Winter, like a dream

Today was magical, fantastic, beautiful. And it was all because of the snow.

Well, the day started off with lunch.



(We've decided that cafeteria food is the same everywhere.)

It was the last day of Finnish Society and Culture, and this time we learned about Finland in the international scope.



(I mostly took this picture to assure my dad that I'm attending classes.)

Class ended, and outside we were greeted with a snow shower.



It was a lovely walk home.









At 10 p.m., most of Lapinkaari gathered outside to take a group picture. Many students are returning to their home countries in two weeks, and it's going to be hard for everyone to say goodbye.



After the series of pictures, I saw Zhenia walking away. I decided to follow her, as she knows the best paths around the neighborhood and is great company. The snow began to fall in larger flakes, and the ground collected a substantial soft layer that made funny noises against our boots each time we stepped. We took a path that I never explored before (thinking it led to a giant forest), and it opened up into a neighborhood of cozy family houses. We could see dim lights, decorations, candles and kitchen tables through the windows. The air was full and fresh and silent, except for our footsteps and the falling snow. Suddenly we heard barking. We turned to see a beautiful white dog, as soft as the snow, jumping excitedly. We watched it for a while, and then continued on our way. The streetlights gave off a perfect color; not too yellow or white. We walked past more houses, and it really felt like we were in a fairytale or a postcard. The path grew dimmer and darker until there were no houses, just sturdy trees and shrubbery and sticks kissed with snow. It was a romantic, serene, natural scene. We found our way back to the main road, and stopped to look up. As the flakes fell on our faces, we imagined ourselves flying through space. I had never experienced such a thing, and asked Zhenia if snow was still amazing for her after all the years of experiencing it. She said that it was still, and that it was like watching the sunrise or the sunset, things you don't really get tired of. Later, though, she said the transition from winter to spring can get pretty ugly in Russia, with everything melting and muddy.

We arrived back to see the guys engaged in a "heated" snowball fight. I asked my friend Kuba, from Poland, why he enjoyed doing this. "It relaxes me," he said. "It's something from childhood, which makes you happy. And it's, you know, it's very very innocent." Then I asked him what the art of snowballing is all about. "Just to shot as many head shots as I can. The best is to make somebody's cap fall off his head and I had it twice last time with Sanam's head," Kuba said, smiling. I asked my friend Chris, from Germany, for advice in snowball fighting. "Be fast," she said. "Be aware of snow showers." Naively, I asked her what a snow shower was, and became the next victim.

Zhenia and I hung out in the stairwell until about 1 a.m., and then retreated to our rooms. One final this week, two finals next, and a paper. I'm sad to think about Zhenia leaving and our other friends leaving. But this has been an exciting and rich experience together this semester at Lapinkaari.



Last note: I have been videotaping a lot of conversations and scenery in Tampere, and haven't quite had the time to edit them. When I find the time, I will need to figure out what editor I should use.