New beginning - once again

I have written hardly anything during the past few years. The main reason is that nothing very exciting has happened in my settled everyday life. Besides, I have not felt inspired to get started on the topics I have in my mind. I will get to those ones later on. But I also feel like whatever I would write about my attitude towards life would be repetition to my previous posts. Let's take this one as an example...

This is my last night in the Netherlands. After living here for two years it is time to move on. Professionally, after some genuinely interesting times, I got quite bored sitting quietly in the office, far away from the action taking place in Africa and Asia. The projects I worked for became just excels and emails to me, rather than real people benefiting from them. I realized if I want to continue my career in the development sector I want to be placed near the projects; where problems and solutions reside, where I get exposed to different cultures, where unexpected things happen. I sense the sector is full of adventure but I was missing out on it. Another major reason for leaving this flatland is of course the lack of outdoor climbing. I got tired of indoor top roping (yes, Dutch gyms only have top rope and no lead) while it was pouring raining outside. Outdoors life and especially climbing is my lifestyle, which brings me so much happiness I cannot imagine living without it any longer.

The above reasons are definitely valid. However, if you read my previous posts you see me repeating words such as adventure, unknown future and new challenges. Apparently I get some sort of thrill out of leaving behind what I have built and starting over with something new. That is why I am not going to write again about the excitement of packing up and stepping on a plane to head towards things I yet have no idea about. This time my plan is to travel for around half a year. I do not know yet where I am heading to, but in addition to climbing (and I really wanna get good at it!) I want to explore opportunities to combine my professional ambitions with a traveling outdoors lifestyle. My ideas are still vague and versatile, and I do not know which attribute weighs more in importance, but I believe I will find a way to get what I want. Compared to the similar situation three years ago, I feel now more confident with my skills, more trusting at my persistence and intuition, and more accepted by people around me.

So let's cut the crap: I am damn psyched to go traveling!

And a few photos to summarize the silent year...

For winter break I went to Laos and climbed like shit but promised to improve my climbing attitude...

...while hanging out with this group of most amazing people!

In the Netherlands I explored many different cities and learned to appreciate art museums...

...and trained climbing indoors. 

At Easter I went to Turkey that was amazing in such many ways...

...so I returned there immediately and finally sent my first 7A (woohoo!)

In the summer I had many nice visitors with whom I visited more cities...

...and ate and drank well.

I made weekend trips to the UK to see the idyllic countryside...

...and sleep on beautiful spots that got me thinking about getting my own van and being completely free!

Everyday life in the Hague

I have lived in the Netherlands already for a year and half now, but have not yet written about my life here. I have started several texts but abandoned them due to their lack of proper content and angle. This time I am just going to write something and publish it anyhow.

The Hague is a peaceful city with half a million inhabitants on the North Sea coast. My favorite thing here is running by the beach. I like it during all seasons; in the summer crowded with surfers, kids and beer drinkers, and in the winter hiding in quiet grey fog. There is plenty of pretty architecture here, and during free days I leisurely walk through my lively neighborhood to the historical centrum, just looking at little shops and cafes. Of all the Dutch cities I have seen, I prefer to live in the Hague. There is no big party scene here, but an active expat community as well as a good range of international restaurants and cosy bars. Within the city I can bike anywhere in less than half an hour, and frequent trains take me conveniently anywhere else. I have already made many city trips in the Netherlands.

The Hague has amazing sunsets!

Dutch people are cheerful/loud, tall/giant, direct/rude, confident/arrogant, pragmatic/cheap - depending on how you look at it. The longer I live here the more similarities I notice between Dutchies and Finns. Both skip small talk, make weird jokes and act tough. I like my Dutch friends but it is quite hard to find my way into their busy schedules, so it is somehow easier to befriend with other expats also new in the country. When I first moved here I took a basic Dutch language course. I pick up words quickly so I can read simple texts pretty well and even speak myself, but I have a hard time with listening understanding. Everyone speaks excellent English and has little patience to speak simple Dutch to me, so I have dropped my attempt to learn it.

Dutch people love to sit outside - both in good and bad weather

My two biggest complaints are dreadful weather and lack of nature. On average it rains here every third day, which makes especially winters depressing. Apart from small residential parks, everything is built, paved and populated. Before moving here I did not even realize how much free space and wilderness mean to me. The truth is I live in the Netherlands almost solely for my career. Despite the comfortable life here, soon I will hit the point when I want to relocate somewhere I can fully enjoy living.

Sand dunes on the long coastline

Long ago learnt life lesson

"If there is something I really want, I try my hardest to get it. I do not give up until I either succeed or fail. Then, no matter what the outcome, there is no room for second doubting."

I made that decision in September 2002. It was a dark rainy night and I was crying my eyes off. I was cycling home from the ice rink, for the last time. My coaches had just told me that despite the good progress I had made during the past summer, I was not skilled enough to keep up with the rest of the team. I had been given two choices: to be an alternate or quit. I had chosen the later one.

I started skating at the age of 12, which is undeniably late to become any good at it. But from the very first practice on I loved it! There were no sufficient training facilities or coaching available in my little town, but I compensated it with enthusiasm. Many mornings before school I went to the ice rink to practice on my own. I was a huge fan of this junior synchronized team three hours drive from my town. I kept watching videos of their programs, thinking that my life would be perfect if I skated with them.

USA exchange student in 1999

I had a friend on that team and she encouraged me to ask for a try-out skate. I still remember that evening 15 years ago like it had been just yesterday. What a feeling it was being on the ice with those girls and joining them on some circles and blocks! At the end of the session the coach said I sure lacked technique and style, but I seemed talented enough to get a change. So I moved into the city; enrolled into a new high school and rented a room at this orderly lady's house.

At first everything went well. We were getting new programs and sharing spots to skate in them. I looked up to the other girls and was happy when they treated me nicely. But soon competition spots were announced and I was an alternate on both programs. At practices it was lonely and boring to always skate alone outside of the programs, and little by little I began losing my motivation. I got no attention from the coach, and a majority of the girls formed cool cliques leaving me and a few others outside.

I showed up at every practice but basically did nothing to train. I did not believe I could become as good as the other girls to earn a competition spot. I despised myself for being so pathetic and unsocial, but once I had fallen into the pattern of not trying I could not pull myself out of it. The season went by and I traveled to all competitions just to stand on the boards and watch the others to skate. I had never been as unhappy.

Nationals in 2002

At the beginning of the next season the team got new coaches and some quitted skaters got replaced by new ones. Somehow I stayed along, and similarly to the previous year I got to skate in the new programs as they were coreographed. It was a fresh beginning for me; I trained hard at all times and talked with the other girls. I felt like I finally belonged to the team and I enjoyed every moment of it. I even got to perform at a local hockey game!

When the season's first competition got closer, it was again time to announce competitors and alternates. Then I was told I could not make it; no matter how hard I would practice, the skill gap between me and the others would still remain too big. Swallowing tears I said goodbye to the team, them telling "It was a pleasure to see you train with such a great attitude change and improve so much. What a shame it was not enough in the end."

I failed reaching the biggest dream of my by-then lived life. I still cannot say whether I would have succeeded if from the beginning on I would have believed in myself to try my best. Now I think I would have improved enough to compete during the second season if I had trained properly during the first season. I will always keep doubting that one, but nevertheless I learned my most important life lesson.

Since that incident I have always fought full-on for what I want most (even though at times I do not really know what it is). Sometimes I have made mistakes, sometimes I have lost it all and sometimes I have gotten exactly what I wanted. Determination is one of the characters I nurture most and I aim to keep it up!

Successful come-back at junior B level in 2005!

Friendly bolting in Frankenjura - does it exist?

Somehow I had managed to commit myself to a two-week climbing holiday in Frankenjura. Do not ask me why. Being quite a fearful lead climber, Frankenjura's reputation of scary bolting should have turned me down. Indeed I had my doubts. So as the trip drew closer, I began furiously asking around for recommendations. All I got was discouraging comments, such as "Get more bold" or "Just top rope".

I <3 big bolt

I arrived in Köningstein, an idyllic Bavarian village where we rented a cosy apartment, with uncharasterictic attitude to just enjoy outdoors without stressing about climbing hard. (I love climbing hard; onsighting right at my skill level or red-pointing well rehearsed routes. That is when I am fully focused and motivated to succeed.) During the first week it rained, every single day. Sometimes we arrived at a crag just to find out it was wet, and sometimes it began raining right when we had tied up to go.

I must admit Frankenjura is not an easy destination for low grades. Most crags are small and they are scattered around, so throughout research is needed in order to find pleasant ones. We spent hours studying the guidebooks (Franken1 & Franken2, which also tell about each sector's bolting) and visited numerous crags to examine them ourselves. With this pragmatic approach we found nice sectors for the 5C-6C grades. I have listed my favorites below.

Even crags with bolting classified as "good" are far from perfect. Bringing a clip stick is a must, since first bolts are usually situated very high above bouldery starts. In general, crux parts are frequently bolted while easier parts can have longer bolt distances. Luckily route setters have been smart to place bolts where you most need them. Our experience proved that it is better to climb short routes, which more often are clean sustained lines, rather than long routes often having awkward crossings and weird topouts.

Over-bolted route!

We left many routes unclimbed because of poor bolting, but still we found equally many safe routes. We had great times getting pumped on overhang pocketed walls, where every move is all-on climbing! I ended up psyching myself to cleanly finish routes, swearingly pushing through powerful moves and taking falls on too difficult parts. With my perfectionist character it is a lot to say that I am satisfied with my efforts in Frankenjura.

It's easy to smile with a strong belayer :P

To conclude, would I recommend Frankenjura to the low grade climber? Yes, with some patience to search and willingness to conquer fear, it is a lovely destination. Not only peaceful forests and lush farmlands, but also bakeries with tasty cakes and of course cheap local beers make it worthwhile to visit. And the sun shone during the second week.

Sectors (in order of visit, not preference) & my top 3 routes:
- Zimmerbergwände
- Hartensteiner Wand
- Hetzendorfer Wand
- Weissenstein
- Schöne Aussicht
- Roter Fels (*Fur Conny 7)
- Stadeltenne (*Alltag in Franken 7+/8-)
- Elfenwelt
- Johnny Cash Wand
- Leupoldsteiner Wand
- Freudenhaus (*Emanuelle 7)

[Note on June 2018. I climb in Franken almost every month now, so I just keep adding to the list of good crags...]
- Marientaler Wand
- Weidener Wand (*Weisser Streifen)
- Grossenoher Wand (*Prost Paul)

Express friendships

I get whiny when I am even a little bit sick. Fever and headache are already a misery themselves, but my worst problem is boredom. When I feel physically weak I also get somehow lonely.

Building deep friendships takes time, even several years. When I lived in Finland, even though I spent some odd months abroad, I had fixed sets of friends from school, work and hobbies. I met the same people regularly and we knew almost everything about each other's lives. Because I wanted to focus on these few good friendships, I seldom had time to meet new people.

However, since I started traveling I have made dozens of portable friends all over the world. My phone is filled with catch-up conversations, and I have local guides wherever I choose to travel. These friendships are intensively built through shared experiences during relatively short time periods. They often share same world views and attitudes.

As time goes by, I stay less and less in touch with my Finnish friends. It is fun messaging with my world friends but they are not here, either. I realize that everyone has some closer friend than me - I am not very important to anyone. When I miss someone hundreds of miles away, I must remind myself that s/he means more to me than I mean to her/him.

I am living a trade off, just like many other expats and travelers. One may say that there are the normal nationalities, and then there is the traveling society. It consists of people from all over world, who are just passing by for a few weeks, months or years. Those people are full of stories and up for a quick drink just to chat with someone interesting. They instantly give much of themselves but do not get attached. I am becoming one of them.

This lifestyle is attracting and makes me feel like I am never getting stuck. Like this guy, with whom I just spent five days at a climbing camp and will most likely never see again, said that we are going through express friendships. I must admit that alongside this ever changing social scheme I miss having a few long term friends who stay with me. Could I have the best of both sides?

Happily in the middle of my oldest and newest climbing friends...

...I trust my life in their hands as they belay me...

...to see amazing places like Geyikbayir.

All positive at work

Hot midday sun is shining directly at us when we get out of the car. Our driver has taken us - me, my Costa Rican colleague and our Scottish consultant - to a rural farm in Nicaragua. We are visiting one of our beneficiaries, a man who got a biodigester through a joint program managed by my organization, another development organization and a dozen of local companies, assisted by a consulting firm, verified by a standard association and funded by a couple of governments. Rule number one about international development is that there are tons of stakeholders involved. Often my work is simply shooting around emails to make sure everyone involved knows what is going on what they are supposed to be doing.

The man shows us around his farm; the cows whose dung is used to produce biogas, the biodigester itself, and the stove and lamp which are fueled by biogas. His family no longer cooks with open fire, saving them time of collecting firewood and money of buying LPG, as well as preventing them from inhaling harmful air particles. The man proudly tells that now, after several empty years, his precious tree is again producing many fruits, thanks to using the digester leftover slurry as fertilizer. He tells that he could chop off the tree and sell it for good money, but instead he keeps it to show biodiversity to his children. I have a smile on my face. This is the first time I am on the field seeing how our biogas programs truly help poor people in developing countries. I feel that all the excel calculations, Skype conversations and process graphs I produce at the office have true meaning in the improved lives of faraway people.

Noni fruit (I guess)

Then the man takes us to a building where he hands us delicious dark chocolate. He explains that he grows cocoa beans at a nearby field and with a few hand-used machines produces chocolate of them. Unfortunately he cannot afford to license his chocolate to distribute it to shops. We do not get to meet his wife or children, because they live in the nearest city due to the children's schooling. Instead his neighbors come over every evening to cook also their meals with the biogas stove. I am glad our work schedule allowed for this one day outside. Just like in any other job, my work trips are mostly about meeting rooms, hotels, conferences and restaurants. Those trips are intense, interesting, motivating and useful, but also very tiring. I ask my manager to go on them, and then I enjoy getting back home.

Chocolate production machine

COP21 in Paris

I really like my work. It is not about money (I get paid half less than in my previous job) but it is about important world issues, intellectual and social challenges, motivated colleagues and new innovations. The international development sector is inspirational and full of ambitious professionals, from whom a newbie like me learns something new content related each day. On the other hand, at pragmatic level I have knowledge to share. Project management, marketing, process development, budgeting and strategy work are similar at companies and NGOs. I believe that by utilizing my previous experience, quickly gaining sector expertise and efficiently networking, I can succeed if I want to. However, even more important than public recognition is the everyday joy my work brings me. For the first time ever, I like going to work in mornings. Even during a climbing trip in Spain I felt tempted to reply to work emails. That is quite something.

With colleagues at food truck festival

The Dutch icon - bicycle

I want to ride my bicycle...

I began interested in long distance cycling the summer before last, when I realized my years old dream to attend DALMAC, a five day long bike tour across Michigan. (By the way, it was yet another of my ex-tempore things to do. I had not previously ridden a road bike, nor cycled more than 25km on one go. I trained for a few weeks and, with spaghetti legs and aching back, managed to cycle across those 500km to see stunning landscapes, meet friendly people and live in tent camps.)

Fellow cyclists fixed my broken tire

When I got a job in the Netherlands, I saw the opportunity to further pursue my newly found cycling hobby in this land where a bike is a national icon. Dutch cycling has roots back in the 1930s; During the great depression its government boosted employment by building an extensive cycling path network all over the country. Nowadays there are 18 million bikes in the Netherlands, which is more than one bike per person. Over 70% of all journeys shorter than 7,5km are made on bikes. Many companies offer their employees bike plans. For example, my employer pays a fifth of a new bicycle and also supports in purchasing rain gear, as here crappy weather is no excuse to use public transport.

My cycling had quite an ironic start. While I had sold almost everything I owned, I had decided to hold onto my expensive bike, which I stored in Finland. Firstly I had it shipped over here and payed to get it assembled back into one piece. Then I had accessories, such as a bottle holder and a front pack, installed onto it. Then I had it repaired after a car crushed it at a parking lot. Then it got stolen it front of my home. "Now you must feel truly integrated into the Dutch society, as everyone gets their bikes stolen here", my friends said. "But yeah it sucks. Have a beer." (I am starting to feel that having a beer is a common quick solution around here. No matter if it is a touch day at work, a delayed train or a sucky climbing practice, beer fixes it.)

In addition to taking my bike everywhere (I now have a new one), I enjoy recreational cycling very much. There is a country-wide system that numbers cycling path crossings, called knots. I bought a booklet with 30 designated cycling loops around my area. By following sings for the knots I can cycle through sand dunes, posh neighborhoods, historic villages, farmlands, colorful forests and royal castle yards. Going for those 20-50km long bike rides has been my main tourist activity here in the Netherlands. Nicely the guide also points out sightseeing landmarks and cosy cafes, where I can taste local cuisine and practice my Dutch language skills.

In the Netherlands cycling has an established status as a way of transportation. Each road has spacious bike lines and intersections, and due to high number of bicyclists there are specific traffic rules, which by the way can be somewhat confusing to new-comers. To make already polite car drivers even more careful, in a case of an accident the car is always guilty, no matter how badly the bike has screwed up. It is compulsory by law to have lights at dark, but on the contrary no one wears helmets.

Knot point directions

Even though the Netherlands is probably already the world's number one cycling country, it keeps leading new innovations. Bike highways are similar to car highways; they are straight, fast connections between major cities without connections to every small neighborhood. Technology is enabling to improve biking in bad weather. Censors identify rain and make traffic lights stay green longer for cyclists to prevent them from getting wet in red lights.

So to put my theft tragedy in perspective, around five percent of all bikes here get stolen yearly. They must circulate around so much that my friends have a point in their saying "There are no one's own bikes here. There are just bikes around." Anyhow as an expat I feel it is my responsibility to keep up the foreigner image, so also my replacement bike is a nice one and I wear a helmet when I go touring.

...I want to ride my biiike!