Moi moi Finland

I have dreaded coming to this last post because it means that I have been away from Helsinki for several weeks -- and the Finnish life is fading away from me.

Now that I am back in the US, I am almost fully re-acclimatized to a different lifestyle:

• I drive around a lot.
• I make sudden and unpredictable moves when I walk (guaranteed to frighten or injure Helsinki bike riders).
• I enter shops at all sorts of hours and expect them to be open. And they are.
• I begin random conversations with people I don't know.
• I cross streets where and when I want.
• I expect strange dogs to bark at me. And they do.

Maybe I should no longer comment on Finland and Finns until I get there again. I hope to. In the meanwhile, I study my Finnish nightly, but the materials are usually uninspiring. So I prove very often that is is possible to forget the Finnish word for almost anything just a few minutes after you think you finally have it down. I will persevere, however, so that the next time I speak Finnish to Finns they will not grow silent and replay my words in their minds until they come across the variation that makes sense to them.

The last of 3,262 photos I took In Finland

Nähdään!

Ten things I like about living in Helsinki

If I don't limit myself to 10 things I like about living in Helsinki, I could end up writing a long time. And I will miss Helsinki even more…. 

Paths. Walking paths and riding paths, often shared, crisscross Helsinki wherever there is an excuse to have a little green space. And green space abounds beyond the city center. Walking and bicycle riding is not just a pastime here, however; it is a common means of simply just getting somewhere. Everyone uses the responsibly. 

Trams. Buses are great, and there are a lot more bus lines to choose from to go to more places, but for getting around in the main part of the city, the tram is the way to go. Besides being able to get off in some of the choice spots in Helsinki where buses don't penetrate, the tram appeals to anyone who ever pushed around a toy train on tracks as a kid. The trams may not appear like they did in the 19^th-century, but they still provide the thrill of a time-gone-by experience (although the looks on the faces of many of the seasoned tram riders may suggest that the thrill wears off after a few years).

Pastries. I know I mentioned pastries on the list of things I don't like about Helsinki, but it was not because of their taste, their size, or their tempting nature. Or maybe it was. Well, I am going to have it both ways on this one.

Manners. Finns are never as verbally expressive or as expansive as Americans for whom everyone including strangers is often considered a conversational partner. But good manners are always present, and the most commonly heard word in public is "kiitos" or one of its many derivatives. Often expressed several times in a simple transaction. Just because.

Herring. Having lived all my life in landlocked states far from any ocean, there are many seafoody things I was not accustomed to eating. Herring was at the top of that list. In fact, most seafood can appear odd and smelly in its natural state (i.e., fresh) to a landlubber. I am not saying that some seafood no longer gives me pause, but I have finally realized why herring is so popular whether pickled in a jar, fried up and served like French fries, marinated in mustard, etc.

Finnish. The language. It is as difficult as everyone says, and I am still a beginner, but I was surrounded by it for five months and have learned to love it. It is visually intimidating with lengthy words, doubled consonants and vowels, and the various ä and ö appearances that at first seem random (but which are not). A great language for those who appreciate challenges. I have also read several articles that call oral Finnish "monotonous" because of its rhythm (the accent is always on the first syllable), but I don't think the authors of these articles ever listened at length to well-spoken Finnish.  I really miss hearing it spoken in public around me. 

Dogs. Dogs are beloved in Helsinki and are welcome in places where they never get a chance to venture in the US. These dogs ride the trams, walk around stores, and go anywhere else that people go. Dog parks (separated into small and large parks) are very common -- just follow one of those many paths and you will encounter a dog park where unleashed dogs socialize. And dogs being led around on a leash by their Finnish masters exhibit the same qualities as these masters: they are calm, they respect your privacy, they don't bark at you, they don't strain at their leash to get to you (I am talking about the dogs, by the way). 

Paving stones. Irregular paving is not well-liked by pedestrians who need to walk around in all weather to get places: it slows you down, hurts your feet, and can be a bit dangerous at times. It would be so easy for city authorities to lay down an easy-to-maintain layer of asphalt and forget about it. But Helsinki holds onto such things, and a city that is not very flashy in many ways is endearing in its connections to old but still useful ways of doing things (think of trams). Wear comfortable shoes, and expect to be unexpectedly rattled when your bus crosses certain areas of Helsinki.

Crosswalks. You can usually distinguish the non-Finns from the Finns at a crosswalk. For Finns, a crosswalk signal is not considered a "suggestion" as it is in many places around the world. It is not ignored. A crosswalk signal is to be obeyed, and the more people who obey it, the safer the experience is. The tourists can't seem to understand why no one is crossing when the way is clear, and they can't seem to understand why streets are crossed only at the designated areas. I have occasionally seen Finns cross streets on their own accord -- but they are the exception, and I assume it is an evil foreign influence that has changed their behavior. 

Libraries. Finns love to read, and public services such as libraries make sure that they can. Helsinki public libraries are engaging and efficient; they reach out and they engage their users. Services are offered, and the public is accommodated. Progressive and forward thinking. Yes, I am also a librarian, but that is why I can really appreciate libraries in places I visit.

Ten things I do not like about living in Helsinki

After five months I feel I can make a fair judgment on what I like and what I don't like in Helsinki. I want to start with what I do not like, just to get it over with -- because there is so much more that I like. However, I will limit myself to 10 items for both categories. Sigh. I need to make this list of 10 things I don't like as quickly as possible: for every day that I am now away from Helsinki, I miss it even more.

So here is what I don't like about living in Helsinki:

Cigarette butts. A lot of people in Helsinki smoke. They smoke outside, of course, but they still smoke, either standing around or strolling along. The smell of cigarette smoke is a common scent that you finally get used to. What is hard to get used to is the evidence of so much smoking. Popular venues in Helsinki where people naturally congregate (bus stops, tram stops, etc.) can often be outdoor ashtrays.

Rye bread. It is a tradition, it is respected, it is commonly consumed. As an American, I have had less contact with rye bread, and less time to build up a taste for this Finnish staple unless it is masked by a slathering of some condiment or sauerkraut. 

Group seating on trams. The newer tram models have groupings of seats that face each other, two on a side, separated by a small table. Four people sitting in these seats can barely keep their knees from touching those opposite them. Awkward when a stranger sits opposite. More awkward when this enforced socialization continues for several tram stops and, as an American, you have to resist the urge to start a random conversation (which is not the Finnish thing to do).

Gray skies. So we don't have gray skies in the US? Of course we do. But in a strange city where gray skies are common in winter during your few hours of daylight, you really start to miss hints of blue.

Graffiti. Helsinki is a big city with lots of concrete. How can I blame it for accumulating that scourge of any big city? I still don't like it, however. 

Street signs. A good map and a GPS are wonderful accessories when getting around Helsinki. Street signs are not found on poles at street corners or any place else that would easily be visible. Instead, street signs are found on the sides of the corner buildings. So you have to go a bit farther at timers to know what street you are on. And you have to have good eyesight, because space is not wasted on large street signs.

New York Yankees. If any Helsinkian is going to be wearing a baseball cap (my favorite type of hat), it is invariably a cap with a New York Yankees logo. I am from Kansas City, and I have not gotten over 1978 yet (and a few other years). You can't get away from the Yankees even in Helsinki.

 Pastries. Actually I love pastries. What I don't like about Helsinki pastries is that they are too big, too good, and too tempting. Living in a foreign city makes it seem like you can eat what you want whenever you want. Well, you can't.And it eventually starts to show.

  

English. Most English-speaking visitors love that everyone speaks English and that English is commonly seen on advertisements and posters. I would not have survived if not for the English skills of the Finns I encountered in everyday situations (at the store, at the bank, etc.). But it made it too easy to avoid speaking Finnish. And seeing English plastered all over town kept reminding me that we visitors were not considered capable of learning Finnish as readily as we wanted. 

People respect your privacy. People don't bother you by telling you what you are supposed to know. Isn't respect of your privacy a good thing? It usually is -- but sometimes in Helsinki I would have really benefited if someone would have respected my privacy less and just told me what I needed to know. Really, I would not have minded if someone told me about where I was supposed to be and what I was supposed to do!

Things I still do not understand

After five months, I have still yet to figure some things out about Finland. I often despair that I ever will.

• Getting through a Finnish door. Finnish doors that do not have Push or Pull in any language are my nemesis. Without a Push or Pull (I can read Finnish, Swedish, and others), I often fail to guess from any visual clues. It is embarrassing to fail at a door. Especially a door one uses often.
• Karelian pastries. They look so tasty! My American eyes tell me that these cute little things will be so sweet (uh, the word "pasty" conjures that image). But they are not sweet, and when you disappoint a sweet taste that your mind is anticipating, you suffer.
• Getting off the tram. I know I have seen people exit from the front door of the tram. But I also have seen scores of people who sit right by the front door of the tram -- and when they want to get off, they walk all the way back to the middle door to exit. Even if they are nearly lame, There must have been some rule not long ago about front-door tram exiting. Are front-door tram exiters rebels?
• My incomprehensible Finnish. I have worked hard at learning how to pronounce Finnish. But when I speak Finnish, very often native speakers will look at me for an uncomfortable moment as they seem to be translating in their heads the Finnish they have just heard into a language that makes sense to them. Then suddenly their eyes open wider, and they often repeat what I thought I said. Just improved. The margin for error in oral Finnish must be very small.
  
• Salmiakki. Salty liquorice is not a treat for me; it is an ordeal. But Finns seems to enjoy it, and all types of salmiakki-flavored treats are available wherever you think you should be able to buy something to eat or drink.  My recommendation for future visitors to Finland: start young, and acquire this taste. Your eating and drinking options will grow.

The list of things I do not yet understand is longer, but I will not include everything. I have a few more days in Finland, and I hope to mark a couple more of these items off that list -- and put them on the list of things I have figured out.

Reading Finnish

After a few months of looking at Finnish grammar books and doing all I could in my spare time to learn Finnish, I know I have made progress. Now when the 7A or 7B tram driver announces at Pasila station how long we will wait before resuming, I understand. When the cashier at the K-Market grocery store asks me if I want my receipt, I can reply. And when the clerk at Stockmann's Café Argos asks if I will also have a coffee with my sandwich, I don't have to confess my ignorance.

You gotta admire a guy who shoots
cars plunging off NY wharves.

But then I got cocky. I wanted to go beyond small talk and tackle Finnish literature. I assumed I could read Finnish. Not just signs and posters -- but whole groups of sentences. Of course I knew better than to start with the Kalevala, or any novel, of anything long, or -- well, just about anything that people more than seven years old read. So I bought a 96-page graphic novel: Nick Raider, New York City Homicide Detective. The title was "Mafian Tähtäimessä" and I correctly understood "Mafian" but had to rely on Google translate to tell me that "Mafian Tähtäimessä" meant "Mafia Sights." Taking off the "Mafian" got me "in sight." So the meaning I assume was somewhere between the two! Now I was reading! But my optimism was short lived. Every other panel was a struggle unless someone shot at someone else or a car sped off (I can understand a gun that goes "Bang!" and a ricochet that goes "Twiiing." Even a car that goes "Vroooom." I guess the translator didn't bother to put these into Finnish.). But not every panel can contain a gunfight or a speeding car chase; someone has to talk occasionally between shots and screeches. And it was making no sense to me. I was averaging one page per day, and that includes pictures. So I learned I could not even read a Finnish graphic novel. Yet I am not disillusioned and not giving up -- I just have to pick my Finnish texts more carefully (less words, more pictures?). Now I have invested in the most recent Garfield (aka Karvinen). The plot is easier (Garfield eating lasagna or swatting spiders). And I can finally say that I am reading Finnish.

The five-second rule

Getting on and off the tram is easy. Little children and dogs do it all the time, along with kids carrying skateboards and (older) kids carrying beer cans. Even elderly couples hop on and hop off (yet somewhat more slowly than the kids). However, there is one important rule that we all must obey: the five-second rule. This is how it works. When you get on the tram, you have approximately five seconds to either sit down, or to brace yourself somehow, or to find something that you will be able to grab onto -- preferably a pole or back of a seat and not another passenger. You see, in five seconds, unless delayed by a tourist who has climbed aboard and started to ask questions, the tram driver puts the tram in gear (or something like that) and starts moving again. You would think that a tram, being a large and heavy vehicle on tram tracks, would nudge forward gently as it slowly picks up speed. Even though it is not the same as a drag car burning rubber at the green light, a tram jerks forward as if it were in a race. A race to the next tram stop.

When the tram starts forward, if you are not in your seat, or not holding onto something, or not able to find something very quickly to hold onto, you are abruptly jostled. I have never seen anyone thrown to the ground, fortunately. But riders who forget the five-second rule suddenly pantomime drunken sailors on a storm-tossed ship.

But don't worry if you forget the five-second rule. If you are thrown about and grab at things and narrowly avoid plopping into someone's lap, there is no need to be embarrassed. Remember, this is Finland, after all, and Finns respect your privacy; no one even looks at you as you try to regain your dignity (well, they may look but they will pretend not to). Yes, you nonchalantly clutch the nearest pole and act as if was no big deal to nearly fall down in front of strangers. You'll have your sea legs soon.

Getting the most out of your chocolate-factory tour

I recently went on a Fazer chocolate-factory tour and learned quite a few things I need to pass on to you before your own tour.

The mysterious young man shown in your last orientation film who appears from nowhere with a pass to visit the Fazer factory and then gets a job there is really the 19-century founder of Fazer chocolates, Karl Fazer, who materializes in the present to check on his legacy. Or is he? You may be confused. But don't spend time thinking about it and perhaps even discussing it with other tour goers as did I. Get over it because you have more important tour stops coming up.

Fazer makes more stuff besides chocolate, especially bread. But you did not come to tour a bread factory (which is made elsewhere, anyway), so gloss over the bread display and move on to the important next stop.

All the chocolate you can eat, candy and bar form, of many different varieties.  Yes, your childhood dream has come true. But there are three rules: You can eat only one piece at a time, you can't take any with you to eat later, and you can't have a drink while eating. And security cameras are pointed at you to make sure you obey. So plan your day carefully before the "tasting" session. Refrain from overeating before arriving (definitely no pre-tour chocolate), avoid eating the chocolates you are familiar with (you already know what those taste like!), and employ a chocolate buddy (someone to help you eat part of the larger bars so you can go onto the next type faster).

Don't be disappointed when you discover you can't actually walk among the conveyor belts and rotating drums of chocolates on your tour, as you probably will imagine beforehand. Hygienic reasons will be given. You are never offered white lab coats, hair nets, and booties. Anyway, would you want to eat chocolates made in a factory where people like you tramp through all day long?

For fun, try to silently guess the jobs of the employees who walk past your tour. Somebody has to taste the chocolate. Imagine yourself being employed as a chocolate taster. Then remember other foods you used to like before you ate too much of them. Shudder.

Grab a basket when you are allowed into the Fazer store to buy chocolate at greatly reduced and thus tempting prices. You will not be able to carry in your hands all you pick up. You can buy Fazer plastic bags (.15) at the check-out counter, but a sturdy canvas bag may be something you want to bring if you have a lot of schlepping around to do on your way back via bus, tram, and metro. Especially if you don't want to do free advertising for Fazer.

The chocolate and cookies you get in the courtesy bag upon leaving the factory will serve you well for your own needs (i.e., when you feel hungry again on the way home). But if you don't like rye bread at all (like me), you have just been given a life-time supply of rye bread (four sandwiches' worth). Find someone who loves rye bread (any Finn friend) and re-gift without shame. The shame would be wasting a great Fazer product.