The sum of steps is more than a summit reached

It was a chilly and clouded morning, that Sunday the 5th of July. We had been climbing for almost 7 hours in the darkness of a windy Ecuadorian summer night, our steps lit by ice-topped headlights and our hearts pumping to fight the lack of oxygen. I had fallen several times into glacier cracks en route. Climbing out of them demanded an extra toll on my already low energy levels; staring into them and seeing nothing but a black void made me appreciate even more the special training we had received in glacier-climbing. It was 7am on the dots: we had made it to the top of the southern slope of the Cotopaxi, Ecuador's second highest and still active volcano. 5860 meters above sea level, and all I could do was drop dead, exhausted by this supra-humane nocturnal effort.

Camera freeze at 5860m - summit reached!

I had always enjoyed hiking in the mountains. At high-school, two teachers used to organise ten-day sports-and-hiking camps in the Austrian Alps, which I joined several times. I hadn't been much in the mountains since, but it only felt natural for me to join a group of friends who wanted to climb the Cotopaxi three weeks into my fresh arrival in Ecuador. I thoroughly enjoyed that experience - although unsuccessful due to rather harsh weather conditions - but I also quickly realised that climbing at 5000 meters above sea level is a different cup of tea from hiking at 2000 meters.

Inspired by the ever-present mountains and volcanoes that I can see from my office on a clear day, and the unique páramo-ecosystem typical of the Andes in this part of the continent, I decided to continue the hiking and step it up to the next level. So I joined the Rocks meet ice climbing programme of Ruta Cero, a local agency that organises these kind of adventure trips. The goal was clear: get yourself prepared, both physically and technically, to reach the highest, snow-capped tops of Ecuador's awe-inspiring volcanoes. The remaining third part required to reach this objective - mental perseverance - was something you had to come up with yourself.

Although we started off with a huge group, only 18 of us made it to the first big challenge, the Cayambe volcano (5790m). There we got our final lesson of the programme, taught to us by Mother Nature herself: when the volcano doesn't let you to reach her summit, there's nothing you can do about it. Relentless stormy winds of up to 120km/h, gently carressing our faces with icy hail, and temperatures of 15 to 20 degrees below freezing devoured our energy levels in a whimp. At 300m below the summit, mildly hallucinating from exhaustion and the lack of oxygen, our team decided it was safer to head back to the refuge instead of continuing to fight a battle we could only loose. The Cayambe had thinned our ranks to a core group of 7 die-hards - three of whom women! - who would attempt to reach Cotopaxi's southern crown...

After a three-hour hike from the refuge, we set up our tents at base-camp, at 4700m. Fortunately it hadn't started snowing yet, so it was fairly easy to do so. Meanwhile, our guides started preparing dinner in the kitchen-tent. As we joined them to warm up with a cup of tea, the atmosphere couldn't have been better. We had known each other now for quite a few trips. These kind of extreme experiences - and, honesty abides, Halli Galli - had made us bond pretty well, so we had plenty of stories and banter to share. 

Base camp 

The crew in the kitchen-tent

Being at 4700m is no excuse not to keep up with your dental hygiene!

At 6pm it was time to hit the tents and try to get some rest, for we had to rise and shine at 11pm. The biggest challenge was to get dressed in that tiny tent - think of heavy skiing shoes with laces, three layers of clothing, a climbing harness and gaiters. After a quick breakfeast - let's be honest, your stomach doesn't hold much at that time of the night - and filling up our thermoses with hot water, we were set to go at 12:15am. It wasn't until the glacier began that we put on our crampons and formed teams of three (two lunatics and a guide), tied to each other with a rope. We generally took a rest every hour and a half or so, unless something unexpected happens, such as falling into glacier cracks - a trick I turned out be quite good at.

Time to get the crampons on

The toughest part was no doubt keeping up my energy levels - and along with them, morale. Some five hours into our ascent, I didn't have much energy left. I had been eating energy bars and sucking panela for some energy boosts, but after a while exhaustion becomes so omnipresent that whatever rest I got, I literally wanted to fall down and do nothing but rest. The thin air was not only affecting my ability to breathe normally, it also got me a headache (or was it from the exhaustion?) that pushed my morale down. At that point, it was just a matter of climbing step by step, relatively straight forward when on ice, but less so on snow, where every step you make turns into half a step you slide down.

Reaching the summit was just a momentary experience. It was clouded and everybody was pretty freezing, making it a matter of resting a bit, grabbing that camera to make a few shots (they came with a natural frost effect) and climbing down to a more sheltered part of the slope, so we could get a decent rest before rushing down (it took us just 2 hours and half to reach base camp). As the sky started opening up a bit, we got a sight on the vast plains surrounding the Cotopaxi and we could catch a glimpse of Ecuador's highest dome, the Chimborazo. Despite the majestic sights, all I could think of was my bed and how much I wanted to rid myself from that terrible headache. (Note to self: next time just ask your companions if they have a pill for that with them.)

Reaching the summit, on two or four feet (courtesy of Diego Villacres)

Back down at the lowest part of the glacier (courtesy of Diego Villacres)

The true, lasting experience from these adventures, however, has no doubt been the companionship of the whole group. I did not just reach the summit on my own, we had all made it together. At every moment there has been someone to lift up spirits, to share your agony or to grab your thermos out of your frosted backpack. The ultimate goal is not to reach the summit, for it doesn't tell much about how you got there. No, the true challenge is to make sure that your team stays safe while crossing mental and physical boundaries you had never imagined you would cross. The reward the mountain spirits offer you is the unique experience of sharing these life-altering moments with like-minded people. They make you forget all the hardship and suffering you experienced, making you long instead for the next summit to be shared.

(I know, I shamelessly breached my five-at-a-time rule. The experience largely exceeded my self-imposed space, and this way you got a better impression of it, I hope...)

Small thoughts that made me a happier person

A few weeks ago, I attended a Red Cross information session in a buddhist temple near Antwerp. It was the first time I'd been there, so I was paying close attention to our host's tour of the site. We ended in the praying/meditation hall for a last few words on what buddhism now actually entails and how people practise it. As I've had an interest in this life philosophy for quite a while, but never really gotten into the matter, I was curious to learn about the basics. One of the 'attitudes' to put into practice in your daily life, has struck me in particular, so here's me sharing this valuable insight with you!

One should not hold any grudge against anyone else for matters they are not responsible for. Or, put differently, before blaming a stranger for something, think again about why it is that you're cross with that person. You'll find that in most cases, there's no reason to feel angry with that person.

Pick your favourite one

At least, that's what I've experienced ever since. Long-legged as I am, I often felt bothered by streets or paths filled with slower walking people. But, then I realised, they're not blocking my way on purpose, they can't see me rushing from behind, so I can't blame them for not being able to see me. The same goes for getting mad at train personnel for a train that arrives late - they can't help it that there's a red sign in front of the train, they're just there to make sure you arrive safely at your destination. That's what you did, so be happy! And let's be honest, it certainly happens once in a while that I'm that slow walking person in your path, and I know, as a matter of fact, that it wasn't my intention to block your path!

If I then try to analyse why it is that I feel angry or upset, then I usually discover it's because I just couldn't bother leaving a bit earlier to make sure that I have sufficient time to make it to my destination; or that I am still dealing with some work issues completely unrelated to the person I was feeling upset about. Realising all this, has helped me tremendously in feeling happier in my everyday life. I feel a lot calmer and I have a more positive attitude towards the outside world. People feel this kind of energy. In fact, if more people would think this way, it'd be a lot nicer out there!

To complete this post to happiness, I leave you with another buddhist attitude I just recently discovered, but which I know will help me tons in being happier with life as it comes my way. If you can in any way contribute to the solution of a problem you're facing, then do so in every possible way you can; if not, then don't worry about it, because it is out of your control!

Set your water on fire

One thing is very clear to me: our 'developed' societies are not sustainable. The sheer demand of natural resources to keep our patterns of production and consumption going far outpaces our planet's capacity. Every year we set a new record in consuming the earth's resources "available" for that year's consumption (last year we did so already on August 19th). Understandably, then, the energy business is frantically looking for new sources or techniques to keep the machine running. We may have found a winner: shale gas. At least, that's what The Economist tells us when introducing its special report on natural gas:

If the boom persists gas may take coal’s place as the world’s second-favourite fuel in just a few decades, and millions will breathe easier as a result. This is because, even were it not cheap and plentiful, gas would be attractive simply on the grounds of cleanliness. It is true that there are questions about the harm that may be done by the “fracking” process that liberates shale gas; there is an urgent need for systematic before-and-after environmental audits. But once the gas is out of the ground, it is a great deal cleaner than coal. It does not distribute neurotoxic mercury around the planet; it does not clog city air and the lungs of those who breathe it with soot and sulphur. Gas is a boon to public health.

But, how clean is shale gas really? The Dutch programme Tegenlicht recently aired a superb documentary by Josh Fox on the very topic of shale gas and hydraulic fracturing (aka fracking): Gasland. Starting with a letter he received to lease his land to a shale gas company for the sum of 100,000 USD, Josh sets out on a journey to learn why his land is worth so much. Turns out, this 'boon to public health' is more of a bomb to the health of the people living nearby extraction sites. Honestly, if you can set your tap water on fire with a lighter, or if your animals start to loose their fur for no obvious reason, something's rotten in your back yard…



Also, the claim that shale gas is that much cleaner than coal, and that we will breathe easier, is not entirely true. During the fracking process, a lot of methane - a greenhouse gas 23 times more harmful than CO2 - is released into the air. The environmental impact of shale gas is at least 20% greater than that of coal when compared on a 20-year horizon, scientists of Cornell University have argued.

The last word about shale gas hasn't been said yet, that is clear. Yet, there is a smell about the whole fracking business - especially when insiders start comparing it to the infamous Enron corporate politics (see p.5 of documents leaked to the NYT). Interestingly, this boom in shale gas has attracted foreign investment. India's biggest firm, Reliance Industries, for example, is reported to have stakes in several projects in the US. So now it's the Indians who are messing up American's back yards, for a change...

Leave your comfort zone and learn!

When I had just embarked on my discovery of international politics (and whatnot), Kevin introduced me to The Economist. 'A must read, Tom, if you want to stay on top of things in this world. Sharp analyses, I'm telling you. My advice - subscribe, asap!' I still am, six years later. It's pretty addictive, I'll admit to that. It's just that they cover such a variety of issues from all over the globe, so reading your weekly issue feels like getting the hang of what's up in the world.

It's not until recently, however - say a year or so - that I started reading the whole issue, from cover to cover. Although the magazine is called 'The Economist', surprisingly most of its content is just reporting on world politics (with a strong economic focus, at times). But the 'Business' and 'Finance and Economics' sections had never appealed to me - too difficult when not having a clue about those topics, I thought. Turns out, they're quite readable even for an economy illiterate, and pretty damn interesting on top of that!

Amazing how much you can learn by expanding your horizon, going beyond what you already know, with what you already feel comfortable. So it is that I came across this very intriguing article in the 'Science and technology' section. Turns out there is this spider species in Central America, the Leucauge argyra, that has an interesting way of reproducing. Usually, the male spiders make plugs of mucus to seal the female's orifice after mating (other animals do it too, apparently). With this species, however, the female has been observed doing that to herself, for a very peculiar reason:

Spider sex is unusual in that males transfer their sperm to the female on small limbs called pedipalps. They use these to pick their sperm up from their genitals and insert it into the female’s sexual orifice, rather than copulating directly. […] On the 14 occasions [observed] a sexual plug was made, the female produced it without assistance from the male. On ten of these occasions the male’s pedipalps then seemed to get stuck while he was transferring the sperm (which is rarely the case in other species of spider), and he had great difficulty freeing himself. In two of those ten instances, he was eaten as a result. The two researchers conclude, therefore, that what was once a mechanism which allowed females to discriminate between males has evolved into a way of trapping them so that they can be consumed at leisure. Whether only high-quality males, whose sperm the female also wishes to keep, are affected is not yet clear—though eating such males may bring the bonus of denying their sperm to rivals. Whatever the details, for male Leucauge argyra this behaviour gives a new meaning to the term “unsafe sex”.

Yes, utter randomness. But that's why I like it! Often, my best ideas are inspired by other disciplines or areas of work. Not that I'm saying women should start plugging themselves with mucus for safe sex, but you never know which brilliant idea might arise from these unexpected articles or encounters. I'm not doing it enough myself, but: dare to leave your comfort zone and dig into terra incognita, you never know what you may come across…

If it weren't for the sugar cane liquor before, I'd never put this anaconda up my shoulders...

Europe's gone bananas (ctd)

The saga continues! Turns out, Belgium is not the only anomaly on the European continent when it comes to bananas… The BBC, always running the extra mile to inform us about the latest edge-cutting news, has a new scoop for this blog: Iceland is Europe's biggest banana producing country! Yes, you got that right - Iceland. Apparently the volcanic fumes coming out of the ground can be converted into energy and heat for the bananas to grow in greenhouses…

Ok, maybe Iceland is not Europe's biggest banana producing country. Certainly not if we're to believe the FAO - zero production. Now, that's not entirely true, they do grow bananas there. Just search for it on YouTube and you'll find a dozen or so informational videos on the topic. Yes, in Icelandic.

Is it such an odd idea, for people in Iceland to grow bananas? If you think of it, actually it is not. It might even be more sustainable than importing them from Ecuador or Costa Rica. You're using thermal energy, which would have gone lost otherwise. You don't have to exploit the local farmers for your products to stay competitive on the global markets. You don't have to ship them all across the globe.

So, if you live in Iceland, my advice would be: go for it! You might even want to export some to the rest of Europe, and beat Belgium as Europe's biggest banana exporter.

Belgium, where bananas thrive and monkeys go crazy

However tempting, this post is not about the political Spielerei in Belgium that, by now, cannot interest no one any longer but the odd political scientist [in Dutch] or rating agent. (For those of you who have just tuned in, Belgium has been without a newly elected government for over 400 days now…) Instead, I want to share with you the most surprising discovery I made today: ranked by value, Belgium is the world's second largest exporter of bananas. Wohow, slow down, say that again? Belgium? Exporting bananas?



Seriously, I'm not making this up. The FAO does. Ok, admittedly, by export quantity, Belgium only comes in sixth, after Ecuador, Costa Rica, the Philippines, Colombia and Guatemala. But still… Belgium? July has just been named the 'saddest' month of July in the past thirty years because the sun had taken so much time off for holidays.


A quick search on the wonderful world of the web revealed that a Belgian company called Leon Van Parijs is the European distribution hub for Alvaro Noboa, a 'great bad man' from Ecuador. And where else would they be headquartered but in Antwerp [in Dutch]? This family business has been importing and redistributing (tropical) fruits since the early 20th century and is currently the sole centre to spread the Bonita love all over Europe.


All of a sudden, I remembered that the WTO has a plethora of rules of origin to determine where a product comes from. The EU will most certainly also have its own set of regulations to top that. So, no doubt Leon Van Parijs mastered the art of ripening the Ecuadorian bananas in Belgium before redistributing them, therefore turning them 'Belgian'. Selling them ten times more expensive than their original export price, then, squares the circle [in Dutch].


Lest we would start worrying about the implications on the farmers in Ecuador of these profit driven multinational enterprises, I'll leave you with another fun fact of the day to make you go bananas. India tops by far and large the rankings of banana producing countries with over 27% of total world production, yet manages to export only 30,402 of the 26,996,600 tons it produces. Watch your step, then, next time you're in India: that makes for 224,380,316,312 peels to slip on!