manageable ones, only to the detriment of my gaining the entire experience. Oh well.

Next on the list of Ecuador entries: Cuenca

No More Planes!

Back in Warsaw. I added up my flight times and decided I'm happy not to see a plane for a little while:

Minneapolis>Chicago: 1.5
Chicago>Copenhagen: 8.5
Copenhagen>Warsaw: 2.5
Warsaw>Zurich: 2.0
Zurich>Geneva: 0.5
Geneva>Madrid: 2.5
Madrid>Quito: 11.0
Banana Plantation>Guayaquil: 0.45
Guayaquil>Madrid: 10.5
Madrid>Geneva: 2.5
Geneva>Zurich: 0.5
Zurich>Warsaw: 2.5

Total flight time in six weeks: approximately 48 hours.

Back in the CH

Well, after a eleven hour flight with an extra two our flight to top off the travel back to the other side of the world, sleeping last night never had more meaning to me. I will be here until Wednesday, at which time I will return to Warsaw where hopefully, this blog will get the badly needed attention it deserves. Hope all is well back home.

And carrying three currencies around is mind-boggling. Thank god Ecuador dollarized in 2000.