Sunny Summer Sunday

Sunday, I had a list:  Finnish homework, history paper, grocery shopping, church at 4.  Finnish homework was done, lunch eaten, and I looked out the window.  The sky was blue, not a cloud in sight.  It was too pretty to stay inside, let alone worry about lists.

I put on a sundress- after all, I probably wouldn't be getting many more chances to wear one here in the cold north, and headed to the riverfront walking path, stopping to take photos as I went.

Summer's Last Wish

Opposite the cathedral, the walking path continues along the river through downtown Turku.  When I reached the public library, I made a detour inside.  Browsing their English section makes me happy- volumes of unknown friends, waiting to be discovered.  Saramago's Blindness checked out on their self-serve scanner, I headed back out to see what I could see.

Turku Cathedral

Beautiful architecture

 Such a perfect day deserved an ice cream cone, and besides, I needed to practice my Finnish.  The little things in life- like ordering in Finnish and having the cashier respond in Finnish- make my day.  It was almost time for church, so I went off in search of the building.  I found it 15 minutes earlier than the service began, and St. Michael's beckoned only a few blocks away.  I hurried over to snap a few photos while the sky was still a perfect blue, then headed back to the International Service.

Ice cream by the Aura River

St Michael's Church

I didn't realize how much I'd missed church until I was there, with my brothers and sisters, worshipping our Savior.  The Christian faith was meant to be lived in community, and until Sunday, I hadn't had that here, so to be reminded I'm not alone here was a blessing.  It was a little congregation- I don't think there were more than 20 of us, but everyone was so friendly and welcoming.  I love when you walk into a church and it feels like home.  I stayed and chatted after the service til nearly 7, when I gave my number to one of the women I'd been chatting with and saw I'd missed a text from a friend- they were meeting at 6, did I want to join them?  Oops!  I called him back, and fortunately they were only a few blocks away, having a picnic by the river.

As we caught the last rays of summer sunshine, a hot air balloon drifted overhead.  I don't think I'd ever seen one so low before.  We could hear the roar of the flame as they lifted higher and see them waving to us.  I just might have to add "ride in a hot air balloon" to my list of things to do while I'm here, and fortunately for me, I've got the website right here in the photo.

By nine o'clock it was a bit too chilly to stay outside, so we headed back to Nancy and Chisako's where the night would not have been complete without a multi-national singing of "Finlandia" accompanied by ukulele.

I couldn't have asked for a better day. 

And it's one, two, three strikes you're out. . .

Today I played Finnish baseball.  If you know me at all, you know that's stepping outside my comfort zone.  Sports and I have a long term enmity, that only slightly improved in Colombia, and pretty much only in relation to soccer.

But, learning the game was part of the social agenda, and who wants to sit at home by themselves on a sunny Friday afternoon anyway?  So, off to the park I went.

Baseball is one of the few sports that I know enough of the rules to that I can actually play the game, so I was feeling confident that at least it wouldn't be too confusing.  I was in for a surprise.  Chisako, a student from Japan, was an exchange student here before. "The balls are like tennis balls" she told us.  We all looked at her skeptically.  "Ok, maybe not", she back pedaled.  When we got to the field though, we found out she was right- the balls look a lot like tennis balls, heavier though, and without the bounce.  The catcher's mitt is different too.  We warmed up with a bit of throwing and catching, nothing too surprising there, but then, as our instructor got us ready to start batting, the first really big change caught me by surprise.  The pitcher stands right next to the batting mound and pitches straight up.  You hit the ball on it's way back down.  It sounds particularly easy, and it is easier than regular pitching in a baseball game, but the complexity of timing the horizontal movement of the bat with the vertical movement of the ball was a bit beyond my eye-hand coordination (or mental physics ability)

With everyone more or less comfortable with batting, the instructor walked us over to the field and proceeded to explain how you have 3 swings at the ball, when you hit it you run, blah, blah, blah. . . I thought I knew what was coming. But no.  Drop the bat and run clockwise.  As in, towards third base, if this were American baseball.  All my preconceived notions of "baseball" were shaken.  And from there, it only got stranger.  At that point I was anticipating a reverse baseball diamond, but instead, you zig-zag up the field, then across the field, and finally home.

The Finnish baseball field

Sure I was probably going to run the wrong direction when it was my turn to bat, I tried to erase all my preconceived notions of baseball and remind myself that this was, after all, a different game.  In the outfield we learned of yet another difference from American baseball- if you catch the ball before it's touched the ground, the player gets sent back, but he doesn't get an out for his team.  As the other team hit, we learned more rules as we went along- the hitter isn't really happy with how far he hit the ball on his first swing?  Fine, he still has 2 more swings left.  Missed the ball all three times?  Run anyway and hope the pitcher doesn't get you out before you make first base.

Eventually I made it up to bat.  I frowned and rolled my eyes a bit as I stepped up to the plate.  Just another chance to show off my incompetence when it comes to sports.  But you know what?  Despite my initial lack of enthusiasm (and complete lack of self confidence), I actually had fun, scored some runs for my team, and learned something new about Finland.

Running home

Shutter Island revisited

Have you ever watched the movie Shutter Island?  It takes place on an island with a hospital for the mentally ill- it’s an eerie movie, that only gets creepier as it goes on.  That movie was in the back of my mind (and I wasn’t the only one) on our trip on Saturday. 

View from the ferry on the way to the island

It was a grey, rainy day. Umbrellas out, raincoats zipped, our group huddled around our guide. “We’re going to walk around 1 kilometer, along the way I’ll tell you the history of the island.” Other than our group and the one group behind us, the island was deserted. It’s an isolated place- to arrive, we’d driven by bus for about an hour outside of Turku, then taken a ferry to a slightly larger island, driven a bit further, and then taken a 25 minute ferry ride across the Baltic sea. We’d passed small islands, isolated summer cottages, pleasure boats. But that was now. In the 21st century. Back in the 17th century when Seili first became home to a leper colony, and later an insane asylum, Seili would have been an almost forgotten place, difficult to reach, and difficult to leave. Even into the 20th century it remained cut off form the outside world- news of Finland’s independence in 1917 didn’t reach Seili until weeks later.

“The original buildings that the patients slept in were made of wood, and none have survived”, our guide told us.  She proceeded to tell us a story of inhuman living conditions- rooms with tiny windows that were left closed so “patients” wouldn’t escape, a decreasing supply of wood on the island that meant freezing winters without enough wood to heat all the buildings thoroughly, patients who could be trusted to leave their rooms wandering the island naked in the summers since they weren’t provided with enough clothing and were saving what they did have for the cold winter.  No doctor lived on the island at this “hospital” for the mentally ill.  There were nurses, but the only treatments they provided were sedatives and “ice helmets” to calm the agitated. 

Our tour took us to a yellow, solid looking building where we stopped.  It was the more modern hospital, built to improve living conditions in the 1800s.  When Russia took over Finland in the 1800s, and the Czar received a report on the island, he ordered changes and a modern hospital building was constructed.  Life was slightly better for the patients there, but they were still often kept in solitary confinement in rooms just 1.8 meters by 2 meters square. 

As we walked further down the path through a copse of trees, our guide reminded us that Finland is rising from the sea.  There used to be a bridge connecting this side of Seili to the other, which used to be a distinct island.  From the early 1600s through the late 1700s, lepers were sent to live on the leper colony of Seili.  No one really knew anything about the disease, and it was feared, so lepers were exiled.  Food was delivered to them across the bridge, and there were church services on the island (lepers had to enter through a separate door and sat in a segregated area at the back so they wouldn’t come in contact with anyone else) but that’s the only contact the lepers ever had with the outside world.  People feared the disease so much that the bell tower was built detached from the church so that they could find someone willing to ring the bells without fearing contagion from leprosy.

The section of the church where the lepers sat.

The graveyard behind the church is a sad place.  Maybe a dozen wooden crosses tilt haphazardly.  All of those who died on the island, both lepers and mental patients, were buried here, but no one ever replaced the grave markers as they decayed over time.  Where a dozen crosses now stand, perhaps as many as 1000 people are buried. 

The feeling of melancholy and isolation are hard to shake.  It’s hard enough to imagine being one of the researchers living on the island today (they are conducting marine biology research and have converted the former mental hospital into a research station).  But it’s even harder to imagine living there centuries ago, surrounded by misery, and so distant from the outside world.  One of the directors of the mental institution went mad himself, and was committed as a patient by the courts to the hospital where he himself had one been the director.  He’s buried there in the graveyard, but out of deference to his former position, he’s buried with the staff and an iron cross bears his name.

A study in contrasts

I've only been here just over a week, so I still don't have a great grasp on everything that goes on here, but here are some things I've noticed (and how they compared to Bogotá)

It rains frequently here and in Bogotá.  Here though, (so I've heard at least) there's a saying "There's no such thing as bad weather.  Just bad clothing".  I saw that first hand today.  Walking home from town, it started to drizzle.  I passed a playground, and instead of being deserted there was a mom and her 2 children, about 18 months and 3 years old, playing out on the swing set.  Both kids were dressed in complete rain suits- rain coats and rain pants.  Rain in Bogotá, on the other hand, snarls traffic, making it take longer to get anywhere. It's almost a good "get out of jail free card"- if you show up late and it was raining, chances are you're not the only one.  Whatever you were going to might have even started late due to the rain.  And in general, if you live in Bogotá and it's raining and you have a choice, you just stay inside.  

Speaking of traffic- there is none here.  There are a couple of "major" roads that run through the city and might back up a bit at the lights during heavily trafficked hours, but that's about it.  If I take the bus here, I can get from the city center to my house on the outskirts of the city in 15 minutes. In Bogotá, I once ended up 2 hours late to a party (granted, I left a half hour later than I should have) because the traffic was just that bad.  Sunday night taxi to my house from the 127?  20 minutes.  Monday morning bus ride to the same location? 1 hour.

And buses- It's interesting to me.  Everything here is so organized, but I have to admit, I liked the Bogotá version better.  I suppose one benefit of a large city is there are more people to move, entailing more frequent buses.  If I waited more than 2 minutes in Bogotá, I started to feel like complaining that my bus was taking a long time.  Unless I was taking a not too common route, I rarely waited much more than 5.  Buses only pass every 20 minutes here (at least the route to my house).  There's a schedule that shows at what time they'll leave the market square, and they actually stick to it, something I can't imagine in Bogotá. You wait at a bus stop and can use cash or a bus card to pay when you get on.  In Bogotá you could flag down a bus anywhere.  The neatest thing about the system here is they give you a receipt, and that receipt is good for any in-city bus for the next 2 hours, so if you are running multiple errands, or have to transfer, you only have to pay once. (Of course, you're paying close to the equivalent of $3.30.  In Bogotá it was closer to 75 cents)

Walking here is a pleasure.  There are walking/cycling paths all over.  My favorite path, that takes me from my apartment to the center of campus in about 30 minutes, follows the river most of the way.  Snails crawl across the path, trees are on both sides of me.  Cyclists pass me and people out walking their dogs are everywhere.  It's quiet and peaceful, and for most of the path, you can't even see the city. I loved walking in Bogotá too, but for different reasons.  The streets were full of hustle and bustle- street vendors with 50 cent snacks, Ecuadorian women with their racks of $5 sweaters, beggars, the homeless, business men in a hurry to be somewhere, masses of people.  There was always something to watch; here, it's peaceful, but the streets seem so empty to me.  

There are a million other differences, some I've noticed, some I haven't seen yet, but a post with a million paragraphs would put us all to sleep, so I'll save some more observations for another day.  

Not all those who wander are lost

Today was a perfect day, too beautiful to spend all of it indoors.  I decided to wander downtown and see what I could find.  Maybe I would stop by Kupittaa park for the concert that was going on.  Or buy a cell phone.  Or see if I could find the church that said it "usually" translated services into English on its website.

Turku is a beautiful city for walking in.  Beautiful pedestrian and bike paths follow the curves of the Aura river.

From the walking path along the river

This view of the cathedral comes from a wooden boardwalk bordering the river.

After a long walk along the river, I finally made it downtown.  Good thing my main goal was just to enjoy the day, since all the shops were closed once I finally made it downtown.  I suppose the cell phone will have to wait for another day.

Such a quiet city

Riverboat restaurants and bars are popular in the downtown section.

Feeling tired after all my walking, I decided to head back to my apartment.  I sat in front of the Cathedral and looked at the map.  I knew how to get from the Cathedral to the university, and I know how to get from the university to my apartment, but surely there was a direct route back to my apartment without detouring to the university.  It didn't help that my apartment is farther north than the map goes.  I thought I knew the way though, and set off.  I passed 3 or 4 second hand shops in a row and made a mental note, then noticed a grocery store that was still open and ran in for some things I'd forgotten.  When I came out, I realized that if I really had chosen the right direction, I should be arriving at something familiar by now.  Instead, a large park was just in front of me.  Crossing the street to get to it, I stopped in shock.  I was at Kupittaa park, the exact opposite direction of where I wanted to be.  I was tired and needed some water, but I was so far from home at this point, I decided I might as well at least check the park out.  One live band was playing at the main stage, while another was setting up on a side stage.  I laid out my blanket and enjoyed the atmosphere for awhile, before my headache from not drinking enough got the best of me and I went in search of water.  

Mostly, I haven't really used Finnish outside of Finnish class.  Other than the perfunctory "hei" (hi) and "kiitos" (thanks), the honest truth is that taking a bus or buying groceries doesn't really require talking.  But here I was, in a park, no grocery store, only vendors.  So, I practiced once or twice for good measure and then walked up to the girl "Paljonko vesi maaksa?" (How much does the water cost?") I asked. . . And glorious day!  She answered me!  In Finnish!  And I understood!  It's really the first time that I've attempted something other than "hello" or "thank you" outside of class and been understood the first time around.  And, usually, as soon as anyone realizes Finnish is not my first language, they switch to English immediately (It's kind of annoying, actually).  So for me, this was big.  Of course, then she proceeded to ask me in Finnish if I wanted it with or without bubbles, and my vocab isn't nearly that good yet, so I had to abashedly tell her I didn't understand, at which point the conversation did switch to English, but hey, at least I did the first part in Finnish.  

By this point it was after 7:30 and I was a good hour's walk away from my apartment if I walked straight there and didn't get lost along the way, so I decided to take the bus.  The good thing about buses in Turku is that they all (I think) go through the market square at some point, so all I had to do was get a bus headed the right direction, get off at market square, and grab my bus home.  The bad thing about buses in Turku is that they don't run frequently.  I must have just missed my bus by minutes when I got to the square, because the next one wasn't scheduled for another 20 minutes.  But, another plus for Turku is that it is safe and quiet, so I pulled out my kindle to read (something I never would have done in downtown Bogota) and before I knew it, I was home and cooking dinner for one.

This is Finland

A stand of birch rose from the little hill, cutting across the water of the Baltic Sea behind it.  The wooden cabin off to its right looked inviting, especially after having dodged rain showers off and on all afternoon.   As inviting as it looked however, we couldn't go in yet.  We were conscripted into the "Finnish Olympics" ice breaker games.  While my team did not excel at boot throwing, we were pretty awesome in the timed sack racing, showed off our skills on a Finnish culture quiz, and managed not to quite tumble in a rather dizzying relay race.

Warmed up from the games and glass of wine in hand, we headed down to the porch surrounding the cabin to enjoy the view while we waited for dinner.  The water looked calm and flat as a lake.  A small island nestled a cabin among the pines, while you could see pine covered shores, cabins peeking out almost  surrounding the water.  The only give-away that this was actually on the Baltic Sea, and not a lake, was the giant ferry that passed by, carrying passengers from Sweden to Finland.

Dinner was ready and we filed in, serving ourselves sausages cooked on the grill, potato salad (with pickle chunks.  It was really yummy), salad, and bread and butter.  I sat next to Pirta, my student tutor, who's a Finn, so she know's what she's talking about.  "These sausages" she said, "that's the real Finnish summer food"  Most Finns take their 4 weeks vacation in July at summer cottages where they alternate between swimming, sauna, eating, and sleeping (I think there's usually some drinking involved too).

Still enjoying my second plate of food, Lisa came in to tell us that the sauna was ready for the girls.  The heat that greeted me as I walked in was so great that it burned the inside of my nose.  "You have to breathe through your mouth" I was advised.  "It's probably around 80 degrees" (celcius, I might add.  Or, 176 degrees fahrenheit.  Not hot enough to boil water, but plenty hot that when my earrings that I'd forgotten to take out brushed my shoulder they burned) When the heat got to be too much for me, I headed outside and gingerly stepped down the ladder into the water.  As my toes dipped into the water I slowed down.  As hot as it was in the sauna, I'm too much of a wimp to just jump in.  Slowly, carefully, I eased into the water.  We chatted as we treaded water, enjoying the refreshingly cool water once we were used to it.  Tired out from swimming, and starting to get a bit chilly, I repeated the whole process over again.  Three times in the sauna and 3 dips in the sea, and it was time to shower and change so the boys could have their chance. (Finnish saunas are typically experienced naked, thus the lack of mixed sauna going.  Being as most of us are new to this, and not nearly as comfortable as sitting around naked with near strangers as your average Finn must be, the majority of us opted for swimsuits)

Feeling spectacular after my sauna experience, we headed inside for an evening of dessert, conversation, and tea.  Our conversation was broken up for the presentation of "Finnish sauna diplomas"and awards for the winning olympic team.  Apparently my team was as awesome as I thought since we were the winners.  Our prize was Angry Birds candy, which I promptly opened and shared with everyone (that's my Colombian side showing through)  Nine o'clock arrived too soon and we headed back home.  As I walked into my apartment at 9:45 pm, the sun was just starting to set, painting the sky in beautiful streaks of pink and yellow, a beautiful end to a beautiful day.

You're not in Kansas anymore

My Vietnamese seat mate on the plane, a junior at a University in central Finland, pointed out the glass doors directly ahead once we'd picked up our luggage.  "You'll catch your bus there, at number 13" she said,  "We can find a place to wait until then".  I looked around, surprised.  We hadn't shown our passports to anyone.  I'd forgotten all about the European casualness towards moving between countries.  No paperwork to fill out on the plane, no questions asked, no residence permit shown.  All I did was passed my passport to the young border guard at Charles de Gaulle airport in France, who barely glanced up from Angry Birds as he stamped my passport.

Headed out into the evening, I boarded a bus to Turku.  As the sun set in front of us, we traveled past forests of pine and birch, lakes nestled with cabins, fields with red buildings that looked like they may have been the same one photographed on my Finnish book.  Moose crossing signs dotted the road at regular intervals.

I had a small scare when the bus stopped at a small town still over 50 kilometers from Turku and everyone got off.  Had I taken the wrong bus?  Was I going to be stranded in a place I'd never even heard of?  I asked the driver (in English) if the bus went all the way to Turku.  He didn't understand, so I just repeated "Turku?".  "No." He said firmly.  For a second my stomach dropped as I thought he meant, no, we don't go to Turku".  But the next second I realized he really thought I was asking if we'd arrived in Turku.  "Sit down!" he told me.

Finally arriving at Turku, my student tutor picked me up.  We swung by a 24 hour convenience store (it was 10:30 pm by then) and she showed me how to weigh my fruit and print out the barcode label for the bag.  Ready with breakfast food for the next day, I stepped into my apartment.  To say it was everything I ever dreamed would be an overstatement.  There was no mattress on the bed (I'd been forewarned), no working light in my room, and the color scheme of white EVERYWHERE seemed rather drab to me. But, it was a decent size, relatively clean, the kitchen had an oven and a freezer (I wasn't sure about those) and, of course, there was the balcony I'd been so excited about.  I excitedly called home and unpacked, and then tried to sleep, the combination of jet lag and excitement making it difficult.  It's crazy to think this dream, that started just over a year ago, is finally really HERE.