The maori mexican flying kiwi unda down unda.

My most sincere apologies amiguitas y amiguitos, as I have not written in these pages for a long time. Do you know that feeling when simply you think you have so much to do/think/procrastinate and leave that simple task you wanted to do and realized that you thought of something in 2007 and it is already 2017? Well, you might call it lack of inspiration, motivation, time, even excuses or that actually your mind has gone somewhere else. Well in my case? I just couldn’t find or better say didn’t feel the proper time to actually sit my ass down and write. But oh how unfortunate you are now, as this feeling has arrived and my now again cute ass is ready to be seated again.

The land down unda’ a land down unda’. A place where it is possible to breathe the freshest and cleanest air of the planet and even buy it on the duty free zone at the airport to give as Xmas present. The magical land of the ultimate adventures, badass war tattoos and war cries, a hilarious English accent, rugby on every corner and #gandalf.

Yes. New Zealand. ***makes Haka noises***

-The bloody hell were you doing there mate?- you might ask. Trust me when I say I was as surprised as you when I discovered that 0.4% of my genes are originally from Oceania which of course includes NZ***finishes the Haka***. To be sincere, I have always been curious about this faaar far away part of the world; as mentioned above, it just sounded like a too good to be true place. I recall a TV commercial in the 90’s where a lad was being dropped down from a chopper into a mountain, started skiing, passed cool caves, finished on what seemed to be a jungle, changed his outfit to a swimming suit, and then caught up with a lady in bikini, grabbed a board and started surfing. I mean how fucking cool does that sounds? And of course, #gandalf. So I was more than ready to snowboard and surf and potentially meet my NZ lover as I would yell to demons “YOU SHALL NOT PAAAASS!”. All in one day.  Hell yeah.

As this didn’t sound incredible enough, life gave me a marvelous and hilarious kiwi friend, someone I could basically say is like the sister I always wanted and never had, including the part where we can both deal with complex unsteady aerodynamics problems, fail miserably, still make the engine work properly, drink Gin like actual beasts and dream everyday to explore and conquer the world. Universally known as “Jenbla”, I had the great honor of being hosted by herself and her family where for about two weeks, we did a brilliant road trip all across from Christchurch down to Wanaka, Queenstown, to the west coast and the back to CH. You want a real advice for your next trip? Hang out with the locals, there is truly no way to know the culture of a place than with them. It is not only because they live there, it is also because when there’s a foreigner on the game, locals also discover their country. It is an actual win/win scenario.

NZ didn’t disappoint me as there is a huge Gimli stone statue right on the airport of Auckland. What a way to start I must say. So yeah, after spending a fantastic weekend in Buenos Aires, Argentina with another of my dearest lads (gracias #che! volveré hermano!), after 18 hrs, there was I, landing in Christchurch, ready to see kiwis, penguins, climb, hike, snowboard, surf and dance the Haka as soon as Jenbla came to scene. Literally, after 25 minutes of landing we were already hiking the closest hill haha. Had then a cultural day as I wanted to know a bit more of the culture of the country so we visited the natural history museum, got staggered by the maori culture and heritage, the importance to the people about it and well, I just love museums.

I must say that NZ is sooo fucking expensive haha. Beers, clothes, fun activities, gasoline, transport, food. Everything is expensive but absolutely fucking worth it. The best way to travel around the islands is to rent your own car or camper van and then up to the road as it goes. Asking for rides on the roadway might also work, just consider you could freeze to death after 8 PM during winter. Great extreme sport though. Despite making sure you have enough money, people’s mega friendly, chilled, relax. Have you seen Thor 3? The bloke made out of blue rocks? There you go, that’s a true NZ spirit right there. So what you waitin’ broh? Wanna come?

So off we were from CH to Wanaka! a small gathering point village where it is possible to do kayak, snow sports, helicopter/plane rides, hiking/trekking/climbing on hills, mountains and glaciers, Mt. Iron, Roy’s peak and Rob Roy’s glacier are just some examples of those; you want mighty thunder thighs? You want to climb, not feel your legs because of pain, sweat at minus degrees and still look at a beautiful scenery? This is the place to go. And of course a zillion amount of lakes and sheep. Sheep every-fucking-where. Not to mention that when I got the wheels, as you drive on the right side of the vehicle, I almost got ourselves killed but nothing to worry about, besides Jenbla’s panic attack, my extreme crazy cat reflexes saved us and got us on time for dinner. Simply brilliant, I really loved it.

Down to Queenstown, where is like everything I just mentioned, times 462. The world’s adventures capital some might even say, and trust me they might not be that far away from the truth. The town is beautiful, quite fancy, still expensive, but Jenbla and I were there to become legends,  to transcend in time and space on stories yet to be written and spoken among our family members and the people of this planet. To become one with the motion of particles and scream so loud we could open interdimensional portals. We became bungy jumpers. 134 meters of insane fun, 8.6 seconds of free falling and free red crying eyes after the jump. We went to risk our lives, jump into the void, feel free, get very close to what is a heart attack, and paid a lot of money for it. Absolutely brilliant. Of course, on a Skype session my mom wanted to kill me as soon as she saw the jump video LOL. #mexicanmomlove

To Punakaki in the west coast we went! And shit I was just amazed how the weather and the vegetation could change sooo much from side to side of the island. We drove a significant amount of hours that day, but it never got tired you know? The great music, the mountains and trees and the very cute Kias. (2nd official bird of NZ). We wanted to be on time to see the clashing of the sea waves to what are called the Pancake rocks. It was unfortunately too dark already and it was quite rainy (apparently always rains on the west coast) but life was benevolent and we had a nice and sunny morning the next day, so after exploring caves and almost dying either by falling off the rocks or getting swallowed by the crazy sea, we saw an amazing show performed by nature and enjoyed our ride back to the east coast.

 

On the way back, we went to a place called “Castle Rock”. Recall the scene on the 1st lord of the rings movie when the hobbitsesss hide with Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn under some crazy stones because a shitload amount of crazy crows from Saruman and a Nazgul are flying to hunt down Frodo and make him fall like a bitch? Well that place exactly is where I found myself screaming “MR. FRODOOO!” on the top of one of the rocks as an asian family would stare at me like “UGH these fucking tourists”. At the same time, Jenbla was running all around, hiding in holes like a rabbit and climbing the other rocks. Truly like brother and sister.

Naturally a trip in NZ is not complete until you’ve done a mountain bike ride after fucking climbing zillion mountains and being crazy sour or until you’ve swum on a basically frozen lake, surrounded by only snow, just because it is not fun until you’ve done it and didn’t die. #crazykiwis

I never had so many nature adventures and even better, never shared it with someone who is crazier than me and I feel blessed with life for this. I got thunder thighs and was able the completely cleanse my “smoking years” lungs breathing such clean air at the top of the mountains. Even when I didn’t see any penguins, nor kiwis, didn’t snowboard, nor surfed, nor met my ultimate NZ lover in bikini, I was able to live a true kiwi life experience as I had the chance of doing and living fucking cool adventures across mountains, lakes and sea. Lived as another member of an awesome kiwi family, felt welcomed by all the great people I met there and felt ridiculously happy with life, as I get to be the friend of someone like Jenbla. And I got to yell “YOUUU SHALL NOT PAAAASS!”

You feeling adventurous and with a pinch of adrenaline running through your veins? You feel you cannot breather under this EWWW disgusting quality of air of the town you’re living in? You tired of the routine and feel like a crazy adventure should make you feel alive again? You feeling like being totally away from everyone you know and surrounded by only chilled and cooled people that will say “Don’t you worry my dear!” every single time? You also feel like you have a shitload of money to spend only to get to this island? Well I feel all that, but only feel it, because my account balance is basically on negative numbers, but the feeling is so strong that not only I recommend all of you to fly right now to NZ, I definitely will be back.

You want me to describe New Zealand in one sentence? Well I think there is one:

“Yeah, nah, it’s epic bro!”

Tēnā koe, a hupane!

 

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The 28th Anniversary of the International Malted Wild Tiger

28 years ago an 8 months Mexican baby was struggling between life and death as an abnormal heart beating manifested and required an urgent and immediate extraction procedure to live. A soul that wanted to get out right away, that couldn’t take it anymore and just wanted freedom without giving a fuck about any consequences. A bold and unbeatable essence that remains up today. Causing high levels of stress and breaking the ladies heart with a charming smile since 1989.

28 years. Fuck mate. Where has all this time gone?! 2 years ago I was in Mexico celebrating getting accepted into the program I’m about to finish now and having a relationship proposal of the ex-significant other (miss you “J”), last year I was enjoying my favorite whisky with a bastard who has become one of my best comrades in lovely Sweden. Cheers bro “M”. Today I am in Greece writing code for my thesis, drinking wine and eating cake and looking at my bracelet present from the current and lovely flat mates. You bloody rock “K” and “D”! 10 years ago I was completely excited to obtain my officially grown up ID known as IFE in the home land. That magical piece of plastic that would open the gates to every adult entertainment media and liquids. The evidence of being a young adult, with 17 facial hairs ready to conquer the world, study a career and think that 10 years later I would be the manager in a nice job, have a family, a lovely wife, a Porsche, the pets, the money, be part of the system and say a happy good bye. Mate it sounded so good back then LOL.

Isn’t it just bizarre and amazing how the years can just blow your mind and take you to paths you literally never thought you would be walking in? Thinking: – how the fuck did I think of that?- And smile about it!?

Well chiquillas y chiquillos, for those of you who know me you could tell how cocky egocentric piece of jerk scumbag I am or can be. But when it comes to my birthday, for me it is a day where I actually sit down and evaluate everything that has happened during this year. How?. Why?. Why not?. A day where I judge, assess and analyze in a cold way the overall performance of myself with no excuses. So…to be fair? there are not enough words to fucking thank life for everything that I received during this year. I had very very BLOODY FUCKING terrible and dark moments yes. Instants where I literally thought I was entirely broken, sunk in darkness and thought I was not going to be able to stand up and keep walking. Several winks where shit, they felt like a K.O. just one after another and another and another. A year well I truly put myself to test, where I just had to force myself to go beyond any limit I though I had, academically, physically, mentally, internally.

This is where the cocky part plays the game because to be honest? karma paid off to this lucky bastard and among some stuff, I was able to be present in my brother’s wedding, I passed the most difficult and annoying test I’ve ever written, I managed to stay in this program until the end, I’ve learned so much engineering shit, I’ve eaten incredible and exotic food, traveled with my another brother, received the unique chance of traveling around the world and seen the most incredible stars of the planet, walked through ancient wanders of the world, met absolutely amazing people from all over the world…but to be honest? I’ve learned…to truly connect with my planet and with my people. One day someone from Moldavia (“O”) told me just after 20 minutes of knowing each other: -I think success is not how much money you have, how many girls you’ve slept with, not even how many countries you’ve visited…yes, self love is vital but I also think it is about how people feel when they’re around you…if they’re happy and smiling because of you? Maybe you’re doing a good job! :)- I was speechless, I just couldn’t say any word. And no, it is not that I’m saying that everybody around me feels aroused by all the stupid funny random bullshit I use to say everyday or that I’m trying to achieve that; it is not that I know plenty of people or anything stupid like it; it is the fact that life is giving me the chance of truly connecting with people, of truly leaving a mark and make an actual difference, and that maybe just maybe it might be working.

But is it then always happiness and optimism and positive mentality and fucking fat cats and fat unicorns with cute pandas flying in my mind? Unfortunately or fortunately not.

Academically speaking? This last year I’ve been in a situation where after being either number 1 or at least top 3? I was just not even close to be in first half. Studying things I first saw as glyphs, dealing with engineering shit I literally thought I would never deal with. I felt like a piece of useless junk unable to solve anything. Failed tests. Incapable of finding the correct or even the enough motivation to study and advance as I thought I knew surrounded by totally brilliant people who knew (or seemed like) how to deal with this shit. People who became close to me and told me at certain points: -you can quit if you want, but you’d be a complete stupid if you do that because you have the brain and the guts to complete this. No excuses- A summer internship where I learned so much and got so frustrated with no significant results because of stupid reasons and thought again it was my lack of competence. A change to an entirely new country, new system, new rules, new people. A year full of changes, of challenges, of obstacles, of fire rings. And hell a year where I was lucky enough to have the correct people around me, to open my eyes in vital moments and was able to overcome most of those intense instants. But thesis is here, so this has just started.

Emotionally speaking? What a fucking roller coaster. My biggest dream of traveling around the world achieved? Come on, I sometimes still find it difficult to believe it until I see the pictures of the countries I’ve been to already. I’m lucky to have met complete strangers that changed completely my way of thinking and my way of living my life in a matter of minutes. People who I think made me a better human being. 21 new countries in my list. Probably around 100 cities if I put all my life together. Festivals including Foo Fighters and Tomorrowland. Wanders of the world and many many many flying hours. No complains at all on the adventurous and wild side.

But what about love? It still really amazes me how this chemical reaction in the brain can cause such powerful belief and make you go crazy. But it seems like a curse you know? Every single time I seem to find some peace ka-FUCKING-boom, something ridiculous and unfortunate happens that it just ends it. Sex is not the issue, I’m someone who stopped counting after 15. But love love like actual love is still something quite not well understood for me or at least either I’m too stupid and naive or it seems I still haven’t managed to know how to react to love these days. I’ve been the bad boy, the good boy, the rockstar, the nerd. Today I’m just fucking myself and I don’t give a shit on anything else, I’m authentic, smart and smiley as it can gets. But it is still apparently not enough. From not being capable to go for the ones who like me and appreciate me because I’m simply too stupid, to falling for exactly those who have a sign on their foreheads that say: “trouble”, “I don’t like short men”, “I’m in a relationship”, “I really like you but I won’t do it cuz I don’t know why”. And shit like that. A year where I got my ego somewhat fissured when a significant-crush denied to travel around the world because #fucklogics.

A year where love knocked the door. I’ve had the chance of hanging out and finish up in mutual amusement with incredibly attractive and very interesting girls. Specially one with whom I madly and unexpectedly fell in love with in fucking matter of some weeks because #yolo. I guess what they say about “when it happens, happens” is true. In my naive and obnoxious defense my core felt as I finally found someone with whom I could talk and laugh with random shit until 4 am, talk about smart engineering; someone who expressed her wishes of conquering the world, of going out, of accomplishing dreams and who seemed as crazy and ambitious as myself in similar ways. Someone with whom at the beginning everything looked just like a bad timing situation but in the end it was as real as my lack of beard, but apparently not as strong as I thought, and finished up sunk with me rejected in alcohol and tears for several days without being able to understand the universe. I should have read the signs like the ones aforementioned, but life is like that. Somedays you’re flying and some others you’re crawling. But no failure, no regret at all, it’s another stripe to the tiger. Only a big lesson learned, a drawer for the good moments lived and a new procedure for heart healing preparing it for the next, hopefully not, catastrophe. And to you who wished happiness and success? No need, but I’m truly grateful with you for making me feel such strong and marvelous thing. I keep my position of yourself being as one of the most incredible aspects of my life. I truly hope one day you let yourself understand that no matter how, or why, even when life is entirely weird? My eyes were real, your eyes were real.

For disclosure, this has probably been the most fluctuating year of my entire life, with emotional stuff being the Oscar award winner. And I bloody love it’s like that. It’s intense, it’s unpredictable, it’s crazy. During the last month I have met an insane amount of people from all over the globe. Interesting, insane and some might even as bold as me or more. These 28 years start and promise to be even a greater year than the previous one and I can’t just bloody wait for it.

I am more grateful than ever with my life, literally there are no words to thank enough, other than waking up everyday, look up to the sky, no matter if it’s a sad day, a happy day, an angry day, a bright day, a dark day. It’s for something good and it will always get better; it’s a matter of wanting freedom, of living the present, of wanting to live and not giving a fuck about consequences (sometimes at least) just like 28 years ago. I might be an annoying complainer of emotional things who forgives but who never forgets. Working on that. I could also be an eternal dreamer, a wanderer, a crazy mother fucker living it up. I wish life give me more years to continue living that way.

So to all the magical and far away places that welcomed me with arms wide open, to every fucking equation, simulation, exam and project and specially to literally all the people who went through my life this year who support me and who stand my annoying and obnoxious being. To the new friends, new family members and to the yet to be discovered corners of the world; to the amazing momondo team!; to life and to the universe:

Gracias, gracias por todo, gracias por tanto, gracias por esto.

Wanna conquer the world? Follow me, let’s do it together.

The italo-messicano bergamasca bloodline

Do you remember what it felt like when being a kid and entered to your favorite toy store? or a candy/ice cream/video games store? or going to the concert of your favorite band? or entering a selected whisky or wine store as the alcoholic I am? Most of the times, it becomes an unexpected and amazing surprise in those cases, and such feeling is what I got as soon as I landed in Bergamo.

Bergamo is a medieval city located at the northern part of Italy, 52.2 km from Milan, right in the middle of the mountains, and distributed with an old town at the upper part of a mountain, and the downtown all around the mountain. As any medieval place, there are huge fortress walls that used to protect the city from thieves and war. Specifically, from the Venetian army and the Cyprus war. A lot of gardens, vineyards, and mountains surround the city. The chilly fall mornings and afternoons, plus the red leafs, the stone roads, the huge stone arcs and the red roofs, make my arrival to the city, a magical and astonishing one.

“Oh mio dio!” said the taxi driver as he found out why I came to Bergamo in the first place. A fat, big, with a lot a beard and a fantastic laugh italian sir, that immediately started to ask me what I knew and gave me advices of where can I search/ask/go. “Ciao italo-messicano, benvenuto a Bergamo!” he says as he lefts me in the door of the hostel.

The next day, a chilly and cloudy, yet fresh and nice morning wakes me up, and I found myself walking to the “Archivio di Stato di Bergamo” to ask the whereabouts of my bergamasca ancestors.

A lovely ma’m is at the reception lobby and welcomes me with a cute smile and blushed make-up cheeks. Her name is “Maria Gracia” and as I remembered all my italian, courtesy of “L” and of “Enzo Gorlomi” I explained my story and she becomes very curious and interested in what I’m looking for. I ask her: what is your favorite thing of Bergamo? and she responds: “Everything!” She tells that she travelled a lot when she was young and wild, that she was very curious about traveling around the world, about meeting new people, but specially to have memories to share some day. I do ask her: “do you think if we all were optimistic, the world could be a better place?” to what she responds: “are you a Jehova witness or something? you’re just too optimistic to be normal, and they asked me the same question you just did. You won’t convince me to join you!” while laughing, to what I laughed very loud too, I said that “holy water” makes my skin burn instantaneously, more laughs, and in the end, she just stated that traveling indeed makes people better human beings, and that going back home in peace is the most important thing in this life.

It surprises me very much, that one of the managers explains that someone, at some point in the past, went already there to search the origin of “Maqueo”. The research is however unsuccessful and they actually said that “Maccheo” does NOT exist. (Imagine a scene of me screaming in my knees NOOO! dramatically). They explain that they have records only after 1822 and that anything before that is extremely difficult to find, or at least I would require way more info than what I had, which was not much. They also confirm that surnames like “Maceo”, “Macchio” and “Machio” might exist but are definitely NOT from Bergamo; however “Macchi” and “Maccali” pop up and gave me some hope. They advise me to go to the cathedral and ask for the “Archivio Diocesano” and search for these names. If they were born and baptized in Bergamo, they would have it there, so off I went to the “Citta’ Alta” or upper town, right in the heart of Bergamo, as I ate an insanely orgasmic tasty ice cream of strawberry and figues and something else.

After walking for about 30 min, taking the “funiculare” and being totally speechless by how beautiful this place is, I arrived to the clerical archives and ask the lady in charge. They make the search and find that indeed, they were not registered there, they say that there are “Maccali” records in Milano, but “Macchi” might be in any neighbor villages of Bergamo. Basically, impossible to know, at least just in a couple of days. So I feel dissapointed but somewhat excited, and decide to make another research on my own in the internet and also to ask my family. I needed more.

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Il duomo di Bergamo

Then, I found a mexican book that clearly says that two brothers called Julián and Esteban Maqueo, originally Giuliani and Stefano, from Italy, arrived to Mexico in 1830 to Oaxaca, both from the Garibaldi army, still wearing the uniform and the belt with the golden spread wings eagle and stay there to work as merchants. It also says that Stefano was known as “the traveler”. It was still before 3:00 pm, which is when the state archive office closed and off I went there, to ask for any military records of that time. As I arrived, the reception lady and the managers smile and say “how did it go??”. I explain everything, and they sadly state that they only have military records after 1870. However, they tell that the “Museo Storico di Bergamo” has a lot of information regarding participants, people, places, maps, of the garibaldini army and movement, so they might be able to help. A tiny beam of light is in my head again, to what I decide I’ll give it a shot saturday morning.

I am starving and aim for a local cuisine place, to what I ate the famous “Polenta” which is a typical bread of this area and “Casoncelli” which are similar to the ravioli but these are filled with chopped bacon and have butter. A lot of butter. Plus wine of the house and another delicious gelato. I keep walking and falling in love with the city, until I find a local bar at the eastern part of the town, in which I decide to sit down, drink a beer, and start writing in my journal. After an hour, the place becomes packed and I start wondering what is this place. And then, surrounded entirely by italians, I find myself talking with the guys beside me, absolutely nice and cool, they get surprised that I only came to Bergamo to discover my roots, they get happy by the fact that I’m a Bergamasco, they say that I speak very good italian and invite me a beer. Two beers. Three beers. Wine. More wine. Pizza. A lot of pizza. I met A BUNCH of people. All of them welcoming me as if I was another italian of the group.

One of them, called Edoardo Bovati, the typical handsome italian guy you would see in a magazine, both by looks and by personality. An absolutely nice and funny mate that speaks spanish too and I decide to ask him about his life, his experiences, his dreams, his expectations. Born in Milan but grew up in Bergamo, he says that he started traveling when he was 3 years old to the caribbean islands and he remembers so vague details. His first plane he took alone was by the age of 10, to visit relatives in England, and he stated that when being an adult, he first traveled because he felt just bored. Today he assures that he travels because you can learn something new every single day. After wandering around Asia and South America and North America, he says that xmas means Paris, New York or Bergamo, but no favorite city arises. Making the world a better place, means to make environmental consciousness and educate the people better in that way.

As the wine and beer ran off and the weather went down, I walked back to the hostel and pray that the hang over at the next day would allow me to wake up early-ish and to have a bearable headache.

And of course, the prays were useless, and I was struggling my way up by one of the stone stairs at the eastern side of the city and went directly to the Museo Storico. Sad was my reaction to know that indeed the museum was open, but the offices were closed (that’s why they gave me an appointment for monday) but the guy in charge said the Dr. was aware of my case. Again with my best “Antonio Margareteee” version I explained my story and the guy got quite excited and curious about it. It was very interesting to know that there was a group of the Garibaldi army that was sent to Mexico back to 1829-1830, to deal with some loose issues of the mexican independence, the exact date my ancestors claimed to arrive to aztec lands. My eyes got wide open, the headache disappeared and my heart started beating faster. He says that the research needs indeed to be done, and gives me the e-mail address of the doctor in charge and the website. E-mail that I will send tonight. “In bocca al lupo!” he says. “Crepi il lupo!” I respond (thanks again “L”) and he assents and smiles back.

And I spent the rest of the day wandering around the walls, the streets, the secret passages, the gardens, the stone roads. To be quite sincere with you, I have always had a difficult time to define a place as “home”. For me, home is where my parents and my memories are, it is where I have my family, as I would assume most of us do. But it is also a place where I can be totally in peace, and that is the difficult part to achieve, at least in a constant way. These almost 3 days, I honestly experienced quite a lot of deep emotions in this place. Happiness, excitement, anxiousness, frustration, re-happiness, the fact of being totally stunned by the culture, the people, the lovely italian ragazzi, the strawberry and ricotta gelato, the music, the language, even an unusual yet awesome instant crush/love moment that I will write in another time. As “Maria Gracia” said: Everything!.

So right now, being at the “Piazza Vecchia” or old square, right in the heart of Bergamo, I listen to the bells ringing and also to classical music played with loud speakers all over the place. I do dream and think if both my great great great great grandfather walked and wandered around these walls and I just smile. Despite being by myself, I am embedded by a magical italian atmosphere. I do not feel like a stranger. After a long long long time, I feel peace inside me. I feel very happy.

I feel in home.

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The THRUSTers

My beloved lectores, first of all, I missed you like a crazy wild naked man who enjoys being in the middle of the forest. My apologies for not typing anything during the last 3 months as I found myself going bloody nuts studying for (so far) the hardest 2 final exams I’ve ever done. There is no better feeling than going out of the last exam, look at the sky and listen to the voice of Ben Wallace screaming “LIBERTAAAD” (it sounds better in spanish sorry) in the head. A temporary study-free man. Hell yes.

But to business.

As some of you might already know, I am studying an engineering master program in turbomachinery and aeromechanics whose acronym is THRUST.

The NASA guys describe thrust as a mechanical force, such that the propulsion system is in physical contact with a working fluid in order to produce it. For instance, it is the force that moves an aircraft through the air as the engine does work, accelerates the gas, and thrust is generated in opposite direction from the accelerated gas, nowadays this is done with turbomachines. In other words, thrust is the force that makes you move forward and brake the fucking space time sound barrier in a plane so as to save the 8th dimension from Boromir and yes. Science.

The magic of the program (at least for me) is not the academics part itself. Yes, it is very interesting to learn a lot about turbomachinery and how you can generate such huge amount of power to provide electricity, thrust in an aircraft, power in a gas turbine, high compression-ratios to internal combustion engines, bla bla bla, and of course to benefit people and the world and feed the wallet of the bastards who run a business related with all these. But where is the magic then? The people. Yes. The people.

Since the beginning of my days in school, I have always been one of those guys who are among the top 3, who didn’t need to study more than a couple of hours for a “tough” test, who got asked by the others how to do this and that. I was always used to being the brainy egocentric prick guy who just would achieve a very good grade plus being popular enough to enjoy life and get wasted on a weekend basis. And for such a naive mind who had a bit of working aviation experience and was about to cross the atlantic for the 2nd time and start a master program, well…I thought “this will be hard, but not that hard” as I have thought for basically all the previous years.

Oh bloody hell was I mistaken.

The very first lecture we had, 5 minutes went by, and shit, my mind thought “what the actual fuck is this guy talking about”. Then I said to me to relax, it’s the 1st day, it’s a matter of reading the material and catch up on the rusty academical field. But then I realized that the other 10 who also study with me, actually understood most of what the professor said. Hollow and hopeless. That’s exactly how I felt.

You might think “you’re such an exaggerating nerd person ” but hey, despite my empire-state size ego, I have always being hard and demanding enough with myself when it comes to achieve what I want.

The months went by and time did not prove me wrong. I was NOT the smartest guy in the classroom. Nor in the top 3. Not even close. A huge life change game who made me re-evaluate the entire situation of what I was doing, why, where, with what people I was dealing with, and the golden questions: am I good enough for this? Am I really that smart ass I have always thought I was? I honestly felt I didn’t know who I was anymore and thus, didn’t know how to address this problem. I had to overcome it, I had to push the re-boot button and start from zero again. I had to re-define myself.

And then, as the months kept going by, the relationships and friendship with the people of the program increased in a very good way. I was learning from them. Instead of losing myself directly into an infinite singularity vortex, I admired these people, the way they studied, the way the focused, the way they even helped me to be better at what I was doing, to aim for a better result, for success. Everyday.

So now I will talk of each country of them as if I was speaking from them, not to judge, not to criticize, but to actually thank them for everything they did directly and indirectly that made me not only to jump high, but for the first time to feel that I was being thrusted forward by a huge power engine.

Ireland: The very first time I talked to him by whatsapp before arriving to Sweden, I instantly thought “what a fucking prick”. LOL. I was basically sure we wouldn’t get along the entire year we would be studying together. Yet again, I was so mistaken. A fucking smart ass person. The first time we went to a trip together was to Estonia in a fun hell drinking karaoke wasted cruise trip. And it was just brilliant. I spent a couple of days in Ireland with his family in December, an unforgettable trip to the arctic circle, an incredible mountain hiking weekend in Germany, plus many parties and aeroelasticity and turbomachinery problems. This person reminded me the very high importance of being a good person with everyone. One could be egocentric and would love to show off to others the smartness, but that is not a reason to make less of the others, nor to walk around threatening people and miss-trusting as if everyone is the enemy, as I did. I lived shit high adrenaline moments while hiking and exploring with this guy, which expanded a lot my vision of life. Life is to enjoy and to live, nothing less. A chronicle of our rise to power brother!!

New Zealand: My upcoming roommate in the 2nd year greek adventure. I certainly didn’t have the chance of knowing deeply this person, but I can say that there is no one I know who is nicer with people. I am a very optimistic and smiley person, but New Zealand? She always tried to put the good chick even when going through very very very sad shit. Smart as hell, yet very relaxed and confident somehow that life would just provide. A person who would help me to solve an equation, a life problem or just listen or read my shit issues gladly. Someone who has a looot to give and wouldn’t care of taking anything from you. Also, adventurous and crazy in such a way that with a broken ankle injury, would go and hike into Norway and the  swedish arctic circle because…well…because it just sounds bloody amazing. Can’t wait to climb the olympus together.

Spain: Oh boy this will be hard. I will be talking in plural now. One of them is I would say the smartest person I’ve ever met in my life. The most emotionally intense and with such a temper as well. Easy to get along with, very difficult to maintain it in that way. Ups? Our ways of looking at life and of course the previous experiences I think made us to be somewhat a bit distant from each other after certain point of the year. Nevertheless, a person who would help you literally as much as it can get and ensure that you’re doing ok. Someone who would listen and hug you whenever you need. Different frequencies, but we had crazy and very interesting moments didn’t we?

The other one is also one of the most unexpectedly fucking smart shit persons I know. I say this only because of the background we have in terms of our academic careers. He is just one of the most determined persons I know; if he wants it, he will do everything he can to get it, no matter what. He knows how to perfectly separate what is important and what is not. The biggest “Real Madrid” fan I know. The biggest defender of Spain itself I know. “Toca pelear chaval”. I will never forget him saying those words the day we wrote the advanced finite element final after he got freaking hammered the day before because his football team won the Champions League. And he bloody passed. Trips, parties, homework and aerodynamics suffering. I will always be thankful for this friendship and hope he learns the proper and correct spanish (mexican of course). Te veo en la graduación hermano, rómpela siempre!

Germany/Russia: This person is just amazing. It just staggered me everyday how smart he is. The way he addresses any problem, the way he focuses, the way he would study for a test and the way he would drink vodka in one night. Someone who I’m sure will really make a big difference in terms of engineering and technology research, I’m almost sure I will be asking him for a job at some point of my life. I remember being intimidated when asking him a question of the homework just because I didn’t want him to think I was stupid. A person who really cares for the ones closer to him. Delicious russian food, trips and freaking amazing parties in Germany and in Sweden are just a tiny part of the shared memories. Thank you for showing me the kindness and love brother, I do not wish you luck because you don’t need it at all. Na zdorovie tovarishch, spasibo za vse!!

Pakistan: This guy was like the good and nice but not crazy uncle of the family. A very very very smart person who would gladly help you and ensure that you freaking understand every single detail of what he tries to explain. Like the perfect professor. I really enjoyed that he was always laughing and singing pakistani songs. It put me in a very good mood. Deadly moves while playing table tennis. A legend. His wife cooks the best pakistani food I’ve ever tasted, plus, a tupperware of 1.5 L with pakistani food was given to me just because they enjoyed that I liked it. I certainly look forward to share more cool moments with you my friend. Opa!

India: The biggest troop of the group. The curry bringers. The indian beatles. It is actually somewhat funny and weird how indians behave. Most of the indians (if you have had the chance of knowing indians) are actually very calmed and even introverted. They would smile, they would talk with you and smile but they would almost never go out to the parties or clubs or whatever. It’s not that common. Equally, a common indian would really smell like curry all around. But these lads wouldn’t at all (which for me was just perfect). So when (at least 1 of them) you see an indian trying to learn salsa with 5 beers and half up the head and saying “this is awesome”, well, it’s just pure magic. I certainly always had a very decent and nice relationship with these lads. The food they brought to school was always fantastic. One of them drunk crazy mother fucker will be actually my roommate too. All these guys are really smart too and have a big heart. I do wish them all the best to the different destinations they go.

Mexico: The truth is that I did not write a blog about this earlier because I really didn’t feel I quite belong to the group in terms of, I’m just not smart enough; so I really told me that I had to face this challenge and prove them and specially prove myself that I’m capable of this stuff, that there is a 200,000 rpm running squirrel in my head that can actually make me be smart enough to say that I am indeed a THRUSTer. And this time, time proved me right. After finishing the 1st year with a lot of struggle and studying the entire summer to do these last 2 fucking hard as shit final exams and feel that thing that makes you say “You fucking did it” it’s just priceless. But I certainly wasn’t able to do this alone; at some point I even thought of quitting but my family and closer friends were always supporting me from father Mexico, but the fact that the ones I consider the closer ones within the THRUSTers, would say to me “dude you’re not stupid, if you quit you will regret it, you can do this and you will do this because you’re a smart guy”, damn…I do think that all that is, what really brought me to the main message I want to give with this post:

In moments when you feel you cannot do it, in those times when you think you’re done, in those eternal hours when it looks like nothing could be worse for you?…Believe in yourself; look yourself into the mirror, right into the eye, and believe. Trust in yourself. Work hard, do, BUT REALLY, do what you know it’s required to do so as to achieve your goals. It will be hard, sometimes painful and exhausting. It will take more than everything you got, but do NOT give up and LISTEN to the people close to you. Sometimes you might think you’re alone, but you’re not. And then ask yourself: What the fuck are you waiting for? don’t be lame and common and go and grab accomplish what you want. Do NOT let anyone nor anything to stop you.

Thank you my dear THRUSTers for teaching me, for supporting me, for standing me, for being there, you know I wish you all love and good vibes directly from my heart. I’ve never felt so confident of what I can do, of who I am, of what I need to do to be better, but I know there is a lot to be done. I just hope that someday I can re-pay you all you did for me and also to be able of inspiring people around me and share everything I’ve learned from you.

De corazón, muchas gracias a todos!!

“If you live long enough, you’ll make mistakes. But if you learn from them, you’ll be a better person. It’s how you handle adversity, not how it affects you. The main thing is never quit, never quit, never quit”

William J. Clinton