Good landings

My friend has a new sparkle in her eyes and her radiant energy is contagious. We are at Juan Valdez, the coffee shop at Guayaquil airport where we first met two years ago and as we lift our cups of tea to make a toast, my friend exclaims: "To good landings!" We burst out laughing at the way she says it, but the message is well received. What she means is, may you land softly. May the people that are waiting for you on the other side of the Atlantic take good care of you and nourish you back to health. May this next adventure you're about to embark upon bring you lots of happiness. 

Twelve hours later, I land smoothly in Madrid and shortly after, four people have already struck up a conversation with me. The taxi driver talks nonstop on the ride from the airport, telling me all about the ten years he spent in South America and how he would never go back. Madrid is the place to be, according to him. The hotel receptionist is also awfully chatty, circling all the things he thinks I should see on a map and recommending a tapas restaurant nearby where the waiters are as tall and good-looking as the food is tasty. (All true, by the way). At the table next to me is a Spanish couple with a baby who can't stop staring at this strange lady eating by herself. The parents and I talk for a while and they welcome me to their city with smiles as warm as the sun.

After lunch, I wander round for a couple of hours and despite my blond hair and the huge map that I'm dragging around, nobody "mistakes" me for a tourist. In fact, I get asked for directions at least five times, by Spaniards. Does that mean I fit in? Do I look like I belong? I'm not sure. 

The view from my hotel room in Madrid, Spain

Once I land in Helsinki, I'm greeted with big smiles and warm hugs from my dearest friends - the ones that I've had for twenty years without any conflict and drama, only laughter and unconditional support. I spend a few days with them before moving on to the town where my family lives. It's the end of August but the days are still sunny and bright and for someone who recently said a lot of goodbyes, each 'hello' and 'welcome back!' feels as nice as the Indian summer.

Despite the loving care from my family and friends, I feel like an alien for a couple of weeks. Everything is familiar and everyone looks the same, yet I can't shake the feeling of being different. I'm not the odd one out anymore, I'm one in the crowd but I'm lonely. I'm home but I feel homeless. I'm back where I started but more lost than ever. Until I find a yoga school nearby and finally land on my mat. After the first yoga class, my arthritic hand hurts so much that I cry for two days. Then I wipe the tears and go back. I adapt my practise and slowly, I start to flow.

Being back on my mat reminds me of who I used to be, but I still don't recognize the person that I see in the mirror. Therefore, I decide to do something more radical - I cut my hair. Most of it has fallen off due to stress and medication anyway, so instead of trying to cover up the bald spots, I choose to chop it all off. I can't watch as the hairdresser has her way with the scissors, so I keep my head down until the last of my blond strands have landed on the floor. Then, I look up and there I am. Still blond but with the shortest hair I've ever had. Still me, but also someone new.

One of my friends in Quito used to find it amusing that he could never quite predict what I was going to do or say. "You're such a wild card," he would chuckle, shaking his head. Since I've been home, I've come to think that maybe he was right. Not even I know where I'm going half the time. They say home is where the heart is but I no longer resonate with that saying - mine has been scattered in too many places in the world. Maybe home is simply where we are happy and at peace. I may not be fully there yet, but at least I'm back on dry land. I have landed and might even be ready for take-off to another destination soon.

I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself. (Maya Angelou)

The view from my parent's home in Vaasa, Finland

I left my heart in Quito

It's late at night, we're on a crowded bus and my friends have fallen asleep in their seats, worn out after a long day of hiking. I, on the other hand, keep my eyes wide open because I want to see Quito by night one last time. Driving into this capital in the highlands always makes me feel so happy and peaceful; it's like coming home. Now, it reminds me of the first night I arrived, when it was pitch dark and I had to wait until the next morning to step outside my apartment and see the mountains for the first time. My first week in Quito was one of the happiest in my life. My then love invited me to have breakfast on his balcony and as I sat there wearing his white shirt, trying not to spill while watching the mountains and soaking up the sunshine, I thought... I might be falling in love. 

Mi Quito bonito

How could you not love this city?

The bus driver turns up the volume as another reggeaton song comes on. It's No te vas by Venezuelan singer Nacho and I recognize every word of the lyrics: "De aquí no te vas sin mí, de aquí no me voy sin ti - You will never leave from here without me, I will never leave from here without you." It's the song that my boyfriend used to sing to me while playing with my hair and even though my heart aches from no longer being in that moment and in his arms, I know that I am very blessed to have experienced such love. 

I get back to my apartment which is already half empty and as I pack up the rest of my things, the walls speak to me of all the happy times that I spent here. They also remind me of that one night that I woke up in agonizing pain to watch in horror as my right hand and left foot kept swelling. It was two o'clock in the morning when I reached for the phone with my left hand to ask my friends to take me to the hospital. I knew there and then that something was very wrong and my body hasn't been the same since then. Nor has my life. Learning to live with a chronic disease has changed everything, but not necessarily for the worse. I have learned to have more understanding of those in a similar situation and I hope that I've become more compassionate, towards others as well as myself. 

My goodbye party in Molinuco - La Gran Cascada del Pita 

My phone beeps. My friends are sharing pictures from our hiking trip in the jungle and as I watch them, these adventurous souls that I love so much, I feel nothing but gratitude. There are my colleagues, making silly faces and enjoying a day out in nature. There are my friends who have been by my side all along. And there's one of my first friends that I hadn't seen in so long and when I hugged her today, all the memories of those first days in Quito came back. So much has happened, so much has changed. She sends me a message the next day, saying: "I hope you'll find your way back to being the warrior you once were." 

It hits me then, how much I've changed and how lost I really feel. "I forgot who I am", I whisper to my other friend, the one who knows me best. He puts his arm around me and replies in his gentle way: "Even warriors fall down, amiga. Especially when they get beaten over and over again. But here's the thing - a true warrior always gets back up, no matter how long it takes." 

Guápulo

La Floresta

My last weeks in Quito, I say goodbye to all my favorite places in the city, leaving my footprints and little pieces of my heart in every corner. I stop by at work to clean out my space and enjoy the view of the mountains one last time. I go to Guápulo and La Floresta, my favorite neighborhoods, to take a ton of pictures of the colorful graffiti. I go to the historic center in the south with my first friend in Ecuador and as we manage to sneak into a hidden garden and convince the guard to let us climb up to the church tower after hours, I realize that my favorite memories are of my adventures with her. 

Iglesia San Francisco Garden 

Centro histórico Quito - view of el Panecillo

Finally, I climb to the top of Rucu Pichincha, the first volcano that I climbed in Ecuador and it seems like the circle is full. The adventure has been completed. This is where I'm at my happiest, this is where I say goodbye. Or, as my boyfriend so beautifully put it: "No es una despedida, mi amor, es un hasta luego - It's not goodbye, my love, it's see you later."

Hasta luego - see you later