About ‘Taking it easy’, futsal and female gene thing

I managed to catch a flu mid last week, or not really flu but a cactus ended up to my throat and I was dead tired and overslept both Thursday and Friday. I decided to “take it easy” during weekend to make sure I am in good shape heading for Melbourne. Back in Finland I was very bad in the “take it easy” promise. According to my dear brother 98% of times when I have told him on Friday afternoon to “take it easy, going just for a glass of wine and early to bed” I have ended having a massive night out and a bottle instead of the glass (no. I don’t have a problem but I get easily carried away in good company). Nothing has changed from Helsinki to Brisbane and “Take it easy” did not happen. What happened was basically Sauvignon Blanc. On Friday night I had agreed to do the October dress up fine-dining evening with Marijke. This time our chosen restaurant was E’cco, a modern Australian restaurant in CBD/Fortitude Valley. I had very high expectations based on reviews and The Good Guide and once again the food turned out to be mediocre and definitely not worth the price. It is a common story here. Rare restaurants are excellent or surprising and most of them pure main stream according to my standards, Sake is still favorite. Anyways the night was lovely as always, talk about life with big heart. Looking at the big picture I really don’t care if I am eating rice cakes or pickled onions as long as I can have a good catch-up with a dear friend...it’s the catch up that really counts. We also got free glass of wine that was left over from a couple sitting next to us who were in “get a room” state throughout the dinner and poor Marijke was sitting sideway opposite to the lady whose breasts were disturbingly out there. She deserved the extra glass

Saturday I made another promise to “take it easy” that lasted until 8pm when I grabbed a bottle of cold SB from fridge and headed to have few drinks at Marijke’s balcony (she has a lovely balcony with very cosy sofa that is perfect for spending the whole night out). Everyone had apparently brought at least one bottle of wine, which with simple math leads to the situation of everyone drinking at least one bottle too. I don’t remember what time it was when I headed back home curled up to a blanket (it was cold in my opinion, i.e. I was more sick leaving when coming) and having difficulties to walk straight. How did this happen? It happens. Oh well, that was only the second night in a row. On Sunday I kind of gave up the hope of “taking it easy” as I was attending a farewell party and had agreed last night at Marijke’s balcony to continue straight to Story Bridge Hotel to watch Australia- New Zealand world champs Rugby game (another indicator of me being drunk on Saturday to promise go and see rugby...I recall we were talking also something about getting the Wallabies game shirts (!!) which luckily didn’t happen...pheeew). I enjoyed the wine at the farewell party, I thought it was a brilliant idea to continue to SBH around 6pm, thought the situation also called for more SB, got more SB and around 8.30pm realized I need to go to work the next morning and made the best decision of the weekend not to continue with others to Boundary for drinks but headed home to Skype with Mom and Kiira instead. It was lovely to Skype again and see Kiira eat blueberry pie and explain what she had done with Mumma during weekend. I cried afterwards a little. I’ve been fairly emotional lately and missing the little people a lot. More than anything I wished I could have her on my lap, read a book and smell her hair and give a kiss too.  I gave her a “lentosuukko” in Skype instead and got many of them back. I love her and she loves me. That is what really counts.

So in a nutshell I had an awesome weekend that was more out of hand than easy going and I decided not to make such a foolish promise “to take it easy” again. It was foolish after all. Especially when I made it to office 8.45 on Monday looking almost fresh and rested. On Mondays almost is enough.

I’ve also played football, or futsal whatever. Well, you cannot call it “playing” as such but yes I have been on a futsal court, part of black team and wondering what the hell I am doing here and counting seconds for some 40 minutes and cursing one particular project Friday pub were I was persuaded to join. I do think the recruitment method was a bit questionable; to start with, it happened around 9pm after some 5 hours of happy hour. Me and my colleague were guessing the home country of one of our stream leads based on his accent, I voted for Italy/Spain, my colleague was confident for France, the loser was supposed to buy a beer and I lost (also wondering how come I agreed the price to be a beer as I don’t even drink beer). He was French. Anyways I had a chat with the French stream lead, later on he came to ask if I wanted a glass of SB and join his team "The Happy Miners" in the project futsal tournament as they are lacking ladies and each team has to have at least two ladies playing. I was slightly blinded by the first question that obviously got “yes” and didn’t really listen what the second question was and in no time he handed over a team shirt and said “see u in a week Monday”. Shit. Wot? I said I really cannot play football, I don’t know what “paitsio” is and the only games I have watched were two last games of Uruguay in the world champs 2010 and solely because of Diego Forlan *sigh for Diego* He said it doesn’t matter if I can play or not and “no one of us can and it’s all about fun and games”.  Great, I am into team activities and fun and games. Or so I thought.

Anyways, this Monday I attended my very first ever futsal game as a "Happy Miner" and thinking back, I guess the last time I have played football goes to 1980s when the gymnastic teacher gave football and orienteering as the options to choose from and with my sense of direction I was kind of forced to choose football. Luckily my very positive and optimistic colleague and a team player Bec promised to come with me from office to the game venue and reassured me throughout our way that “it’s a lot of fun and you’ll manage fine”. Ok, I can do this. At the TAFE centre I needed to invest 16 dollars for proper socks (at least 1 meter long very thick and uncomfortable and ugly socks) and shin pads, I said out loud that in my wildest dreams I didn’t really see myself investing any money to a pair of shin pads and life has a tendency to surprise. I had a black team shirt on so all of my fellow colleagues with black shirt were my team members. Here we go. I’ll tell you straight the game was not fun and games. For starters I don’t have that boyish urge to “fight for the ball” so the idea of chasing it and trying to tackle opposite team members to get the ball felt somehow very strange. I am a kind person and don’t like tackling people. So I chose the strategy of staying away from the hassle and if the ball came my way I tried to get rid of it as soon as possible. Other thing causing discomfort was with the position on the field. Throughout the game one guy (from my team) was shouting “up Anna, Down Anna, Up Anna” and I found that very confusing. I think it was even a bit rude to shout to me, especially when he was not playing. So I got very irritated for this guy as I think he should’ve just left me alone. Mur. Then the last bit was with the kicking itself. It’s difficult. My first problem was not knowing if I should kick with left or right foot. I think I am a leftie (left leg is my stronger one) but in the sudden situation of the ball coming against the decision wasn’t that clear and I struggled to make one. And if you struggle to make a decision the momentum might be gone already. The fourth problem was hitting the ball in case I had made the decision early. You might miss the ball if you are not looking at it when kicking. This happened quite a few times too. I think it was 5 minutes before the end of game and after my 10^th miss when dear Bec gave me advice “Anna, look at the ball when you are kicking”. Okie. Thanks. I think it was a brilliant advice but too bad no one was passing for me during the last 5 minutes (for a reason as the situation was 6-6 and my team mates didn’t really see me as THE key asset for us to win) and I didn’t get a chance to fix the problem. “Look at the ball” must be the universal rule of thumb for any ball game but still it is easier said than done...I’ve struggled with it also with tennis (I am way better in tennis than football which is kind of comforting, also with tennis you get to wear pretty clothes and decide yourself if you’re up or down).  I do believe the challenge with “eye on the ball” is a female gene thing. It is natural for women to look further than the moment at hand. In life, for example, women are very often speculating and trying to crystal ball the situation further than it is really possible and our focus is in the opportunities going forward rather than in the second we are experiencing. Funny enough, here I have been living more in the moment than ever before, I actually don’t have the ability to plan long haul. I have absolutely no idea where I am in 6/12/18 months, in terms of work, life and myself (location ought to be Bris for a year at least) and it feels painful when my manager is in a side sentence telling me to commit to the project until end of 2012 as I cannot even plan what I will eat for dinner or what to do the next weekend. Down under I am not that interested about future ahead but more so about the moment of now. But the normal thing gene happens with tennis (and football apparently), as a woman I am not that interested about the moment of racket touching the ball but instead what’s happening opposite side of the net when the ball gets there. And sure, I have learned in a very harsh way that before the ball really gets to the other side of the net (and doesn’t end up being a weather observation ball or one in the net) you need to look at it as the touch point is the most important moment in the life of the ball determining its future. Long story short, I blame the female genes for missing the ball. And to summarize: I suck at football big time. BIG.  Anyways after the game the French stream lead who recruited me asked if I enjoyed the game “No. I hated every second”. He looked confused and sorry. Seriously, if he paid attention in the game, he should be smart enough not to ask.  I told Bec I think this was my first and last try. She said “it will only get better” and we just need to work on my attack game. I don’t know if I want to attack. I am a kind person after all.

Rest of life has been mainly work. Few hours ago I delivered a big junk of stuff I have been working the past few weeks (on top of on-boarding), got very positive feedback and am ready to take off to Melbourne tomorrow morning to celebrate dear Simone and Markus getting married. Yes, I have a long weekend ahead in Melbourne and I am so excited I almost cannot stay in my pants. Next week’s post is also a bit in danger zone as I arrive from Melb late Sunday night and head to Sunshine coast for a workshop until Friday afternoon. So most likely no news next week but double news the week after.

Now I better continue packing. JIIIIIIIIIIIIHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!

//Ansku

PS: I hate packing. Hate is a strong word and I hate packing.

About Straddie, stalker crab and getting fined by officer with kind eyes

Highlight of last week was definitely a visit to Stradbroke Island on Sunday. North Stradbroke or Straddie as the locals call it is the second largest sand island in the world, Fraser Island being the largest and Moreton the third largest. Whereas Moreton Island was 98% of protected national park, Straddie isn’t. It has about 2000 permanent residents, three townships, pretty decent road infrastructure, lots of resorts and even 2 sand mines (if mining companies get a footage somewhere you can forget the nature protecting part). Basically two thirds of the island is leased by mining companies which has been a bit of a hot potato considering the environmental and native heritage value of the island and the mines are forced to shut down latest 2025 (or so I was told).  Good thing with Straddie from touristy point of view is that you get there with your own car, a normal car, which gives of course more flexibility to come and go as you like. You get to the Island with ferry, leaving once an hour and we took the early 8am one as guys went diving (I need to sign up for a course soon)

So for me it was a beach day, perfect one with clear sky and lots of beach to take in a day. I started from Cylinder Beach as it was the first sign that came on my way, thought I will have lots of peace and quiet at 9am but that was certainly not the case and I was accompanied by (too) many families with (too) active and (too) loud kids for my needs. I had my towel, sunscreen, bunch of magazines and water and found a peaceful place that was safe from the footballs and frisbees flying around.  There was also a triathlon going on and the running route went through the beach. I felt a bit sorry for the people trying to make their way in the soft sand under the burning sun, it was so much easier to lie down and drift between naps, dreams and reading...I preferred my choice of Sunday “activity”.

Somewhere half way in the sleep I got a feeling that someone is watching me. I looked around, saw nothing else than the kids and sporty people going by and closed my eyes again. Got again distracted and was 110% sure someone, somewhere is staring at me. Annoying. This went on for some 15 minutes, got a bit nervous and finally looking a bit closer saw a little sand colour almost transparent crab that had very big eyes compared to the size of its body staring at me. Ha! I knew it! I took a picture, had a staring competition with it to make it go away, lost patience (and the staring competition), moved my towel a bit further away to be in private again and in seconds the little stalker followed me (it was apparently interested about my bright yellow towel) and started the staring. I once again went a bit further, the crab followed and stared. I tried to “shhh” it away and it always came back, and stared. Around 10.30 I decided to call it a game and head towards the main beach that’s supposed to be “amazing”. Totally worth it, no screaming kids, no hassle, no sand coloured big eyed crabs staring you, just  38km of beautiful white sand ahead. Think about it, 38km! Pure beach from Helsinki to Jarvenpaa? A hot surfer guy told me the beach was almost empty because of shark alert so I sat down, added some sunscreen, enjoyed the beach, ocean and hot surfers (oh dear) and thought it feels unreal to be here. “Just another Sunday in Australia”. Yeah right. I also had a big ice cream for lunch (as an adult you are allowed to do that) saw 2 whales and huge flock of dolphins and thought it is good that whales do not eat dolphins. I also hope the sharks aren’t eating the surfers who didn’t mind about the alerts. Passion for a sport makes you do crazy brave things?

Going back to ferry we were in terrible hurry as the dive was longer than planned and we had less than 20 minutes time to make it. I got nervous of the idea of missing the ferry, thought with the empty road ahead it is perfectly fine to over speed and cut corners “a little”, saw a police coming against, kind of realized I could be in trouble, saw the police do a u-turn and come after me, knew I am in deep shit and was asked to pull over. Shitshitfuckfuck. I am in trouble. I will go to jail. We will miss the ferry. I opened the window, the officer asked if I have any idea why they asked me to pull over, I gave an innocent smile and said no idea (a big lie of course), the officer asked if I know what the speed limit is, I gave another innocent smile and said ‘70 or 80 maybe . The officer said it is 70kph and they recorded me going 86kph, after breaking. Shitshitfuckfuck. That’s like shit load of over speed (didn’t say that out loud).

He asked me to come to their car. Showed me the recording of 86kph and said “it’s quite heavy over speed young lady”. Young!!!!  I smiled again, told I am extremely sorry, told I’ve never got fined before and cannot believe the first fine of my life happens at Straddie. The officer in charge smiled, he had very kind eyes too that made me feel at ease. Giving my driver’s licence the second officer got very interested of why I am at Australia, and even more interested after hearing I am not here for a holiday. So they all started to ask questions about my reasons to come to here, how I like it, what I have done so far and I told them the not-imported-white-wines-and-avocados-and-hot-surfer boys reasoning and said Straddie is a perfect place for the latter one and the second officer pointed out the white wine part and asked me to do a breath test. “Clean, that’s good news”. I knew that. I asked if I will get a fine and the officer with kind eyes said “I am afraid so, we cannot overlook this in any case”. Oh dear. I asked if it will be a huge fine and he smiled and said “no”. Pheeeew  *smile*.

As the 2 other officers continued asking questions about Finland and my plans in Australia the officer with kind eyes was filling in a fine form, got very confused with my Finnish drivers license and asked me to translate few things. He also said I look very different in the picture and complimented my current style to be lot better. I thanked him and blushed I guess. He asked the officer in the car about some codes, the officer in the car verified the code and said “you are lucky he’s in charge as he has a weak spot for blonds, you get the lowest fine instead of 400AUD”. Ouh? *smile for the officer with kind eyes*  I said “hi” to the officer in the car, and asked if they have the good cop/bad cop roles as in old movies? He laughed and said they are all nice guys. The officer with kind eyes said I will get 133AUD fine and 1 point deduction for my offence and he lets me go because I am “such a nice lady” and hopes I can still make it to the ferry. I smiled, thanked them, wanted to give him a hug (I didn’t) and promised to behave and obey the limits. They said “no worries” and wished me good rest of the Sunday. I thanked them again for being so kind and went back to car, sat down and felt my heart was almost jumping out of the chest. I go fined. I got my first fine with someone else’s car at Stradbroke Island Australia on a Sunday afternoon. I did a crime and got a fine on yellow paper. I lost a point. Don’t know if one point is a lot or not but I had still lost it. I also lost a point in "never have I ever" game (most of the people have got fined before, me too now obviously).The boys asked what happened, laughed when they heard about getting 300AUD discount and said that would never be possible if they were on driver’s seat. You play with the cards you have, huh? Sometimes it is extremely complicated to be a woman, at times (like this) it is so simple it leaves you amazed. God bless macho professions and officers having a weak spot for blonds. Just saved me 300AUD. Worth a nice dress and shoes :)

After getting yellow papered I had basically 3 minutes time to catch the ferry, obeying the speed limit of course, I think we are not making it. At the port the ferry looked full and there were four 4WD in stand-by and a guy shaking his head for our late arrival and talking over the radio to see if it fits one more. Luckily we were the smallest car on the queue and got a go to try to fit in…made it hardly…had audience (of men) on the upper level watching how the lady squeezes in the BMW. Not fair. I just got fined and really don’t need audience with this one *wants to show mental middle finger*. Figuring out from the whistles and cheers there’s apparently something “interesting” with a blond driving a black sporty BMW? Que? We got in with zero extra space, my heart was still racing, and I think I had a lot of luck on my side the past 10 minutes. Luckily rest of the Sunday was less exciting. My heart beat got steady, got home happy, tired and hungry and went to Story Bridge hotel to have some dinner and chill out. Got dinner but no chill out as there was on Aussie rugby game going on and the place crowded with fanatic supporters. Australia won, I guess. What a Sunday.

This week has been very interesting at work. I am continuing with onboarding on the topics I am working on and realized I have learnt something as it takes less energy to follow the conversation (I can speak mine on some level!)  But on the other hand, I’ve gained the level of knowledge to understand there’s heaps of stuff I DONT understand and there is a lot of complexity in terms of the business, different functional areas, project and our approach too. So my learning curve is pretty much getting vertical, which is exactly what I wanted and days go flying by. I also get more and more confident with the fact that I have an amazing team around me and we’ll have quite a ride together. Good people is one of my key motivators at work, I can deal with lot of shit if I am dealing with it in good company. So the anxiety with work is easing up thanks to fun and smart people and the relaxed feeling at the office. I have my own seat (and locker) too, with my name in it, first time since 3.5 years or something. Feels very grown-up and official.

I’ve also Skyped a lot this week, with friends and family. It is fun to hear what’s happening back home, or to be honest to realize that not much has changed back homw while I am having a 24/7 adventure here. I also don’t mind the cold-buu-dark-buu-wet-buu updates I am reading every morning, while I am writing this I have my balcony door open as it is pretty warm outside (and inside) already. So my friends start saving and planning your escape to warmer side of the world, it’s my 5^th day without woollen socks again.

Pus pus

//Ansku

PS. After this I upload new pics, losts of them. I know I've been terribly bad with it so far...try to behave better in the future. Try.

About bad hair day, rye bread, new places and work stuff too

So last week was the final week at site and I was more than happy to pack my stuff early Friday morning and leave Dysart and later on Moranbah airport for a while. It also meant I am done with facilitating the training sessions, managed to repeat the same some 30 or so times. End of intermediate role and beginning of well deserved weekend. From the airport I headed almost immediately to Guggenheim for Hair to get my style updated and the girl who had done my hair well earlier wasn’t there and I was introduced to a new girl, a young one, with not that cool style and way too much make-up. I didn’t feel at ease at all *Please do not f*** up my hair*. And of course she did, at least according to my standards. She had absolutely no idea what to do. I’ll give you an example. She asked if I am having the part in the middle. Yes I am, please. Then she makes the part about 3 cm to the left. A: Excuse me but that’s not middle? Oh, uups, you’re right. Then she blow-dried my hair super puffy making me look like a US house wife (cookies and juice) and said she’ll cut it dry. I said I never dry my hair like this, so could she kindly cut it when it’s less puffy so that the cut is more normal and lasts longer. Ok, no worries. So she used the straightener to make it flat again and cut it way too short from the back and asked only afterwards if I would’ve wanted to keep it longer as it was earlier.  The final moment of horror was with the fringe…first time she got it skewed, second time she got it skewed and third time she got it too short as there were no options. Thanks, I think I am done now. So after 3.5 hours I left Guggenheim disappointed, stressed, feeling I look like a boy. I was told I do not look like a boy. I was told the style is more “spicy” than the earlier one. I was told there is not much difference between the earlier and this one (a comment from a guy, obviously) I was told hair has the tendency to grow a bit every day. But bye bye for the comfort zone of finding a good hairdresser. A peeled potato became a mashed potato. Buu.

So what to do after depressing hairdresser visit? Go out. Go eat. Go drink. Go and see new places. Go and celebrate the fact that you don’t need to be in Dysart or Moranbah next week. I went. The place for the night was a busy Mexican at Bulimba, a small and lively part of the city at “the other side of the river” opposite to Powerhouse and New Farm. Basically the heart of Bulimba is Oxford Street that has loads of restaurants and small shops, like Boundary Street here at West End. It’s very typical for different parts of the city to have THE one and only street where the life happens and rest of it is just suburb. After few glasses of Sangria and tasty Fajitas I had forgotten my bad hair day... Food and wine can also solve any problem outside office hours…at office I still stick to coffee and macaroons. For the sake of drug and alcohol policy.

Then the long waited moment of rye bread. Oh boy it happened on Saturday morning, sunny October 2^nd around 10.30 am after a good night sleep. I finally got a chance to end my rye bread celibacy after 3 months and one week, took a picture and everything. On purpose I saved the bread for a Saturday as it is my favourite morning of the week (unless Friday gets out of hand) and I am overly protective for getting to wake-up slowly and eat my breakfast in peace, with time and quality newspaper. I did miss the quality newspaper but had the latest Hesarin Kuukausiliite instead as I had asked mom to send one over.  Oh the joy. I had the bread with ham and cheese and a cup of good coffee, like my usual brekkie back in Finland, excluding the carrots as they are not that sweet here at the moment (since 1999 I have had the routine of eating a carrot with my morning coffee…a habit that came out of nowhere and stayed until coming here). I ate it in silence and smiled, it was a sweet reunion, tasted like home, like childhood too. What a great Finnish Breakfast Simulator :) What a way to start the weekend! I sign up for the cliché of Finns missing salmiakki and ruisleipa the most...try yourself to live without!

Later that day we had planned the already traditional Dress Up Wine-Dining evening with Marijke and her dear friend Marijke who is visiting Australia for few weeks. We agreed earlier that this will be a monthly happening but did not find a free weekend on September so need to do twice in October. Not a problem. Some people here are also attending Ocsober (a sober October that is a fundraising initiative) but I think it is a very foolish idea (to give up beautiful wines, not the good purpose and fundraising), it would ruin our wine-dining promise and decided to save my alcohol-free months “for later”. I can also report on behalf of Marijke that she’s not doing it either. Our chosen new restaurant was Tukka, a modern Australian restaurant at Boundary street that is supposed to belong to the fine dining category. Hopes up. We all of course went for the exotic discovery menu with matching wines…full glass...why would someone take only half a glass? The menu had lots of stuff I had never tasted before, like emu, kangaroo, crocodile and weird berries. Emu was like chewing gum and not that good to be honest – a no go. It tasted like it looks like; old, ugly, angry and dry bird that has been spent most of the life under the burning sun. Kangaroo was better but I had a bit of emotional dilemma as I think kangaroos are pretty cute animals (stems from Winnie The Pooh, who would ever like to eat Kanga or Roo?) and I could never tell to the little people I have been eating Kangaroo. Crocodile was the most exotic one, taste in between fish and game. We also learned that crocodile is categorized as seafood (which of course makes sense as they spend most of their time in water but I thought it would be meat) and has very little fat, less than 1% or so. The taste was very unique and strong, I think I didn’t like it, even with a bit of rocket salad and raspberries and good white wine. It tasted like danger if danger has a taste. Scared me a bit. Anyways we enjoyed the dinner, wine and good company and continued to Valley to Press Club to dance the night a way. Rest of the night is history, good booty shaking, good times, home late or early, depends how you look at it. Highly appreciated tradition we have here.

I’ve also seen few new places during the weekend, Redcliffe and Montville. Redcliffe is a small (and windy) beach very near Brisbane, only some 20km away and a good option if you get up late and have overly slow morning and still want to see a proper beach (all applied). Most of the people there where families with small kids and few fisher men too, zero surfers and therefore the place doesn’t make to my top 10 list.  I missed the sunscreen so our visit was pretty short, but had enough time to read few Finnish magazines, listen some music and get the weekly portion of Pacific Ocean watching (well, in reality the beach is on Moreton Bay but if you look far enough you see the endlessness too). It is funny how you easily lose perspective here, a beach like Redcliffe would be considered luxury in Finland, but after Moreton, Gold Coast, Sunshine Coast and Burleigh Heads it feels like a kids meal, tasty but leaves you hungry...and only three months ago I was more than proud of my “back yard” Hietsu :) When it comes to beaches and strawberries I am blinded by size here. The strawberries are huge too. I was not blinded by size when going to Montville. It is a beautiful little city about 100km from Bris and warmly recommended by my (already) ex colleague from South Africa. On our way there we spotted a little stand selling first mangoes of the season, got 4 for 10 dollars and asked the lady to pick the best ones. I was like a little kid who had just seen Santa Claus, I get to eat fresh mangoes soon!! Road to Montville was steep uphill again and the view very pretty the higher we got. Again we saw quite a few brave cyclists all going uphill and looking strong, respect. Montville turned out to be a small and cosy little town (as promised) about 430 meters above sea level with weird combination of speciality shops from chocolate to clocks to toys to astrology to palm reading. There are also few small wineries in the region that definitely deserve a go but didn’t get one as my Saturday night out wasn’t that dry. In general I would compare Montville to Porvoo, it’s very friendly and romantic and in a way an escape from the busy reality. We got coffee with a great view to Sunshine coast and candies from the Chocolate Country. It is difficult to find proper “irtarit” here, so if you see some you better get some. Montville was worth visiting for sure, I think I’ll come back too.

Monday was yet another first day at work. It was my official start date vol.3 and again I was wearing my traditional first day purple Tara Jarmon dress. Finally the real thing. Now we are talking business. We had a full day kick off with bunch of new colleagues and project team members joining the project too. Got heaps of new info, lots of new faces and names and a coffee and acronym overdose. This project has acronym for almost everything, just to give you an example, I am in the R3 CIT L&PS team working with WM. Try explaining that to your mom. I am still waiting for R2D2 and 3CPO to show up, I used to play Star Wars a lot with my brother and cousin Kalle when we were kids. I was also asked to give a presentation about my time on site and I shared pictures, told stories and my lessons learnt and people were green with envy for the tour I got at Goonyella Riverside and commented it’s unfair the blue-eyed Europeans get always VIP treatment with monster truck rides and locals need to settle with meetings in barrack buildings. Anyways I was very happy after that day, I learned a lot of new things, was impressed by the approach we are having and realized the people I will be working with are very nice, have lot of knowledge and are on a same wave length too...i.e not at all uptight but funny and a bit crazy instead. So I am also somewhat optimistic that there will be good parties with this team, though nothing beats my previous team and managers in terms of partying and budget. Good times. Rest of the days I’ve spent onboarding. I have read tons of different documents, asked hundreds of stupid questions and been relieved as my colleagues and project counter parts are super helpful, know the business extremely well and are always gladly and patiently explaining me the details. I’ve learned a lot more about mining, the end-to-end process and random stuff like monster truck maintenance and site shut downs. I do feel a bit dizzy at times...it is such a different world. And I have never even changed a tyre to a car.

My evenings this week have been super busy, I guess I am trying to take back the missed city life after spending three weeks in a row at site. Every evening I have been out (especially glad about Tuesday when I met a dear friend I haven’t seen in two years or so), reason why this blog post comes late too :) So it was definitely needed to clear the calendar and have even one easy going evening at home, eat something else than restaurant food and drink mint tea and wear woollen socks (the orange ones from Kurrela) too as it is pretty cold at the moment. I was close to beating my record of 21 days without woollen socks but lost the game today with the coldness. Got till 16 which is pretty decent try.

But now I better go to bed to make sure I make it to the office at 8am. Sweet dreams my friends,

//Ansku

PS: A lot of people keep asking what items I miss in addition to Ruisleipa and salmiakki. Well Fazerin sininen, drinkable tap water and Helsingin Sanomat. Also running out of Kanebo 38 as it is not sold here at all. And Lakkahillo too. To mention few