I've Always Wondered How to Marry a Finnish Girl

Nah, I haven't. I managed to snag a male Finn, and that's quite enough for me at the moment. My husband apparently had some trouble with this task himself, however, as he had to dip into the genetically inferior pool of eligible American woman in order to find a lady.

This book is rather harsh on Finnish men, and on Finns in general. It espouses the usual stereotypes and covers very little intellectual property that hasn't already been rightfully claimed by Roman Schatz . The author seems to think that the book's acerbic tone is some sort of novelty -- as if there hasn't ever before been someone with the guts to call the Finns out on their cold weather, hot women, bad food, and propensity toward alcoholism. Wow, if only some foreigner would comment on Finnish culture with a caustic yet affectionate affectation. It's been done before, thanks.

The book is funny, though. It has a lot of very decent witticisms and jabs that are both humorous and insightful. The thing is, that's all this book really manages to be; in fact, a large portion of the book is interrupted by a series of Schwarzmann's tweets. I don't have a problem with that method per se, but the book's cohesive vision, while present, is pretty damn dull and unoriginal. Given this overarching flaw, I'd think it would behoove Phil Schwarzmann to weave his best jokes into the narrative, to the extent that there is one, rather than to sling them at us one by one, hoping they'll impress us.

I don't know. My perspective is different than Schwarzmann's. For one thing, I'm what he claims is an anomaly -- I'm a woman of some first-world descent who moved here for love. I mean, Finnish women are intelligent, strong, and physically attractive whereas Finnish men are drunk, socially inept, and emotionally unavailable. If one is to move to Finland for love (or sex) it's more likely to be for a woman (and not a man), right? God, could those stereotypes be any older?

Whatever. Listen, Schwarzmann, I'll give you what I think I owe you: Finnish women are some beautiful, high caliber women. Finnish culture is idiosyncratic and worth writing about. Winter is inevitably sucky. The True Finns are weird. [Hey, are they really any more racist than the American Republicans?] You're a funny guy. Maybe your next book will be a little more "novel." Don't actually write a novel, though.

And I'm just glad I figured out How to Marry a Finnish Boy.

Learning

I wasn't always a good student. Much of my time in primary and secondary school was spent avoiding homework and focusing on my burgeoning musical career. I wasn't wholly terrible; I did excel in a few subjects, like reading and writing. Actually, I think it was the relative ease with which I could read and write that saved me from a "doomed-to-be-special" academic career. And, believe me, some of it was very "special" indeed. It was thought that I had a learning disability in math, and I was treated (and educated) accordingly. I spent the first twenty years of my life believing that I was utterly incapable of mathematical thought. When I finally entered college, I figured out that was far from true. The story of how I came to be thought of as a special ed. student is way too long to recount and is fraught with dull, childhood-in-the-first-world trauma. And it isn't really want I want to talk about. The important thing is that, once I was twenty-one and finally in college, I learned that all one really needs to do if one wants to learn math is to practice.   In fact, one doesn't even need to practice all that much. One simply needs to do her homework.

I admit it. It wasn't until college that I truly learned how to learn. The do-your-work principle applies to most if not all disciplines, and I discovered, much to my delight, that I could master things to which I dedicated some effort. It wasn't just the result that delighted me about this new approach, though; as it turned out, I also came to love the process of learning itself. I mean, think about it: things that initially seemed impossible become effortless through the simple act of thinking, and thinking is something we humans are notoriously good at. What could be simpler? I still can't believe I thought things were otherwise for so many years.

I'm proud to say that I graduated college with a 3.93 GPA, and that not one math class contributed to its imperfection. Yes, I went to a state school, but I think that my score would have been comparable at nearly any other university. I attribute my success to that precious realization that most things don't come automatically -- we're not born with a priori knowledge that can be merely awakened with one glance at a blackboard. Even the most intelligent among us must do some amount of thinking in order to attain knowledge. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. If I could upload information from a USB stick directly into my brain, I'd be hesitant to... yeah, okay, that would be pretty cool.

But seriously, the act of learning is one of the most pleasurable in existence.

Why am I going on about this? Well, I just came home from Finnish class, during which our teacher asked us to write sentences using some of the verbs that we know. I began with simple constructions, all of which were correct, so I went on to explore more complex sentences. The teacher came by to point out my mistakes, I corrected them, and I'll try never to make them again.

We spent about 45 minutes doing this. It was a little like I had fallen asleep and missed a good 40 of those minutes, since it seemed to me that I'd only done five or ten minutes of work. But then it was time to go, so I packed up my things and walked home. On my way, I realized that I had never known just how interesting, how stimulating, how absolutely fascinating studying a foreign language can be, and that I'd probably love to take this class even if it weren't essential to my integration.

We're cheated out of so many things in the US, and one is good foreign language training. Sure, I studied German in high school, but I learned almost nothing. Since I hadn't yet learned how to learn, I didn't do much studying outside of class and, in class, well, let's just say we ate bratwurst and watched Das Boot with subtitles far more than we spoke German.

I think after I learn an acceptable amount of Finnish, I'll try my hand at German. If I can learn Finnish, how hard can it be to learn a little Deutsch? 

Viikonloppu

I'm listening to music loudly in a pair of earbuds while my husband naps. In the hopes of making myself useful, I thought I'd discuss some of the mundane details that one inevitably notices when moving from one country to another.

1) Don't get caught bringing your produce to the checkout without first weighing it. This is a pleasantly do-it-yourself society after all, and what could be easier than putting your bananas on a nearby scale, pressing the appropriate button, and putting a barcoded price sticker on them? [I have noticed this trend catching on back home -- certain Stop & Shops now seem to have scales that print price stickers in the produce section, and there are of course the self-checkout lines, but if you really insist on having someone weigh your fruits and veggies for you, you still have that option in the states.]

2) The vast majority of cashiers I've seen are allowed to sit while they work. In the US (or, at least the northeastern US) they're not provided with chairs, and must therefore stand for hours at a time. I pointed this out to Rami and he simply asked, "Why?" Well, I'm not really sure, but I think it has to do with a bizarrely zealous customer service ethic. Do they look like they're working harder if they're standing? I mean, we consumers certainly can't abide slackers while we're purchasing our Cheetos and Mountain Dew. Then again, it's equally possible that a standing-only policy is a way to save on the cost of chairs.

Land of the corns and home of the bunions.

3) Finns tell time in a way that might seem slightly backward to English speakers. If it's 8:00, they'll say, "Kello on kahdeksan," or "Kello on tasan kahdeksan," which means just what what you'd expect: "It is 8 o'clock." (Literally, it means "Clock is eight.") For the first half of the hour, they'll say the time in the form of how many minutes past the hour it is. (8:20 = kaksikymmentä (minuuttia) yli kahdeksan.) In the second half of the hour, they'll express it in terms of how many minutes there are until the next hour (8:45 = viisitoista vaille yhdeksän.) Literally speaking they'll say "20 after 8" or "15 before 9."

 Of course, it's certainly not out of the ordinary to speak this way colloquially in English -- we'll say "It's 15 minutes to 9, dear!" or "Oh my, it's 20 after 8!" quite frequently. What is unusual, for me at least, is to do so all the time. I sometimes find it a little muddling, but that's exactly what Finnish class is for.

4) Lappeenranta is concise in a way that small cities simply are not back in Connecticut. Since Rami and I live keskustassa (in the center), we're within walking distance from most important things. You'd think having a car would afford you more freedom, but I have found that quite the opposite is true. I love not having that particular set of worries. The repairs, keeping the tank full, parking -- I could definitely go the rest of my life without owning a car.


That's all I can think of for now. I'll report more boring details as I think of them.

As for me, my stomach is much better, Finnish class is still wonderfully beneficial, and I'm in the process of a really pleasant weekend. I currently have no complaints.

October First

Today being an overcast and autumnal Saturday, Rami and I went out early in the afternoon to snap some photos. We walked to the harbor, had a quick lunch at Kasino (where they were serving a lot of pork -- my stomach cannot tolerate carbohydrates at the moment, so I had to forgo the potatoes), and headed to the fortress, where fall is not quite yet at its peak.

When we got a little chilly (it was pretty windy), we went in to have a coffee at Kahvila Majurska. There were quite a lot of tourists around. I suppose the beauty of all those deciduous trees turning colors up on the fortress hill is a draw, but it was surprising to see it just as bustling up there as it was in summertime. I should probably assume that they were there for the same reasons Rami and I were there. Fall is awesome. It's unique in that I dread its onset (since that means winter is coming, and I'm typically not eager to relinquish sunlight and warm temperatures) but when it's here, it's a time I enjoy as much as any other -- maybe more.

Maybe it's because where I'm from, autumn is sort of a, forgive me, "hallowed" time. It's the harvest. It's the time of pumpkin pie, Halloween and Thanksgiving, of lame country fairs and even lamer hayrides, corn mazes, apple cider, and freakishly large root vegetables with prize ribbons pinned on them. It's the time in which you stock up on joy and leisure before winter sucks the fun out of most things. The air is crisp and cold, yet not yet bitter. Most years, the trees are on fire with color; we're all very proud of the leaf display, yet we grumble when out-of-staters come to enjoy it and get hopelessly in our way.

Even in listing these things, there is something ineffable about what makes autumn special to us New Englanders, an I'm failing to capture it. The point, though, is that I've somehow begun to feel more at home here. The air is just as crisp and just as cool; the fallen leaves smell the same; the hot coffee tastes just as good; the leaves are more the color of rust than of fire, but that has its own seasonal charm. In some strange way, the commencement of autumn has given me a stronger connection to home. And I don't think the Finns view fall in quite such celebratory terms, but that won't stop me from enjoying it enough to account for everyone.

Looks like I got all sentimental again. I need to inject some humor into this blog. I'll work on it.

Life's Little Challenges

Here's the predictable and obligatory apology for not having written in a few weeks: I'm sorry that I haven't written, that is, if you've been waiting to hear from me. If you haven't, well, then, I'm not quite as sorry.


My mind has been sort of all-consumed with thoughts of the Finnish language, of efforts to integrate into this really beautiful, efficient-yet-compassionate society, and with thoughts of my stomach. Or, more precisely, my digestive tract. You see, for about three weeks now (perhaps a little more) I've been unable to "stomach" much food. I'm eating lots of yogurt and probiotic pills in the hopes that I won't need to see a doctor. Finnish doctors are lovely, but they're still doctors, and I'm frightened of what they'll do to me in the name of diagnostics. Things have been improving in the last few days, so we'll see.

As for Finnish class, I'm pleased to report that I seem to be doing very well in it. It's terribly unhip to admit this, but there's just something about a structured classroom setting that really allows me to absorb information. To have it all explained, to practice speaking and understanding in the comfort of something that isn't yet quite the real world, to then go home and have Rami help me out with a few things -- it's all pretty ideal. I'm sort of shocked at the speed with which I have picked things up in the last three weeks. I mean, of course, I have many, many, billions of kilometers to go, but this really is a decent start.

And I'm proud to officially announce that: minä puhun vähän suomea.

Now It's Begun

Last Wednesday, I received a text message notifying me that I'd gotten into another beginner's Finnish class comparable to the one I'd first applied for. We started today, and it seems really perfect; it's 2.5 hours, 5 days a week (as opposed to 7) and so far I'm enjoying it. Relatedly, I've never been in a situation wherein I'm one of so many Elenas and Jelenas.

 The best thing to come of this is that I feel like I'm doing something. I'm getting out of the house, I'm walking by myself the (very) short distance to class, and I'm learning something which is both intensely interesting and crucially important to my life's trajectory.

During my last weekend as a woman free from scholastic obligations, Rami and I went to Muikku ja Pottu Kalamarkkinat, or "The Vendace and Potato Fish Markets." (Yeah, it may lose something in translation).

Here in Lappeenranta, vendors come from all over Finland to sell trinkets, candy and, of course, fish and potatoes. In the crisp, early autumn air, it was an experience very reminiscent of fall fairs like those back home in New England. We had a great time eating, browsing wares, and buying honey from Lapland and salmon that we had watched being flamed to perfection.







 So, overall, life in Finland has been good.

Not Much

Not much has been happening. I'm in limbo, and don't have much to do. My English class was cancelled due to low enrollment (or, rather, it will very likely be cancelled), I was deemed "not-Russian-enough" for the Finnish class (I'm joking!), and I'm left sort of twiddling my thumbs, waiting for my life to begin. Although Rami and I have plenty of fun together, I'm getting very restless and very bored.

 After discussing this dilemma with my dad a bit, he suggested that empty times like these are precisely what college is for; you learn the discipline necessary to accomplish tasks without someone hovering over you as they did in preschool. Since I have all this free time, it's up to me to fill it with important and meaningful things. What have I been doing, then? Well, I've been writing. Since arriving in Finland, I hadn't written much other than this blog -- certainly no fiction -- and I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever open my word processor again. I just felt so empty, a direct result of my empty days. The trick with writing is, though, you can pick it up feeling "uninspired" and most of the time you'll manage to get something on the page. It might not be any good, but at least you can scrap it later when something decent begins to materialize. I've made it my "assignment" to write at least a page a day. I've got some good stuff cooking, I must say.

 The other major project I've got going is studying Finnish here at home. I was actually pretty vigilant about studying it when I got here, but after taking the placement test for that class I became really discouraged. I mean, I did so horribly. It was abysmal. No one seemed terribly surprised by this given the short time I've been in the country, but I felt as if all the work I'd done in the weeks prior had been for nothing. At that point, I gave up. "Guess I can't do this on my own," I thought. But, since I don't know when my next opportunity to take a Finnish course will be, I feel as if I have no real choice. Okay, so maybe it'll be slow going here at home without the best resources and the knowledge of an instructor, but what else can I do? It can't hurt (anything other than my ego).