Vappu and Beyond

Vappu was sunny, if a little chilly. When I went running by the harbor on Tuesday, I noticed quite a lot of ice still coating the lake. By the next day, every last bit of it had melted. Seeing the sky reflected in the water after a long winter was really something.

After spending as much time as possible outside, I must admit that I indulged a little too lavishly.

The weather has continued to be beautiful and even warmed up some. Today, we went to Linnoituksen Krouvi, which is only open during the warmer months of the year. I find the quality of their food to be a bit higher than that of many other restaurants in this area, so it was pretty cool to eat there again.

The experience was made even cooler when we were lead outside onto the terrace.

We were nestled between the warm brick building and a grassy knoll, with a view of the harbor to the left. I was so ecstatic to be sitting in such a pretty place that I began peppering our Finnish conversation with English expletives, exclaiming about how wonderful the day was and how happy I was to be there.

The food was great. If Lappeenranta is on your list of summer destinations, you should visit the fortress and check out Krouvi. 

Let's get together sometime.

Americans are easy to stereotype. Our films are everywhere. Our music is inescapable. Our television shows air all over the world. The US is the world's largest exporter of media, and everyone seems to feel pretty well acquainted with our culture as a result.

I've heard quite a few ideas on American culture while living in Finland. Some are correct. Some are outright misconceptions. Let's analyze a few of them. 

Disclaimer: Though I've traveled to different places within the US, I've never lived outside of New England. This is a New Englander's perspective. Regional differences likely apply. 

1. Americans don't mean it when they say, "Let's get together sometime." It's just a formality.

In my experience, this is just plain false. At the least it displays a misunderstanding about how this phrase might come to be uttered and not result in hang outs. 

Imagine it. You meet someone. You like him or her. He or she suggests that you reconnect at some point for more fun times. You say, "Sure!" because you genuinely appreciate him or her. Time passes. Your kid gets the flu. Your boss has been a real asshole this week. You forget to call. He or she doesn't contact you either, presumably for a host of similar reasons. It turns out that this budding friendship isn't a top priority. The two of you never speak again. 

If, however, so-and-so does manage to pick up the phone or shoot you a text message, you're not going to be shocked that he or she did so. You'll be pleased that so-and-so took the initiative. 

The point is, I've never encountered a situation in which I felt like I was socially obligated to make faux plans with someone I thought a turd, or even someone I didn't think much of one way or the other. Who the fuck would do that? 

2. When someone asks, "How are you?" the only acceptable answers are "fine," "good," and "wonderful." 

Unlike the above, saying "How are you?" is a formality, or can be. Still, you're under no obligation to ask at all, and it's perfectly acceptable to answer honestly (within reason). Here's an example:

Coworker 1: Hey, how are you? 

Coworker 2: Oh, well, not that great, actually. I didn't sleep too well. 

Coworker 1: That sucks. 

Who knows, maybe Coworker 2 didn't sleep well because his wife kept trying to murder him in his sleep. That's not something he'd feel comfortable revealing to an acquaintance. Still, he managed to be honest without over-sharing.

There is an exception, however. Sometimes, when telemarketers call, it'll go something like this:

Person: Hello?

Telemarketer: Hi! This is Jennifer from Intrusive P.O.S. Inc. andhowareyoutoday?

Person:...Fine.

3. Americans eat a lot of hamburgers and cannot live without them while abroad. 

Even if it were difficult to obtain hamburgers outside the US, are they really that important to our gastronomy? I'm going to go with no. 

4. Americans are so puritanical. They have this rule - "No sex on the first date." 

We have no such rule. Stop watching romantic comedies.

5. Americans love to chat in line at the store. 

This one might actually be true, at least in friendlier regions. Still, I find it hard to imagine. What's the protocol? With whom do you start a conversation, the person in front of or behind you? What happens when you've run out of acceptable topics to discuss? What if your conversation partner turns out to be an asshole? I think this claim is overblown. 

For more on this topic, take a listen to this segment from an episode of This American Life. 

My fellow Americans, you are welcome to weigh in or contribute to the list. What misconceptions have you encountered? Non-Americans, what stereotypes about your own culture really irk you? 

Springtime Linguistics

This school term went out on a difficult note. Unfortunately, it simply wouldn't be right to share the gory details.

I'm a tease, I know. Blame the fact that I egotistically chose to share too many personal details when I undertook this blogging project.

I can tell you that I reconnected with a few of my friends from the intensive course last Friday evening, and I can confirm that it was an incredibly good time. It was also a great chance to speak Finnish. See, the four of us - two Chinese women, a Hungarian woman and me - really only share one common language and, for once, that language isn't English. Throughout the evening, I kept wondering what a Finnish person might think of our little Finnish-language get-together.

I often overhear people of various foreign origins speaking English together; even if they've studied Finnish, I suppose it's easier to resort to the language they've likely spent many more years listening to, reading and perfecting. In our little group of expats, English ability varies from native proficiency to zero proficiency. Finnish is, therefore, our common language.

As an additional bonus, we don't feel self-conscious speaking Finnish amongst ourselves - we all make egregious errors, pause for long periods in order to recall a particular word or declension, and struggle to express ourselves.

The problem lies in that very openness, though. You should hear some of the absolutely ungrammatical crap that escapes my lips if I don't feel the weight of a native speaker's judgement bearing down on me. I sort of don't mind. I'm normally so exacting that speech becomes an analytical process rather than an act of communication. It's so nice to just let your lips go.

We did experiment with other languages a bit, though. One woman in the Chinese contingent recently had a baby girl, so we spent much of the evening getting to know the little one. When our host began cooing in her native Hungarian, the baby's face lit up in a smile. I've always thought that Hungarian is a beautiful language, and I set about to prove my theory. I let out a little English baby talk, but the baby's face registered no reaction. Then came both Cantonese and Mandarin. Nothing. Finnish? Nothing. Back to Hungarian and her little face was as bright as can be.

The baby's name is Minna. I think she'd better grow to love Finnish, too. 

Language Update

I write well. I listen less well. I speak less well than even that.

As I suspected would happen, some of my skills have atrophied since the fulltime course ended last fall.  My speaking has sustained some damage, as I no longer speak Finnish every day. I listen and write often, so those skills continue to improve slowly.

The problem is finding people with whom to speak. My developing career is based upon my ability to speak English. Chatting with Rami is certainly very helpful, if only because I'm far less inhibited with him than with others, but I find myself recycling the same familiar words and phrases with him. Occasionally we'll have a proper conversation over coffee and korvapuusteja, but who's got the time for that every single day?

People frequently advise me to do things. You know, join clubs or sports teams, take classes, expose myself to groups of people. I'm skeptical about this, though. Let's face it: I'm shy, they're shy, we're all shy. No one will make the first move. Even if I were to "put myself out there" and join something, I doubt that I'd gain many contacts.

Perhaps this is one of my fundamental flaws as an expat. It's very hard for me to envision having the constitution to seek out the human contact that I require.

Anyway, that brings me to a request. Or an offer? Or a suggestion. If you're in the Lappeenranta area, I invite you to contact me about meeting for coffee/beer/wine/whatever beverage. The only requirement is that you have the patience to deal with my less-than-fluent Finnish skills. Oh, and that you aren't a murderous rapist, but that probably goes without saying. 

Prude?

Snow's pretty, but I'm glad it's melting. 

Shortly before travelling to the US for the month of December, I visited the gynecologist. I'd been having some pain that I wanted to have checked before the trip. It would be my first experience with private medicine in Finland - which was, by the way, excellent.

The room was filled with light, friendly colors and equipped with an ultrasound. There was a small space surrounded by a curtain - a place to take your pants off in peace and privacy.

But that was seemingly where privacy ended.

In the states, a nurse asks you a few questions and leaves the room. You then take off all your clothes and slip into a hospital gown. You sit down on the exam table and drape a cloth over your lap. You wait for an unreasonably long time. Finally, the doctor knocks on the door. You say, "come in," and he or she enters. You lie down, covered from shoulder to knee, except, of course, for your lady parts.

In Finland, it went something like this: I took my pants off behind the curtain and walked pantsless to the exam table, where I realized that I'd forgotten to shed my underwear. Smooth. I quickly shimmied out of them and looked to fling them over to where my leggings were. Then, it occurred to me that a) it really was too far for an accurate shot and b) it would be kind of piggish to throw my panties around in the doctor's office. I got up, walked to the other side of the room, placed my underwear with my pants and walked back, naked from the waist down.

Must remember to take those off in the first place, I thought.

The exam began, and I thought of how superfluous the lap cloth used to feel. His/her hands are in my crotch, why should I cover the rest? But it turns out that the cloth has a very important function: to prevent you from feeling naked.

The service was incredible. I got an ultrasound right then and there and had the results explained to me in the process. (In the US, arranging this procedure would be far more difficult and convoluted.) My reproductive organs appeared to be in good working order, and I felt relieved.

After it was all over, I walked the length of the room pantsless for the fourth time. I dressed myself behind the curtain, had a few last words with the doctor and left.

As I walked out of the building, I couldn't help but laugh. Is this what it feels like to be an American in Europe? To have your sense of modesty impinged upon? And, then, the funniest thought of all: Am I a prude? Being awkward as hell (e.g. forgetting to take my underwear off) certainly did not help matters.

It was interesting to note just how naked I felt without that stupid cloth over my lap.

Hel

So, I discovered the root of one of my problems: I desperately needed to get out of Lappeenranta.

I've hung around Helsinki before, sometimes even for the length of a day, but I've always been fresh off the plane, sleepless and jet lagged. This marked my first time being in Helsinki while feeling well-rested.

When Rami and I arrived, it was snowing giant, wet snowflakes, the likes of which I hadn't seen since I was back in Connecticut.

We had a sushi lunch and went off exploring.

First, we stopped by the cathedral. What an organ!

After that, we went to Ateneum. I love museums. Any kind will do, really, but I think I especially love art museums. Science museums are a close second. Anyway, staring at some (predominantly Finnish) art was just what I needed. There's no better way to enter a culture than through its art.

So, we went from there to Kiasma, the contemporary art museum.

Modern art is usually a bit of a circle jerk, but it's almost always interesting.

In the evening, we went to Saslik, which I'd read about some time ago in the very useful blog, HelsinkiIn.*

Saslik did not disappoint. We had vodka:

blini:

and a kind waiter gave me a rose for naisten päivä. 

It was by far the most interesting day I've had in months. Thank you, Helsinki.

*Believe it or not, there is not one Russian restaurant in Lappeenranta. I suppose that's because Russian tourists aren't likely to be interested in eating food from their own culture? Still, it seems like at least one restaurant would've popped up through the process of cultural exchange, however fraught with conflict the relationship may be.

Honesty? Yes, please.

Wine and Cheese: two of life's simple joys

Regarding last post: I like honesty. That's a bit like saying, "I like pie" or "I like peace," but there you have it. I avoided posting for a while because anything I would have written would've been dishonest. The separation and uprootedness, the loneliness, the feeling of, "holy shitballs, what am I doing here?!" - all of it has been a fairly consuming part of my experience in the last couple of months. To have written much else would have been an exercise in deleting the largest part of the truth. Still, I didn't really want to admit the extent of my struggles publicly. "People aren't interested in that," I thought to myself.

The gravity of this monumental life change - this move to Finland - has begun to hit me rather hard, particularly as I witness things progressing at home, through Skype or Facebook or the news, without my participation. Watching everything unfold through a digital lens has been a blessing and a curse, both comforting and alienating. I am made aware of births, deaths, birthdays, dinners, parties, opinions on sequestration, movies watched, books read, places visited, storms, conflict, sickness, health...and so much more. I want to know about such things and maintain a connection to my old life, but perusing the broadcast over Facebook and Twitter makes me hunger for more. I want to see those hills up close. I want to make dinner and drink wine with people I love. I want to exist where I'm normal and average and unremarkable.

Viewing things through this selective digital lens also causes me to forget the reasons I moved away in the first place: life without Rami, awful healthcare, poor job prospects, etc. On the internet, life is exciting, happy and healthy, with the occasional tragedy. It is never boring, depressed, or lonely.

My motivation in sharing all this is to not fall victim to the syndrome that I know full well many of my connections on Facebook suffer from. You know, the need to paint life as one rosy, poignant, optimistic fun-fest. I don't believe that my writing will ever be criticized for being overly optimistic (it's not as if I've never complained about being homesick before), yet it has often skirted around the major problems that I face every day. Well, I'd like not to do that anymore. It's dishonest, and it's potentially harmful to those who might read this blog and think, "Well, look at her. She's doing just fine. What's wrong with me?" I'm not doing fine. I'm struggling to fit in, to integrate and to be happy. I suck at this. You now have my whole-hearted, genuine permission to look at me and feel superior.

(For more on Facebook exacerbating loneliness, check out this article.)

I don't want to overestimate my importance in the larger expat community. I'm but an intermittent, rambling presence in a sea of better things to read. Even so, it seems important to say this: if you're reading this and you're homesick, unsure of yourself, feeling low and wondering where to go from here, know that I am, too.

What am I doing to lift myself out of this funk? I've been looking for job and volunteer opportunities. I've been trying to stop hiding by going out to one of these two excellent coffee shops, or to this awesome wine bar, for example. I'm constantly searching for new music, my latest infatuation being with Efterklang (but I've been countering it with a lot of an older favorite, Type O Negative). Barring disasters or sudden busyness, I'll be taking a trip to Helsinki this weekend. I spend my days studying Finnish, reading English, and writing an 'erotic novel' (i.e. porn). Why that last thing? Because it amuses me. Deal with it.

In short, I've been hiding for too long, in real life as well as electronic life. Fuck that.