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Armi Katariina Kauppila

Armi is passionate about theater, particularly as a means of social and political change, and about literature and different languages and cultures. She is involved in her local church as an assistant instructor for youth religious camps, working in her family's farm and in various theatrical projects targeted mainly to practice non-verbal communication and learning. Her main goals for the year are to expand her global perspective as a part of the process of finding her own role in contributing to positive change, to make friends in her local community and to learn a new language. Armi is greatly inspired by the nature and the beautiful countryside environment in her home.

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Wednesday hope

June 8, 2016

April 20th. I feel obliged to publish some kind of a reflection now that I'm back "home" again. I feel obliged to make an effort to describe why Senegal, this sort-of-random country that first felt so foreign to me eventually made me sob on the floor of the airport departure hall after bag-drop, repeating again...

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Why I’m a child and not a bride

March 19, 2016

Integration, honestly. It’s a mix of celebration for the little wins and the feeling that this whole thing is a one big lie. A lie because for six desperate months I’ve been trying to become a part of something I cannot possible be a part of. The family, the village, the culture, anything. But suddenly,...

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This is what comfort feels like

February 14, 2016

I lean on my finger placed at the bottom corner of the front seat window. So I stand, looking around myself at the busy car station in MBour. Looking around, but not with surprise. With affection mixed with a little bit of boredom. I have gotten used to this. I see all the vendors, but...

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Anta

January 16, 2016

Airports are ports of old and new lives – them two reach the departure hall but only one is carrying his luggage. Ports of big feelings filled with empty promises; I will see you again, but when. Four months could mean anything; read “never” somewhere between the lines or wear a blindfold. I had a...

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And the rain changed the day

November 23, 2015

I’ve never feared rain. Or storms. I don’t particularly like thunder, because of the unpleasant noise; I sometimes dislike rain because of the way it soaks my clothes but I’ve never really been afraid of its journey colliding with mine. Even when the first insecure drops of rain water splashed on my foot waking me...

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And I had a name and it wasn’t Tubaab

September 29, 2015

When at night I grab the small plastic teapot that lives in my room and walk to the water place at the backyard to fill it up for my last visit to the outside toilet of the day, I can see stars. According to them the world continues outside of my house.  I was cleaning...

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And there were dreams in the island

September 29, 2015

This morning I woke up giggling, for I dreamt that a soap opera made an episode about filling up the shelves of a supermarket. I couldn’t recall where I was for a while. Then I found myself in a mosquito net castle. Airplanes fly over our house so near I’m sure if the windows had...

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And the puddles were actually parts of a soup

September 28, 2015

I open my computer with a purely voluntary intention of reaching my parents, and pick up the piece of paper that drops on my hotel bed from between the lid and the keyboard. But the note, written by that polite man at the reception, sees daylight only to find itself useless. For the two, maybe...

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And the more than five pieces fell into place for starters

September 5, 2015

And the more than five pieces fell into place for starters. It feels like a clumsy way to start a blog about one’s adventures abroad by just starting a blog about one’s adventures abroad. But I guess the only way to get started is to just begin. So. I’m sitting here on my bed in...

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