Somewhere between Homesick and Sick of Home

Last night, Rami and I went out with Annu, Harri, and their friend James. James, who is English and, you guessed it, teaches English, was kind enough to supply me some materials for my upcoming conversation class. Aside from talking shop, it was a very enjoyable night of drinking and laughing. I got a sense of Lappeenranta's nightlife, and I quite like it.

Anyway, somewhere in the course of the night I was asked whether or not I'm homesick. As it turns out, the answer to that question is a complex one. In short, I'm pretty much in love with Lappeenranta for its culture and lifestyle, and I do not particularly wish that I could go home permanently. At the moment. I've only been here a month, after all.

Despite that, however, I do feel a real, undeniable sense of having been uprooted. As I've written before, I had never before planned to leave the northwest Connecticut or western Massachusetts for too long. It's a beautiful place, and I had spent 26 years carving myself out of the material it provided for me. In other words, I really am a product of that place. It's not particularly cool to feel so inextricably connected to the place you grew up --especially when where you grew up was small town America -- but it's not something I can do much about. I know I'm supposed to want to get out and get the hell out. I'm a writer. I should forever seek that which is beyond my upbringing, or some such shit.

So what is it I miss about Barkhamsted, Colebrook, Winsted, etc.? I miss driving over the rolling hills, blasting distorted indie rock and roll with the windows down. I miss the Victorian houses, the factories which have fallen into total disrepair and have been forgotten by anyone other than people like me, who appreciate them for their ugliness. I miss seeing a temperate jungle everywhere I look, the result of Connecticut being one of the only places in the world with too many trees. I'll miss the cold, crisp fall, the Indian summer, the apple cider (as we Americans think of it) and the gaudy Halloween decorations.

Of course, more than any of those things, I miss my loved ones: Jimmy and me teasing our poor, long suffering mother relentlessly about poop and other nasty things; going to Dad's house for dinner every Friday night when most people in their late-mid-twenties either go out drinking and carousing or stay home with their young children; all-you-can-eat sushi with Jimmy at Toshi's where we eat literally as much as our stomachs can hold; wine and pasta with Mom and Rob; going to wineries and bars with Melis where we have no regard for decorum, not because we've had too much to drink but because it's in our nature to be bawdy; talking with Gram over minestrone made with fresh garden vegetables and encounters with whichever family members happen to drop in; meals with Ali; conversations with Jessie; late night wandering with Craig; dinners with my siblings. In other words, I miss my strong, irreplaceable social network.

In a way, though, I feel as if it is my life's charge at the moment to survive without all the people and things I've mentioned here. I've been too dependent on the comfort and familiarity of Connecticut. It's time to give it all up for a while, for the purpose of a new life here in Finland where numerous possibilities exist. Not the least of these is my integration with the people here, all of whom seek to help me at every opportunity.

I'm sorry that this post is dripping with sentimentality. I suppose I feel a little sentimental lately. I think, given the circumstances, that's excusable.

Work and Play

I interviewed for the Finnish class on Monday. I was inexplicably and irrationally nervous about it, but it was brief and fairly relaxed. We laughed about my pitiful Finnish abilities, and discussed my future plans. I revealed that I have a working husband and a (very) part time job already. I have a feeling that my lack of financial desperation will preclude my participation in this course, but I'm okay with that. I will learn Finnish one way or another, and it might as well be in a more relaxed environment. The only problem is the speed with which I will pick it up if I'm only attending class once or twice a week. I guess I'll have to use class time as a template for studying at home.

But, nothing's certain yet.

Yesterday, I spoke to my new boss regarding the English conversation course I'll be teaching. I'll have a great deal of freedom as far as what we discuss and what kinds of articles or supplementary materials I can use. The main thing I'll need to do is cater to student needs and interests. So far, however, I have no idea what those might be. They're very advanced students, but there will likely be some variation in skill level among them. The trick will be to make them feel comfortable speaking English in the confines of our classroom so that they will become more comfortable speaking it in everyday situations. I've been having a lot of fun coming up with my first lesson plan, which involves a lot of "getting to know you" types of activities that hopefully will spur conversation. I'm really looking forward to it.

On a slightly touristy note, Rami and I went to two particularly cool places today. First, we bought some smoked salmon at the local kauppahalli (literally "market hall"). They have all sorts of vendors in there, selling imported goods, fresh meats, cheeses, and fish, as well as clothing, handbags and the like. We'll definitely be going back.

Then, we went to a place called Antikvariaatti Suma, a veritable nerd paradise. They sell used games, CDs, DVDs, and shelves and shelves full of old books and comics. If I spoke Finnish, I'd probably have spent a year browsing in there. This is another place that we'll have to spend more time exploring.

I love getting to know the city a little better. Someday, it'll properly become my city.

Immigrant

I received a letter a couple of days ago. It said that I'd be expected at an examination for the intensive Finnish course I hope to take.

I didn't really know what to expect. The employment office had said nothing about "testing" when I was there applying for the course. They mentioned an interview, for which I have an appointment on Monday, but nothing about this. I was a little nervous.

Rami and I arrived at his alma mater, which was also where the testing would take place, this morning at 9:00 sharp. There were roughly 100 people crammed into a small hallway near the auditorium. Most spoke Russian. Then, a woman began addressing us in Finnish and calling us by name into the auditorium. I was afraid that she wouldn't speak in anything but Finnish and that I'd fail to understand some crucial thing. This wasn't the case, though. When we were all seated, she began to address us in three languages: Finnish, English, and Russian. She seemed adept, perhaps even fluent, in all three.

I don't think I did very well on the test, which I suppose is a good thing in terms of getting into this course. Of the more than 100 people who applied, only 28 will be chosen. On what criteria I'm not really sure, though I guess it has something to do with need. I felt so inept and stupid, though, since a lot of the Russians around me seemed a little more comfortable with the material. Rami suspects they've been in the country for a while and have thus learned more Finnish.

It's a unique and strange experience for me, not being totally proficient in the language that surrounds me. I cannot speak for myself, I cannot understand through my own efforts. I'm truly an immigrant. It's frustrating, to say the least. In fact, I don't even belong to the immigrant community, since even they tend to share a common culture and can therefore stand in unity while immersed in a foreign one.

But, whether I get into the course or not, there's only one thing to do, and that is to try my best. In all things Finnish.

Miscellaneous

Here are some updates:

1) After two and a half weeks of being here, I have a job teaching an English conversation course. It seems there's a pretty significant need for English teachers here, particularly for conversation courses. This is probably because lots of Finns have a good academic understanding of English, but no forum in which to practice.

I'm immeasurably lucky that English is my native language and that English is currently the lingua franca. I come to appreciate this more with each step I take towards assimilation here in Finland.

2) I received a call today from a nurse at the neurologist's office. I have two free months of my medication waiting for me there. I am as thankful and as shocked as can be. I'm not used to benevolent doctor's offices bestowing charity on me. Rather, I'm used to assholes who ignore me and wrong me and make grievous errors, all at huge expense. Thank you, nurse, and thank you, Finland. You have given me the best sort of culture shock.

3) Rami and I were approached by two Mormons on the street today. Rami says he's seen a lot of Mormons here over the years, and that they always appear in pairs. They looked very, very young, and they're no doubt Americans on a mission. From the little snippet of religious babble we heard one of them speak, it seemed as if he spoke Finnish pretty decently. I wondered if maybe I should have been a Mormon missionary and taken advantage of their language training.

I regret not saying, "Hello, I'm American, too!" Surely two kids here on their own, enduring scowls and rude brush offs day after day would appreciate seeing and hearing someone from their homeland. I decided against it, though, because I didn't want to encourage them to pursue my conversion. My heart is as hard as a rock and a hard place. Still, I can't help feeling that my reasoning was, forgive me, "unchristian." If I see them again, I'll give them some love from an eastern elitist.

Verve

I named this blog after a dreamy psychedelic shoegaze tune by The Verve (then simply called Verve).



I heard this song on Pandora years ago, and it led me to discover the beautiful and surreal album on which it can be found, A Storm in Heaven.

I chose it primarily because of how anxious I was to arrive here in Finland; I was still mired in schoolwork and I felt weighted by countless unfulfilled obligations. In a word, I was restless. "Already There" seemed to describe my state-of-mind with a certain precision.

Now that I'm here, it's the music rather than the title that seems to encapsulate things, namely the utter surreality of my life. I had other plans, other ideas, other goals and other values not two years ago. My life is wholly different than I ever imagined it would be at this or any other point in my life. In a sense, I feel as if I haven't affected this reality whatsoever, and that I'm just surfing a current of random chance. Of course, that's completely false, but knowledge of my own action doesn't lessen this surreal feeling. For the last week or so, I've been reveling in the odd limbo in which I'm floating now.

There's a note of bitter somewhere in the midst of all that sweet, but it's okay.