Terve, ystävä!

Groggy Finland is slowly waking up from her restful wintry slumber, throwing back her thick comforter of snow, remembering how nice social interactions are, and I am doing the same. This letter to you not only marks my own early springtime unfurling, but it also reflects the growing number of people on Helsinki’s slushy and warming streets, the general spine straightening, the eye catching, the subtle flirting, the louder conversations, and the reemergence of the unhurried stroll. Mind you, all this “spring talk” is based on a temperature soar to 0 degrees celsius, which just occurred three days ago. I’m willing to read this as a sign of shifting seasons though, especially since the sun has suddenly and miraculously become warming when it rests upon you, rather than just showing up in thin bursts of colorful cheer.

It’s been an incredible and long winter and I have a renewed respect and reverence for nature. During several distinctly memorable moments of feeling extreme cold, I wondered if I would survive my journey home without loosing some kind of …appendage. I have marveled at how nose hairs can freeze instantaneously. I have lost myself in the wonderment of what severe cold does to the shape of snowflakes. I have agonized over the dilemma of how to dress in the morning when I anticipate being outside in -20 degree weather but also have to use public transport, which is climatically balmy and tropical. Fleeting glimpses of delicate sun rays during the dark time of solstice have inspired me to stop in my tracks and do a few sun salutations at the edge of the walking path. I have seen, I think, the most comical and sensational outerwear for dogs on the planet.

And Goshva has arrived! The Finnish Posti Service registers everyone staying in the country for more than three months. They think Josh’s name is Goshva and now I think so too (it sounds particularly nice when you draw out the o-s-h-a part). We are happily exploring this new city together, adjusting to sharing a living space that is approximately one eighth the size of our previous studio, plunging our steaming bodies into ice holes after emerging from saunas, dancing in town, discussing the curiosities of most recently viewed art performance pieces, having extreme Nordic snow adventures (such as being pulled on skis behind galloping horses), having eyebrow raising Nordic snow adventures (such as playing “ruler of the enormous snow pile” which involves pushing one another off the enormous snow piles in downtown walking thoroughfares), and having tame Nordic snow adventures (such as watching snow build up outside our cozy apartment). We have been making lots of food for ourselves and for friends, and I feel myself reuniting with the familiar sensation that home is where I’m eager to return to after a long day at work when Josh is there. It is wonderful to have my wonderful friend living here in Finland with me!

Life has certainly been active in the three months since I’ve written, though I’ve felt less inclined to contemplate novelties in mass emails because my days are characterized more by routine and I’m developing a more personal relationship with Finland. Memorable experiences from wintertime include how this country literally lit up with candles and enthusiasm during the holidays. I shuffled into tiny wooden candlelit churches with Finnish friends to listen to beautiful choral music while packed like sardines in the pews. Sonja, a friend, invited me to accompany her to her tiny village in the countryside where we customarily visited deceased family members at the cemetery and placed candles by graves, which gleamed in the “blue hour” before dark along with thousands of other candles by thousands of other graves. We ate root vegetable casseroles, drank port by the fire and sipped on coffee all day long. The whole family took long saunas every day together and people paired off in various couples to spend quality time together in that special place where ultimate quality time is had. It was nurturing and joyful to be with such a caring family in a beautiful old farmhouse in the middle of an expansive winter over the holidays.

Helsinki is a lovely city and it’s charm isn’t flaunted or exaggerated, though a pulsing artistic and creative scene certainly exists here. Helsinki moments that wholly engage me are when I walk to the tip of the city and witness people scattered about the strange white desert of frozen bay, making pilgrimages to the southern sun. It’s also kind of fascinating to watch little wrinkled elderly ladies with fur hats and stiff fingers expertly navigating complex banking machines with impressive technological efficiency. I love my weekly visit to the public swimming hall where I can sit still and invisibly in the cloudy steam room where water drips and rolls off of me along with the beautiful vowels of hushed Finnish that drip and roll off of me as well. In the same public hall but in the sauna this time, I’ve gotten to sit with a group of young women as they prepared their friend for her wedding the next day, rubbing her with salt and honey and laughing with the surrounding women who were able to join them in this loving and traditional experience.

My work is equally captivating and challenging. Just thinking about the young women who have shared such personal stories of struggle and strength with me during interviews makes my heart swell. I’m well into my interview process for the project and I learn so much from each person’s narrated experiences. Interviews last for two hours and each person volunteers for three sessions, so while I’m absolutely swimming in data and transcribing it makes me crazy, I feel like I have a fairly good sense of context and more of a holistic understanding of the people who participate. I’ve been invited as a visiting scholar at Väestöliitto, which means that brilliant people and researchers are around me and I can pop into their offices and say things like “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing” and they help me. Having an office and workspace gives me structure and it is inspiring to be around people who are invested in their work and who speak passionately about the subjects they research. Josh and I recently returned from Pori where I was gave a lecture to master’s in social work students about the development of sexuality, and we had a really nice time in one of my favorite places in Finland with some of my favorite friends.

And now, my sweetheart Goshva and I need to remove ourselves from this little flat and put ourselves on a plane to Istanbul. We, I, miss you all at home and think of you very often. This is an enriching and unique life adventure but I also frequently reflect on what an adventure it is to be amongst friends and community, to make the music, to grow the vegetables, to know others and to be known, and to stay. Much love to all of you in this time of springy unfurling, and be well!

Love Alicia

Check out the photos:

Uutta Vuotta (New Year): picasaweb.google.com/vialicia/UuttaVuotta

Hyvää Joulu (Happy Holidays): picasaweb.google.com/vialicia/HyvaaJuolua

Barely There Solstice: picasaweb.google.com/vialicia/BarelyThereNordicSolstice

Sauna, Luomi, and Olut (Josh)

Today is the first of March, and is also the third consecutive day in which the temperature has peeked its head above the freezing mark. In a city that has been blanketed by snow for 4 months without a thaw, the effects of +1°C are noteworthy. For starters, the light but persistent flurries have turned to rain (and then to snow, and then to rain). The rain has made muck of the streets, and the sidewalks have become fearful places as chunks of melting snow become dislodged from rooftops and windowsills and fall kamikaze-like upon the pedestrians below. I’ve been grazed twice, and seen too many innocents startled by the abrupt swoosh, WHAP, and spray of falling snow. Aside from the safety concerns, the newfound positivity in the temperature has been a lovely reprieve from having to be so diligent when preparing to enter the outdoors (usually I have to carefully consider the relative layering requirements of -16°C and -6°C and arrange scarves and gloves just so to ensure no skin is exposed). It’s also a palpable reminder that winter will not last forever and that this city too will someday enjoy the rapturous coming of spring.

Not to dwell on the weather, but in the interest of full disclosure I should note that the cold and snowy winter I so aggrandized in my last letter is actually quite an exceptional winter for Helsinki. In fact, it has been the coldest and snowiest winter in southern Finland since 1970. Most Finns I’ve spoken to have celebrated the snow, proclaiming this to be a “good winter” because everything is so much lighter and prettier than the usual gloomy grayness. For my part, I feel lucky to have caught such a special winter, as many of my favorite experiences in Finland have been adventures in the snow. Before the snow (and my memories) melts anymore, I figured it was time to send another letter home. Especially because tomorrow Alicia and I board a plane for 12 days in Turkey, where I hope to bring back memories of a distinctly less wintry variety!

Adventures in the Lumi (Snow)

To fully embrace the Finnish winter you have to go play in the snow. Arriving on my first day I was inspired by all the little kids in their one-piece snow suites sledding down the hill in the park near the railway station. Those little kids remain an inspiration to me as I see them climbing atop snow banks and then fearlessly plunging into the fluffy sea of white below.

My first adventure in the snow came when Alicia brought me up to Tampere, a city two hours north of Helsinki where she spent her first four months in Finland. We rented cross-country skis and set off on an epic expedition across the frozen lake and into an expansive wooded park. Having only strapped skis to my feet a couple times before, I was glad to get an easy start on the well established tracks of the flat lake. I’m a sucker for anything that lets you go faster, and I was quickly taken by the easy gliding of the skis across the snow. Things got a bit trickier when we left the lake and made our way haphazardly through the lawn of someone’s lake house in search of the trail. Skis excel at straight lines, and impose certain awkwardness on even the simplest of sideways maneuvers. Nevertheless, we made it to the trail only to be confronted by a rather steep series of hills that required the whole of my physical abilities to mount on skis. Arriving at the top we took a break to appreciate the extraordinary beauty of our surroundings, and marvel at the amazing Finnish skiers who skated up the hills with a well honed grace that hinted at the unused potential of my own skis. When the time came to make our way down the other side of the hill I was confronted by the fact that I had little confidence in my own stopping abilities and no knowledge of just how long, steep and winding the trail ahead might be. My options were to either keep my skis in the tracks (leaving me no option but to fall if things got out of hand), or to attempt the risky business of a snow plowing down the open trail. I snow plowed, and miraculously, I survived! Reaching the bottom of what turned out to be a pretty substantial hill, I shouted to Alicia, “Holy Shit! I ski.”

We were soon beckoned back to Tampere, this time for an ultimate Frisbee tournament held on another frozen lake. Was this a completely silly venture? Yes it was. But it turns out that not only can you have a great deal of fun playing ultimate in the snow, you can also make a pretty good game of it. I was thrilled to get a dose of my favorite sport, and quickly wore myself out running through the snow. On the sidelines each team has brought some special treat to prepare. Our team, the Freeze Bees, had brought chocolate fondue and bananas, which were utterly delicious. A neighboring team fried apple donuts. Alicia and I drank hot chocolate with Mintuu (a strong mint liquor made in the “Finnish Himalayas”) from a thermos to stay warm. By the time we’d played three games we were ready to retire to the lakeside sauna and warm up. Afterwards, everyone piled into a cabin to roast sausages over the fire and play games. It was a really friendly and welcoming group and, with the addition of a few beers, things got quite gregarious. Hurray for Frisbee, and hurray for not letting the snow hold you back!

This past week I went with Alicia to Pori, a town on the west coast where she has contacts at the university. To speak of the hospitality we received from our host, Harri, would be another letter entirely, so I’ll just say that every morning there were place settings laid out for our breakfasts, and we were looked after most generously. As part of a full social agenda, we were invited to go with another professor, Riika, to her friend’s house for a horse drawn sleigh ride through the woods. This in and of itself would have been an affair to remember, but when we arrived we were offered not only a sleigh ride, but also the opportunity to ride the horse, and be pulled on skis behind another horse! Now, I’ve only been on a horse once or twice as a kid, and I’ve never actually set foot in downhill skis, so this was all pretty exciting for me. The horse was a 22-year-old Norwegian used by the owner as a therapy horse, and had long thick hair and a striped main. Alicia was the first to ride it and she looked so wonderful sitting atop this noble creature against a backdrop of snow and birches. I looked a little less composed on my skis being pulled around a field at a gallop, but it sure was fun. After we had all gotten a chance to ride the horse we retired inside the families house for hot chocolate. With their three blond-haired boys and their eager smiles, they cut quiet the image of a robust Scandinavian family. The father sons being musicians, we all shared some songs and jammed a bit in the living room together. If only all my days here in Finland could be filled with these kind of quasi-magical encounters in the woods!

The Sauna

There is good reason why the sauna features so prominently in Finnish life. The obvious reason is that it is deeply satisfying to soak yourself to the core with warmth in such a cold climate. But the Finns are devoted to the sauna year round, and are quick to site many attributes of a good sweat. “The sauna is just a good place to get clean,” I hear one Finn say. True, bathing in the sauna is part of Finnish family life from just weeks after a child is born, through adulthood (although around adolescence the kids often start to sauna only with parents of the same gender). One of Alicia’s advisors even travels between cities for a regular Saturday evening sauna date with his three grown sons.

Because there is a natural intimacy in the sauna (the quiet, the nakedness, the closeness) I think it’s also a place of great solidarity. To bear the heat, to brave a cold plunge, to simply expose one's unadorned body, creates a kind of kinship that seems to affirm some basic loyalty to each other as members of the same species, subject to the same physical form and forces. This is especially so when men and women sauna separately (as is usually the case). I’ve found the atmosphere in the male saunas to be respectful and unassuming in a way that life on the ‘streets’ is not. Of course, machismo rears its head from time to time when some heavyset guy insists on ladling scoop after scoop of water onto the hot rocks, producing enough steam to drive the less insulated bodies from the sauna.

My own appreciation for the sauna is as much for its meditative environment as it is for its cleansing physical properties. Not being someone with many established personal routines or a spiritual practice, I like the ritual of going to the sauna, of getting quiet, checking in with my body and relaxing my mind. I think it’s valuable to cultivate these kinds of practices (yoga has similar benefits for me), and I’m glad that as a culture the Finns have such devotion to the sauna. Going to the sauna has been an important part of my cultural experience in Finland, and based on the abundance of affordable pubic saunas and the general enthusiasm for going to them, I’ve managed to go at least once a week!

Olut (Beer)

The beer to drink in Finland is Karhu, a pale lager with a nice strong flavor. Karhu, the Finnish word for bear, is a bit of a change for a guy used to the hopped up IPA’s of the Pacific Northwest, but it has won me over handily. Which is good because it's one of only a handful of beers that can be ordered at every bar or restaurant and bought at any store. Beer is a highly standardized affair in Finland. For starters, there is one brewery (Sinebrychoff, owned by Carlsberg) that makes or imports nearly all the popular beers in the country. Add to that very strict rules governing alcohol consumption, and you’ll find your beer shopping experience to be pretty systematic. For example, do you want Karhu III, which has 4.6% alcohol, or Karhu A, which has 5.3% and accordingly costs more. From the tap you’ll get either a .33ml pour or a .5ml pour, and as all the taps are automatic this is not at all subject to the relative generosity your local bartender. Neither will you find a great deal of variation in the price of beer, which costs about €4.5 for a .5ml glass in a bar, and about €3.5 for a similarly sized can in a store. While there is no such thing as cheap beer (by American standards), it’s easy to compare prices because everything in the grocery store has a label that lists the cost per volume in standard units (€/ml). Strangely the most economical beer is a single 33cl glass bottle, which seems to be part of a government effort to limit the appeal of an easily transportable six-packs of cans. Similarly, bars are not allowed to advertise drink deals, so unless you’ve got the inside scoop you can pretty much forget about catching a happy hour (read: Portland, I miss you). Despite the controls, Finns consume a lot of alcohol, and it is quiet common to see drunken Finns wavering their way down the street after dark. Being on a budget, I cannot indulge in any such excess consumption, but I do enjoy a nice, precise, .5ml pour of Karhu now and again.

This Finnish Life

After nearly two months, I’ve grown quite accustomed to life in Helsinki. The route from my apartment through the university of Helsinki, along Alexanderinkatu (a main shopping street), to the university cafeteria (UniCafe) has become a familiar path. As has the walk down Liisankatu, through the park to the train station. Or the run along the bay (past the boats, churches, presidential offices, and giant ferries) to the southern tip of Helsinki where small islands beckon you to venture just a bit further out across the frozen sea. If I’m not with Alicia on these walks, I’m usually listening to podcasts, which I have become increasingly reliant on for company and information. This American Life, Planet Money, and Inside Renewable Energy are my staples, but lately I’ve been digging even deeper.

While I do spend a lot of time alone, and often miss my friends across the ocean, Alicia and I also have a nice (and growing) group of friends in Helsinki. For starters, there’re the other Fulbright Fellows who like to get together for dinners and the occasional night out. In particular Julia, a buzzing artist of many passions, has invited Alicia and me to interesting performance art events that wouldn’t usually cross our paths, and introduced us to acrobats, musicians, and other colorful characters. Alicia’s friend, Saara, a Finn who has recently returned from a Fulbright in America, is another frequent visitor, and has become my best resource for asking questions about Finnish society. Alicia and I have taken up a mantra in response to the myriad questions that arise due to the subtle differences between Finland and the US. “Ask a Finn.” It’s a simple thing, but you still have to push yourself to do it. And when you do ask it's always rewarding to grasp just a bit more understanding of the country that, for now, we’re calling home.

Well my friends, my family, I’d love to take you all on a walk through Helsinki, to have an adventure in the snow, and then go for a sauna and a Karhu. But as Finland is a far away and expensive land, I hope that this letter is able to convey a bit of the experience. The pictures attached should help to illustrate some of the scenes I’ve written about. If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to “ask a Finn”, who in this case can be me. I’d love to hear from you, and hope that all is well and the crocuses are blooming where you are.

Love,

Josh

P.S. I’ve entirely neglected to mention the waste-to-energy class I’m taking at Aalto University of technology, my research into district heating, and my visit to a bioenergy plant. Lots to share on those subjects, but I’m afraid it’ll have to wait until another time as I simply have to board a plane for Turkey.