quick update from Saturday, June 2:
I'm waking up in New York City for the first time, looking at the pleasant blue sky through the curtains. Yesterday afternoon, I spent over 12 hours in transit. A 2-hr train ride from Tampere to Helsinki, 45-min bus to the airport, 3-hr flight to Reykjavik and 6-hr flight to JFK. Since I didn't know how to navigate New York transportation, I lugged two heavy suitcases and a bag with me for two hours trying to find my destination. It was weird to hear so many American accents, and weirder to understand the English all around me. Unfortunately, I heard mostly complaining and personal gossip. For the past year, I have been unable to pick up conversations in buses and cafes and on the street. Israel, Finland, Norway, Germany, Estonia, Sweden and Russia -- the voices in these countries were just background noise to my day. I got used to being surrounded by international people and other languages. Now I have this overwhelming feeling of being able to read other peoples' private thoughts. I'm also used to the stereotypical Finnish silence in public places. My arrival in the Iceland airport was met with American tourists chatting loudly. I just stood still, not wanting to speak to someone or for someone to speak to me. Oh, Finland. In the line to the bathroom, an American girl started talking to me. I was stunned, forgetting how to continue small talk. The few times Finns initiated conversations with me were mostly in sauna. But throughout the evening, I started to be immensely thankful that people would start talking to me or asking if I needed help. Moreover, there was no language barrier, and if there was, it would be Spanish, which I needed to use twice to get help. Finally, there was some comfort in being back in my home country.
There are so many more important things to write, but my days are so busy and limited, that my blog may take a hit.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Getting sunburnt in FInland
The sun is turning everyone weird colors of tan and orange and red.
I spent the day working on an essay, and in the afternoon went out to read a book near the lake.
Some pictures:
Approaching midnight, it's hard to tell whether the sun is going down or coming up.
I spent the day working on an essay, and in the afternoon went out to read a book near the lake.
Some pictures:
Approaching midnight, it's hard to tell whether the sun is going down or coming up.
One week left
Time is really speeding up. Every so often, I imagine myself in the middle of crowded, noisy New York, when in reality, I'm standing in Tampere, on a quiet, lonely road with few signs and parked cars. Get back to the present and enjoy, Leilani!
It's 11:30 p.m., but the sky is not dark yet and the birds go on chirping. One advantage of living on the ground floor is that I get to hear and see (and sometimes interact with) the life outside. I forget about being cooped up in a small room. Today, Uz, Al and I walked around the city, ending up at Pyynikki (a popular observation tower) for munkki and kahvia (doughnuts and coffee). We sat outside, talking story and cracking jokes. Besides the three of us 20-somethings from Pakistan, Catalonia and America, there were teenagers, runners, and some older folk hanging around. With these sunny, long days, Finland is becoming the place I first saw in August.
Lots of full circles. I've met several people I haven't seen since the first few months of my exchange. I finally visited the store managed by the university club I was introduced to in late September. I've said goodbyes with memories of the initial meetings. Maybe the full circle idea helps cope with finalities. Like what started is ending, but is complete. Anyway, I've got a million things on my mind, so now it's time to turn them into actions.
It's 11:30 p.m., but the sky is not dark yet and the birds go on chirping. One advantage of living on the ground floor is that I get to hear and see (and sometimes interact with) the life outside. I forget about being cooped up in a small room. Today, Uz, Al and I walked around the city, ending up at Pyynikki (a popular observation tower) for munkki and kahvia (doughnuts and coffee). We sat outside, talking story and cracking jokes. Besides the three of us 20-somethings from Pakistan, Catalonia and America, there were teenagers, runners, and some older folk hanging around. With these sunny, long days, Finland is becoming the place I first saw in August.
Lots of full circles. I've met several people I haven't seen since the first few months of my exchange. I finally visited the store managed by the university club I was introduced to in late September. I've said goodbyes with memories of the initial meetings. Maybe the full circle idea helps cope with finalities. Like what started is ending, but is complete. Anyway, I've got a million things on my mind, so now it's time to turn them into actions.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
And so the goodbyes begin
Keeping busy definitely helps. On Saturday, Henri took us on a mini road trip around Tampere. We visited Kangasala, Valkeakoski and other sites (will post pix soon). People have told me that it's pretty much the same all around Finland: trees, grass, lakes -- oh, a house! A moose! A town! There may be some truth to that, but Finland's sameness is so darn beautiful. I lose myself every time staring out of the window.
That afternoon, Al, Uz and I went to a screening of the Tuberculosis ad/short that we acted in. It was interesting to be a part of the production process, and I guess the final edit will make it to the Internet in a few weeks... After, we went to see The Avengers in 3D. On Sunday, we met a Finnish friend for lunch at a Nepalese restaurant. That evening we met other Finnish friends for a goodbye dinner for Pablo, who left this morning.
And so the goodbyes begin.
That afternoon, Al, Uz and I went to a screening of the Tuberculosis ad/short that we acted in. It was interesting to be a part of the production process, and I guess the final edit will make it to the Internet in a few weeks... After, we went to see The Avengers in 3D. On Sunday, we met a Finnish friend for lunch at a Nepalese restaurant. That evening we met other Finnish friends for a goodbye dinner for Pablo, who left this morning.
And so the goodbyes begin.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Ascension Day (Another Finnish holiday)
Arrrrrrrrgggggh: Two weeks left!
Next topic.
It was a Ascension day, which makes me think of flying off the runway and into the sky. My dictionary says that it means "the ascent of Christ into heaven on the fortieth day after the Resurrection" (Oxford). For me, it means the local grocery store is closed and I can't buy food. This country sure takes its holidays seriously. I watched "Mr. Nobody," started on an essay about my experience in Finland (which should fit in less than two pages), and then left with Al, a Catelonian friend, to Finlayson for a live band performance. We met up with Uz and ate at this awesome Nepalese restaurant.
In the evening, we were invited to a university film club get-together with some food, drinks and movies. There were 15 of us sitting comfortably around one apartment, some on the couch, others on the floor and on chairs. At first, they were watching an ice hockey match between the US and Finland. (Incidentally, I wore red, white and blue.) Finland won, breaking the tie in the last minute. It was a pretty mellow atmosphere, very nice people. Wish I had met them before. We ate some deserts: cookies, ice cream, candies and homemade black current sweets. Besides Al and Uz, I spoke mostly with a girl from Ukraine, who would like to begin studying in Finland from September. She asked me about the cafes I liked most in Finland, and I told her with certainty: Telakka and 931. Then we watched two documentaries: "White Diamond" and part of "Pumping Iron." When I get back to Eugene, I'd like to find a student film club or begin something similar!
Well, gotta cut this post short. Need to rest up for tomorrow's adventures...
P.S.: This Tuesday, I met the same older gentleman I met along my favorite trail last week. He was chatting with two woman, one of whom was thrilled to speak English for the first time in years. She showed me her Nordic skiis and how to walk with them. I told them how this city reminds me of Eugene.
Next topic.
It was a Ascension day, which makes me think of flying off the runway and into the sky. My dictionary says that it means "the ascent of Christ into heaven on the fortieth day after the Resurrection" (Oxford). For me, it means the local grocery store is closed and I can't buy food. This country sure takes its holidays seriously. I watched "Mr. Nobody," started on an essay about my experience in Finland (which should fit in less than two pages), and then left with Al, a Catelonian friend, to Finlayson for a live band performance. We met up with Uz and ate at this awesome Nepalese restaurant.
In the evening, we were invited to a university film club get-together with some food, drinks and movies. There were 15 of us sitting comfortably around one apartment, some on the couch, others on the floor and on chairs. At first, they were watching an ice hockey match between the US and Finland. (Incidentally, I wore red, white and blue.) Finland won, breaking the tie in the last minute. It was a pretty mellow atmosphere, very nice people. Wish I had met them before. We ate some deserts: cookies, ice cream, candies and homemade black current sweets. Besides Al and Uz, I spoke mostly with a girl from Ukraine, who would like to begin studying in Finland from September. She asked me about the cafes I liked most in Finland, and I told her with certainty: Telakka and 931. Then we watched two documentaries: "White Diamond" and part of "Pumping Iron." When I get back to Eugene, I'd like to find a student film club or begin something similar!
Well, gotta cut this post short. Need to rest up for tomorrow's adventures...
P.S.: This Tuesday, I met the same older gentleman I met along my favorite trail last week. He was chatting with two woman, one of whom was thrilled to speak English for the first time in years. She showed me her Nordic skiis and how to walk with them. I told them how this city reminds me of Eugene.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Turning the page: spring
I woke up to the sound of the lawnmower. Better than my alarm I suppose, which sounds exactly like a fire alarm, and has me jumping out of bed in less than two seconds.
For some reason, I'm never thrilled about the sounds of spring, Maybe it's the pollen, but I get this underlying feeling of boredom and frustration.
Winter was so quiet and cold, and everybody tried to conserve their energy by not doing or saying anything. I compensated by pretending it was spring and finding ways to enjoy such a dark season. In spring, I don't really need to do anything to make the world louder or more colorful. There's more commotion: cars are louder, people talk more, mowing of the lawn, moving around. I guess in Hawaii, this is pretty much a year round thing. So my strange feelings might have more to with the anticipation of finishing a long academic year and nearing summer.
I read these three good young-adult fiction books that my American friend lent me: "An Abundance of Katherines," "Looking for Alaska," and "Absolutely Normal Chaos." I remembered, at 12 years old, lying on a futon in my family's house in Manoa Valley, reading a book while eating a plum. I loved to eat fruit every time I read. Now that I think of it, even in college, my dad would often bring me a platter of fruit while I studied. Yummy. Anyway, if someone in the university saw me reading young-adult fiction, especially a book whose main character is 13, I'd get strange looks. It reminds me of turning 8. All my friends were reading novels, and I still wanted to read picture books, but I stopped borrowing picture books from the library because I was embarrassed.
Poor young me! How could my thinking be so off base? I'm an aspiring documentarian -- what better preparation for visual narrative than pictures books? And as for young adult fiction: I love how simple it is to describe a range of human experiences, from friendship to internal problems to family to love to realizations to loss to death. Also, I think my maturity and tolerance level can at times be quite teenish... In detective fiction and post-colonial literature classes, I was constantly analyzing while reading. Looking for symbolism, as well as gender, ethnicity and class matters. Analyzing, critiquing, questioning. The stories were not read as stories, but as windows into a different time and context.
When I began reading "An Abundance of Katherines," it took a while for me to stop analyzing and thinking, and just enjoy (as my Israeli Cinema professor told us: "You're not supposed to be entertained by these movies. Think of them as homework assignments. You need to be actively participating." Sometimes, when the workload gets to worky, pleasure can come from passivity or openness to a story.
(Uh oh, I just saw a Facebook post that a friend posted: "The Six Enemies of Greatness (And Happiness)," which are: Availability, Ignorance, Committees, Comfort, Momentum and Passivity.)
For some reason, I'm never thrilled about the sounds of spring, Maybe it's the pollen, but I get this underlying feeling of boredom and frustration.
Winter was so quiet and cold, and everybody tried to conserve their energy by not doing or saying anything. I compensated by pretending it was spring and finding ways to enjoy such a dark season. In spring, I don't really need to do anything to make the world louder or more colorful. There's more commotion: cars are louder, people talk more, mowing of the lawn, moving around. I guess in Hawaii, this is pretty much a year round thing. So my strange feelings might have more to with the anticipation of finishing a long academic year and nearing summer.
I read these three good young-adult fiction books that my American friend lent me: "An Abundance of Katherines," "Looking for Alaska," and "Absolutely Normal Chaos." I remembered, at 12 years old, lying on a futon in my family's house in Manoa Valley, reading a book while eating a plum. I loved to eat fruit every time I read. Now that I think of it, even in college, my dad would often bring me a platter of fruit while I studied. Yummy. Anyway, if someone in the university saw me reading young-adult fiction, especially a book whose main character is 13, I'd get strange looks. It reminds me of turning 8. All my friends were reading novels, and I still wanted to read picture books, but I stopped borrowing picture books from the library because I was embarrassed.
Poor young me! How could my thinking be so off base? I'm an aspiring documentarian -- what better preparation for visual narrative than pictures books? And as for young adult fiction: I love how simple it is to describe a range of human experiences, from friendship to internal problems to family to love to realizations to loss to death. Also, I think my maturity and tolerance level can at times be quite teenish... In detective fiction and post-colonial literature classes, I was constantly analyzing while reading. Looking for symbolism, as well as gender, ethnicity and class matters. Analyzing, critiquing, questioning. The stories were not read as stories, but as windows into a different time and context.
When I began reading "An Abundance of Katherines," it took a while for me to stop analyzing and thinking, and just enjoy (as my Israeli Cinema professor told us: "You're not supposed to be entertained by these movies. Think of them as homework assignments. You need to be actively participating." Sometimes, when the workload gets to worky, pleasure can come from passivity or openness to a story.
(Uh oh, I just saw a Facebook post that a friend posted: "The Six Enemies of Greatness (And Happiness)," which are: Availability, Ignorance, Committees, Comfort, Momentum and Passivity.)
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Something about Sauna
It was hard to study with my window open: wide blue sky with few wispy clouds, trees becoming fuller and greener, cool breeze, but temperature at a nice 11 degrees celcius.
In the afternoon, I went to the sauna with Albert, his Finnish friend K, and her couchsurfer from Madrid. It was sooooo relaxing and refreshing. One woman said something to me in Finnish, and I said, "Minä en puhu suomea" (I don't speak Finnish) and she said "Puhut suomea!" (You speak Finnish!) and one man said "If you don't speak Finnish, don't say anything." I didn't know if it was a joke, but everybody laughed so I laughed and made an awkward joke. I admitted to the woman next to me, "Minä voin puhua vähän suomea," (I can speak a little Finnish), though I wasn't entirely sure if that was accurate. The woman laughed and said "Kyllä." She started saying more things in Finnish. It was fun, but I wondered why it was the last month of my exchange when I met someone who didn't speak English.
We went into the cold lake several times, but I could only stay in for a few seconds each time. At one point we decided to lie on the rocks like starfish.
K told me about her travel experiences in Germany (actually she lived in Hanover, where my grandfather is from) and translation work, and about how wonderful couchsurfing has been. I remembered the interesting couchsurfer I met in Stockholm, who showed me around the city. That night, I stayed with a different surfers house, and it was great! I had dinner there, a nice couch to sleep on, and the next day I was taken to the ship that would take me back to Tampere. I'm not advertising couchsurfing -- in fact, I know people who have had strange experiences, but most stories have been good; great actually.
K's couchsurfer, Pablo, told me that after traveling so much, he realizes that it has become sort of a "doom" for him. He advised me to stop traveling after 35, though I think it was more of a warning. He had a very sincere, non-condescending way of speaking, a lot like my friend Tania, who has about a million nationalities. Once you become 50, Pablo told me, it's harder to settle down. "All the women are married or are too young." The only thing to do is to keep traveling. Plus, everybody keeps asking him where he's going to next, expecting him to always have a next destination. I asked if he encountered many travelers who thought like him. "Not really," he said, pausing to think. "I think regular travelers I met have been kind of weird. Like they don't have social skills, even though you would think they would." Pablo said that when you travel a lot you become more of a relativist, "And that is not good," he added, lightheartedly. He said that even if your opinions or thoughts are wrong -- which most are anyway -- they are better than not having them. "And skeptical, you become too skeptical. And nobody wants to be around somebody like that." Now Pablo admires people who are so sure about things.
"But now I feel rootless," Pablo said. "I don't belong in Finland. I don't think I ever will. I lived in Poland for two years, and I liked it there but I don't think I could belong there too. I'm from Spain, but now I don't belong to Spain. Everywhere I am, there is always something better in another country." Gosh, I think Pablo is a 50-year-old male version of me.
We came back home, had dinner, and now I'm stuck on my chair again, working on this essay. To be honest, I'm pretty burnt out with the essays.
My dad would like more explanation about Finnish sauna culture, so I'll have to post something more soon. Hopefully along with pictures and audio!
In the afternoon, I went to the sauna with Albert, his Finnish friend K, and her couchsurfer from Madrid. It was sooooo relaxing and refreshing. One woman said something to me in Finnish, and I said, "Minä en puhu suomea" (I don't speak Finnish) and she said "Puhut suomea!" (You speak Finnish!) and one man said "If you don't speak Finnish, don't say anything." I didn't know if it was a joke, but everybody laughed so I laughed and made an awkward joke. I admitted to the woman next to me, "Minä voin puhua vähän suomea," (I can speak a little Finnish), though I wasn't entirely sure if that was accurate. The woman laughed and said "Kyllä." She started saying more things in Finnish. It was fun, but I wondered why it was the last month of my exchange when I met someone who didn't speak English.
We went into the cold lake several times, but I could only stay in for a few seconds each time. At one point we decided to lie on the rocks like starfish.
K told me about her travel experiences in Germany (actually she lived in Hanover, where my grandfather is from) and translation work, and about how wonderful couchsurfing has been. I remembered the interesting couchsurfer I met in Stockholm, who showed me around the city. That night, I stayed with a different surfers house, and it was great! I had dinner there, a nice couch to sleep on, and the next day I was taken to the ship that would take me back to Tampere. I'm not advertising couchsurfing -- in fact, I know people who have had strange experiences, but most stories have been good; great actually.
K's couchsurfer, Pablo, told me that after traveling so much, he realizes that it has become sort of a "doom" for him. He advised me to stop traveling after 35, though I think it was more of a warning. He had a very sincere, non-condescending way of speaking, a lot like my friend Tania, who has about a million nationalities. Once you become 50, Pablo told me, it's harder to settle down. "All the women are married or are too young." The only thing to do is to keep traveling. Plus, everybody keeps asking him where he's going to next, expecting him to always have a next destination. I asked if he encountered many travelers who thought like him. "Not really," he said, pausing to think. "I think regular travelers I met have been kind of weird. Like they don't have social skills, even though you would think they would." Pablo said that when you travel a lot you become more of a relativist, "And that is not good," he added, lightheartedly. He said that even if your opinions or thoughts are wrong -- which most are anyway -- they are better than not having them. "And skeptical, you become too skeptical. And nobody wants to be around somebody like that." Now Pablo admires people who are so sure about things.
"But now I feel rootless," Pablo said. "I don't belong in Finland. I don't think I ever will. I lived in Poland for two years, and I liked it there but I don't think I could belong there too. I'm from Spain, but now I don't belong to Spain. Everywhere I am, there is always something better in another country." Gosh, I think Pablo is a 50-year-old male version of me.
We came back home, had dinner, and now I'm stuck on my chair again, working on this essay. To be honest, I'm pretty burnt out with the essays.
My dad would like more explanation about Finnish sauna culture, so I'll have to post something more soon. Hopefully along with pictures and audio!
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Sleepless, rainy friday night
It's pouring outside. I mean buckets and buckets of water are falling from the sky. All of a sudden, Tampere is humid and wet like Eugene, and I sort of miss Eugene. I miss evening drives to Sweet Life with Maiko in that old, tiny blue car. I miss long hours in the journalism building with dozens of other hurried students. I miss people and going to the coast and seeing movies at the Bijou.
Usually I'm hesitant to use those two words because missing is just a lonely room full of portraits anyway. I'll never fully be a part of them again and my interpretation of them will continue to change. It wasn't the people or the context or the place; it was the perfect harmony of it all.
My friend says that I have a lot of "impossible wishes," like wishing I could have ice cream when the shops are closed and wishing I could make a brilliant film in one day and wishing I could see a Grateful Dead concert. But I think most people have these wishes.
By the way, I just noticed that Finland has so many strange fruit juice combinations. For example, a popular brand called juissi has the following flavors: "Pineapple-orange, Strawberry, Lemon-lime, Mixed (apple, green grape and raspberry), Fruit (grapefruit, pineapple, passion fruit, pear and apple), Pear, Blueberry-raspberry, Red Energy and Green Energy" (from wikipedia page). Well, those are strange to me at least. In America, I think I only had apple, orange, grapefruit and cranberry. In Finland, it's completely normal to have a glass of strawberry juice.
Getting to sleep is difficult, and I wonder if it's because my oh so stable life as an exchange student in Finland is approaching its end, and the outside world seems so foreign and scary. You would think that after Hawaii to Spain, Spain to Hawaii, Hawaii to Oregon, Oregon to Finland, that this would be something I'm used to. I always hear that the more experiences we have (whatever that means!) and the more adversity we encounter, the more prepared we are for the future. But with every challenging and uncomfortable experience, I realize that we can never be totally prepared for the experiences that lie ahead. What has helped me more is figuring out my passion and drive and identifying some concrete steps that could lead me to a fulfilling career and lifestyle. Just as important as preparation and new experience is the understanding of our nature, and our way of dealing with difficult situations. Maybe new and adverse experiences will help, but maybe they won't.
I just lost my train of thought and am feeling very sleepy. Goodnight!
Usually I'm hesitant to use those two words because missing is just a lonely room full of portraits anyway. I'll never fully be a part of them again and my interpretation of them will continue to change. It wasn't the people or the context or the place; it was the perfect harmony of it all.
My friend says that I have a lot of "impossible wishes," like wishing I could have ice cream when the shops are closed and wishing I could make a brilliant film in one day and wishing I could see a Grateful Dead concert. But I think most people have these wishes.
By the way, I just noticed that Finland has so many strange fruit juice combinations. For example, a popular brand called juissi has the following flavors: "Pineapple-orange, Strawberry, Lemon-lime, Mixed (apple, green grape and raspberry), Fruit (grapefruit, pineapple, passion fruit, pear and apple), Pear, Blueberry-raspberry, Red Energy and Green Energy" (from wikipedia page). Well, those are strange to me at least. In America, I think I only had apple, orange, grapefruit and cranberry. In Finland, it's completely normal to have a glass of strawberry juice.
Getting to sleep is difficult, and I wonder if it's because my oh so stable life as an exchange student in Finland is approaching its end, and the outside world seems so foreign and scary. You would think that after Hawaii to Spain, Spain to Hawaii, Hawaii to Oregon, Oregon to Finland, that this would be something I'm used to. I always hear that the more experiences we have (whatever that means!) and the more adversity we encounter, the more prepared we are for the future. But with every challenging and uncomfortable experience, I realize that we can never be totally prepared for the experiences that lie ahead. What has helped me more is figuring out my passion and drive and identifying some concrete steps that could lead me to a fulfilling career and lifestyle. Just as important as preparation and new experience is the understanding of our nature, and our way of dealing with difficult situations. Maybe new and adverse experiences will help, but maybe they won't.
I just lost my train of thought and am feeling very sleepy. Goodnight!
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Nature Greetings
I went for a run near Näsijärvi lake this morning, and after about 10 minutes, I realized that I was severely out of shape. So, I slowed it down to a jog/walk. The temperature was cool and the air was light. I passed mossy rocks, large trees, the occasional stump, anchored boats, a pile of logs and signs with Finnish names I can't pronounce...
Here are some pictures from the route:
As I was walking back, I noticed an older man standing on a large patch of rock and grass, with a clear view of the lake. I smiled, and he said something in Finnish. When he realied I didn't understand, and said, "It's so beautiful today." It was true; the thick, velvety lake was a beautiful sight. It reminds me of home to see the edge of land meet a large body of water. "Where are you from?" the man asked slowly, with clear pronunciation. "From Hawaii," I responded. "Where?" he asked again. "Havai." "Oh, Havai!" he exclaimed, with a soft, pleasant smile, "America." I nodded and said, "It's many miles away from here." We stared at the lake for about a minute. "Are you from Tampere?" I asked. "Yes, I am from Tampere. Between the Näsijärvi and Pyhäjärv lakes," he answered. I told him that Tampere is such a great place, and that it will be hard to get used to the city life in New York this summer. His eyes lit up. "Oh, New York!" he said. "My sister's daughter is in Boston." I smiled and nodded. He apologized that his English is so poor, that he studied it in school in the 50s, and didn't continue. I thought his level was not poor at all. "Do you speak Spanish?" I asked. "No, only Finnish and Swedish." That's what I expected. We turned to the lake again, admiring the ripples and cuts and different shades of blue. Realizing that I had to go home quickly to continue work on papers, I wished the man a good day. "Same to you," he said. I walked back with the sound of my footsteps, the light wind, and faraway birds.
Here are some pictures from the route:
As I was walking back, I noticed an older man standing on a large patch of rock and grass, with a clear view of the lake. I smiled, and he said something in Finnish. When he realied I didn't understand, and said, "It's so beautiful today." It was true; the thick, velvety lake was a beautiful sight. It reminds me of home to see the edge of land meet a large body of water. "Where are you from?" the man asked slowly, with clear pronunciation. "From Hawaii," I responded. "Where?" he asked again. "Havai." "Oh, Havai!" he exclaimed, with a soft, pleasant smile, "America." I nodded and said, "It's many miles away from here." We stared at the lake for about a minute. "Are you from Tampere?" I asked. "Yes, I am from Tampere. Between the Näsijärvi and Pyhäjärv lakes," he answered. I told him that Tampere is such a great place, and that it will be hard to get used to the city life in New York this summer. His eyes lit up. "Oh, New York!" he said. "My sister's daughter is in Boston." I smiled and nodded. He apologized that his English is so poor, that he studied it in school in the 50s, and didn't continue. I thought his level was not poor at all. "Do you speak Spanish?" I asked. "No, only Finnish and Swedish." That's what I expected. We turned to the lake again, admiring the ripples and cuts and different shades of blue. Realizing that I had to go home quickly to continue work on papers, I wished the man a good day. "Same to you," he said. I walked back with the sound of my footsteps, the light wind, and faraway birds.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Finally, A Spring Update (Vappu included)
It feels like I haven't blogged in ages! Not good, Leilani, not good. As of today, one out of my three essays are IN. THE. BAG! The one I just handed in was about the Price-Anderson Act, which is the nuclear liability law in the United States.* The second two are learning diaries for classes in internet governance and media literacy and education. Once I'm done, I would like to travel to at least three other cities in Finland! My sights are set on Joensuu, Turku, Lahti, Pori and the Aland islands. Its a bit far and pricy to get to Rovaniemi (not to mention, the best season for that trip is over), but who knows! There are so many beautiful places in the world. And so many interesting people. Today at lunch, there were three older men sitting on the table next to us, speaking quite loudly. One man's accent sounded particularly New York-ish, and I got really excited about my plans for this summer. (I still remember the time Amaya wanted to know how much Ugg boots cost in the U.S., and I called a supplier in New York just to hear what people spoke like.) Here's a How To on talking with a NY accent: http://www.ehow.com/how_2121885_talk-new-york-accent.html.
One superimportant event that I didn't mention yet is Vappu. On Vappu, Tampere turns into a completely different place. The event is celebrated on April 31st and May 1st around Finland, and it is basically a giant party in the name of Labor Day. High School graduates celebrate by wearing a white student cap; marches and speeches are held in the city; picnics are taken in the park; first year engineering students are dipped in the lake; and everybody gets totally drunk and crazy. It was like a music festival in a crowded city, where everything is possible. I saw a fire in the park, lots of broken glass on the ground, young people drinking next to policemen, bodies lying on the ground... It was so messy and noisy! Walking back to my neighborhood, I felt relieved and comforted to feel the stillness and quietness.
(Shiz and I picnicking on Vappu)
Let's see what else... Last Wednesday, an American friend and I visited the Finnish high school Sammon Keskulukio again, talking with students from English and media classes. We got the usual questions: "Why did you come to Finland?" "What were some of the cultural shocks you experienced?" "How did you deal with the winter?" "What are schools like the US?" "How do you like Finnish food?" It was slightly painful to reflect on the experiences of the past year when I only have a few weeks left. Anyway, I'd better prepare myself with answers to these questions for when I get back.
The atmosphere at the Finnish lukio (school) just felt so different from high schools back home, which was full of teenage angst, hormones, insecurity, peer pressure, hookups and breakups. I'm sure some of this still goes on, but I noted a relatively calm and collected crowd, quite reserved. Students call their teachers by their first names; are encouraged, not required to participate; and have relative autonomy in choosing their classes and schedules. Here, high school is a place for academics (or also for athletics). In the US, my favorite memories of high school were at student activities like morning broadcast and cross country. It's hard to choose which system I would prefer, but it is clear that Finland doesn't have the education disparity like in the US.
I was again surprised to hear that the male percentage of these soon-to-be high school graduates would be doing a mandatory year of military service. They have the option to alternatively choose the civil service, but it is not popular. Some girls said that it was not manly, and that they would laugh if a guy said he was joining the civil service. Guys said that they heard it was a great experience in terms of discipline and service to their country.
Anyway, I found it very fun and informative to talk to the high school students. We asked them what sorts of issues they spoke about with friends or at home. Two that came up were: Finnish involvement in the EU and the current job situation (with a reduction in cultural/artistic jobs and increase in construction and medical ones). I wonder what I was thinking about back then...
Well, many things going on in the world and in Tampere and in my life and in everybody else's (is that even a word?) lives. Only time (and a bit of steering) will tell!
*Basically, the PAA establishes a no-fault compensation mechanism for any damages in the event of an accident. Critics call it a subsidy, because if the damages exceed the $12.5 billion liability cap, the government may use taxpayer money. Proponents say it is necessary in encouraging nuclear energy, and gives an incentive for mutual monitoring. The issue with the liability is that it is difficult to measure all the external costs and benefits involved in nuclear energy production. From the start up to operations to decommissioning to waste storing to natural catastrophes, there are lots of risks involved. There is a lot of money and support in supporting the nuclear energy, but this substitutes money and support that could be going to safer, more sustainable energy sources. Whether the nuclear liability law is efficient, and what would be a better solution, was the objective of my paper.
One superimportant event that I didn't mention yet is Vappu. On Vappu, Tampere turns into a completely different place. The event is celebrated on April 31st and May 1st around Finland, and it is basically a giant party in the name of Labor Day. High School graduates celebrate by wearing a white student cap; marches and speeches are held in the city; picnics are taken in the park; first year engineering students are dipped in the lake; and everybody gets totally drunk and crazy. It was like a music festival in a crowded city, where everything is possible. I saw a fire in the park, lots of broken glass on the ground, young people drinking next to policemen, bodies lying on the ground... It was so messy and noisy! Walking back to my neighborhood, I felt relieved and comforted to feel the stillness and quietness.
(Shiz and I picnicking on Vappu)
Let's see what else... Last Wednesday, an American friend and I visited the Finnish high school Sammon Keskulukio again, talking with students from English and media classes. We got the usual questions: "Why did you come to Finland?" "What were some of the cultural shocks you experienced?" "How did you deal with the winter?" "What are schools like the US?" "How do you like Finnish food?" It was slightly painful to reflect on the experiences of the past year when I only have a few weeks left. Anyway, I'd better prepare myself with answers to these questions for when I get back.
The atmosphere at the Finnish lukio (school) just felt so different from high schools back home, which was full of teenage angst, hormones, insecurity, peer pressure, hookups and breakups. I'm sure some of this still goes on, but I noted a relatively calm and collected crowd, quite reserved. Students call their teachers by their first names; are encouraged, not required to participate; and have relative autonomy in choosing their classes and schedules. Here, high school is a place for academics (or also for athletics). In the US, my favorite memories of high school were at student activities like morning broadcast and cross country. It's hard to choose which system I would prefer, but it is clear that Finland doesn't have the education disparity like in the US.
I was again surprised to hear that the male percentage of these soon-to-be high school graduates would be doing a mandatory year of military service. They have the option to alternatively choose the civil service, but it is not popular. Some girls said that it was not manly, and that they would laugh if a guy said he was joining the civil service. Guys said that they heard it was a great experience in terms of discipline and service to their country.
Anyway, I found it very fun and informative to talk to the high school students. We asked them what sorts of issues they spoke about with friends or at home. Two that came up were: Finnish involvement in the EU and the current job situation (with a reduction in cultural/artistic jobs and increase in construction and medical ones). I wonder what I was thinking about back then...
Well, many things going on in the world and in Tampere and in my life and in everybody else's (is that even a word?) lives. Only time (and a bit of steering) will tell!
*Basically, the PAA establishes a no-fault compensation mechanism for any damages in the event of an accident. Critics call it a subsidy, because if the damages exceed the $12.5 billion liability cap, the government may use taxpayer money. Proponents say it is necessary in encouraging nuclear energy, and gives an incentive for mutual monitoring. The issue with the liability is that it is difficult to measure all the external costs and benefits involved in nuclear energy production. From the start up to operations to decommissioning to waste storing to natural catastrophes, there are lots of risks involved. There is a lot of money and support in supporting the nuclear energy, but this substitutes money and support that could be going to safer, more sustainable energy sources. Whether the nuclear liability law is efficient, and what would be a better solution, was the objective of my paper.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Finding Relief
Oh, let me crawl into a ball and disappear!
Let tangled thoughts reveal something clear!
They say we must always face our fears,
Relief is just beyond a flow of tears. . .
Oh COME ON, me
Just let it go!
Or at least imagine
Running through a pile of leaves
Watching them wave, spin, dance, tease
In the morning, toast and cream cheese
Fruits and flowers and herbal teas
Let tangled thoughts reveal something clear!
They say we must always face our fears,
Relief is just beyond a flow of tears. . .
Oh COME ON, me
Just let it go!
Or at least imagine
Running through a pile of leaves
Watching them wave, spin, dance, tease
In the morning, toast and cream cheese
Fruits and flowers and herbal teas
Thursday, April 26, 2012
a cool spring day
Today was very Eugeney. Wet and drab and cool and fresh. I'm taking a four-day long, 16-hour class called Internet Governance by guest lecturer Wolfgang Kleinwächter. So far the topics have been: the history of international communication regulation and the internet, ICANN and IGF. In the afternoon, I went to the European Youth of Tampere's panel discussion on Turkey. (From FB page: "Turkey - a shelter or a storm? A superpower with multiple identities, situated between the EU and the Middle East, a NATO member and yet also a country with a large muslim population - Turkey clearly has a major impact in the world politics. What is happening in the Turkish politics today? Will Turkey form closer ties to the West and the EU due to the Arab Spring? What kind of an impact can it have on the Syrian crises or the future of Middle East?")
Later in the day, I ran on a beautiful neighborhood trail. Past tree after tree to my left, I admired the nearby lake covered by a thin layer of ice. I'll miss this deeply, but I can't allow myself to ignore the other beautiful places in this world.
Oh, and I decided to bring life into my room:
Later in the day, I ran on a beautiful neighborhood trail. Past tree after tree to my left, I admired the nearby lake covered by a thin layer of ice. I'll miss this deeply, but I can't allow myself to ignore the other beautiful places in this world.
Oh, and I decided to bring life into my room:
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Wednesday: General thoughts
When times get too fast and interesting, I'm faced with the same dilemma: to write down everything I've experienced, learned and reflected before I forget, or to shut off and take a break. If I'm living in the moment, and I'm inspired to write, I'll write. If not, I'd rather turn on some music and eat orange yogurt while surfing the internet. But if I'm living for the future, I should document my experiences and thoughts before they are lost. But then I think: Will the important things be lost? and Will my future self forgive me for choosing to indulge in the laziness of the present? Is this laziness or is it momentary disinterest?
I wonder if the university has made me too critical, too quick to be contrary. I see the value in preparing students to be critical thinkers, but what happens when we criticize everything, deconstruct everything, delay decision forever? I think I'm reaching some kind of new turning point in my life. As a kid, I was expressive and defiant. And I remember thinking people, especially adults, didn't understand me. During middle school, I felt very much a part of some larger system, and wanted to follow it like everybody else. I didn't question so much my teachers or the things adults told me.
I entered high school uninterested in studying and insecure about expressing my feelings publicly. Due to the encouragement of my father, I began to immerse myself in studies and get involved in school activities. I still felt that I was a part of a system, and that there were clear stepping stones to follow to college, a career, a family life and retirement.
My study abroad year at 16/17 years was awesome. I realized that there are other systems with their respective stepping stones. My perspective widened, as did my capacity to understand and empathize. But I continued to live within my system and to see others as "others."
At the university, I took many classes that inspired me and inflamed a passion for learning, discussing and analyzing. In an international studies class, my idea of belonging to a system, and needing to follow its respective path was painfully challenged. Legitimacy questioned, truth questioned, morality questioned. Of course, I had had thoughts like this before, but maybe not strongly since I was a child, openly expressive and defiant, asking my father questions like "Why can't girls marry girls?" I spent many days thinking about what is right and what is wrong. What is reality and what ideology I should be aligned with. I didn't even hear the term postmodern, but I guess that's what I was.
Flash forward two years of wondering and frustration: my time in Israel and Finland has been absolutely full of discussions about existence, reality, right vs. wrong, the point in life, etc... I still meet many who believe there are universal truths, and others who believe its highly individual and constructed.
But I feel myself going through a turning point where the lucid wondering has turned into a conscious effort to find practical and tangible solutions for issues. I am still critical, and maybe think too much, but I feel the time passing and I'd like to try to control it for once.
I forgive younger me for not blogging about her experiences at this time, even though I'd be interested in what she was thinking at the moment or what she did and ate that day.
I wonder if the university has made me too critical, too quick to be contrary. I see the value in preparing students to be critical thinkers, but what happens when we criticize everything, deconstruct everything, delay decision forever? I think I'm reaching some kind of new turning point in my life. As a kid, I was expressive and defiant. And I remember thinking people, especially adults, didn't understand me. During middle school, I felt very much a part of some larger system, and wanted to follow it like everybody else. I didn't question so much my teachers or the things adults told me.
I entered high school uninterested in studying and insecure about expressing my feelings publicly. Due to the encouragement of my father, I began to immerse myself in studies and get involved in school activities. I still felt that I was a part of a system, and that there were clear stepping stones to follow to college, a career, a family life and retirement.
My study abroad year at 16/17 years was awesome. I realized that there are other systems with their respective stepping stones. My perspective widened, as did my capacity to understand and empathize. But I continued to live within my system and to see others as "others."
At the university, I took many classes that inspired me and inflamed a passion for learning, discussing and analyzing. In an international studies class, my idea of belonging to a system, and needing to follow its respective path was painfully challenged. Legitimacy questioned, truth questioned, morality questioned. Of course, I had had thoughts like this before, but maybe not strongly since I was a child, openly expressive and defiant, asking my father questions like "Why can't girls marry girls?" I spent many days thinking about what is right and what is wrong. What is reality and what ideology I should be aligned with. I didn't even hear the term postmodern, but I guess that's what I was.
Flash forward two years of wondering and frustration: my time in Israel and Finland has been absolutely full of discussions about existence, reality, right vs. wrong, the point in life, etc... I still meet many who believe there are universal truths, and others who believe its highly individual and constructed.
But I feel myself going through a turning point where the lucid wondering has turned into a conscious effort to find practical and tangible solutions for issues. I am still critical, and maybe think too much, but I feel the time passing and I'd like to try to control it for once.
I forgive younger me for not blogging about her experiences at this time, even though I'd be interested in what she was thinking at the moment or what she did and ate that day.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Waving Along
This morning S and I ran into our summer school Finnish teacher at the university. It had been a few months since we last saw or spoke, and the encounter jolted my consciousness of how much time had passed and how settled I now feel in Finland. I was happy to see our teacher, a Belgium woman in her late 20s, with the same calm and patient presence as I remembered. She asked if we were happy here, and we said "yes" and "okay," to which she responded, "You don't sound very convinced." "It goes in waves," I explained. "Well," she said, "you have been here for only a short time, and you are still going through culture shock, even though you might not realize it." My nod turned into a slightly sentimental smile, and I wondered if my past had been a series of culture shocks. When would I give into staying in one place for an extended period of time?
I mentioned the UN's first World Happiness ranking, with Finland coming in at number two. She said that Finland was also listed as having one of the highest suicide rates. I asked whether people seemed happier in Belgium or Finland. "I can't answer that," she said. But she has noticed more people here are open about expressing their sorrow or depression. In Belgium, it is something bad, and people try to supress those feelings. "Maybe they're happier because they can express their sorrow," our teacher offered. Maybe.
This is my mom and I in Takapoto, an atoll in the Tuamotus. In my life, I have moved well over 20 times. This has given me the perception that home is where my family is, and with them, I don't feel detached from the places I have lived, am living, and will be living, however short term it may be.
I mentioned the UN's first World Happiness ranking, with Finland coming in at number two. She said that Finland was also listed as having one of the highest suicide rates. I asked whether people seemed happier in Belgium or Finland. "I can't answer that," she said. But she has noticed more people here are open about expressing their sorrow or depression. In Belgium, it is something bad, and people try to supress those feelings. "Maybe they're happier because they can express their sorrow," our teacher offered. Maybe.
This is my mom and I in Takapoto, an atoll in the Tuamotus. In my life, I have moved well over 20 times. This has given me the perception that home is where my family is, and with them, I don't feel detached from the places I have lived, am living, and will be living, however short term it may be.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Monday, April 2, 2012
Sunday evening sauna
I noticed someone wearing locals rubber slippers in the public sauna. "Did you get those in Finland," I asked. "No," the man replied, "actually I got them in Kona, Hawaii." That nearly took me off of my seat. "I'm from Kona!" I exclaimed. He told me that he is from Finland, and had studied at the Kona branch of University of the Nations, a Global Christian university.
Sweat pored down our skin, and we left the room to take a dip in the lake.
Back in the sauna, someone threw a few scoops of water onto the coals. I lowered my head to my lap, the steam burning my arms and ears. "Sorry if it's getting too hot," the executor said. We smiled, and said things like: no problem, it's a great experience in Finland, we are beginners... Another man told us that if you go to the sauna many times, your skin gets thick soles. "When did you first go to the sauna?" I asked. "Probably when I was three months old."
After a few more rounds of lake, shower, break, sauna, it was 7 p.m. and we had to leave.
Sweat pored down our skin, and we left the room to take a dip in the lake.
Back in the sauna, someone threw a few scoops of water onto the coals. I lowered my head to my lap, the steam burning my arms and ears. "Sorry if it's getting too hot," the executor said. We smiled, and said things like: no problem, it's a great experience in Finland, we are beginners... Another man told us that if you go to the sauna many times, your skin gets thick soles. "When did you first go to the sauna?" I asked. "Probably when I was three months old."
After a few more rounds of lake, shower, break, sauna, it was 7 p.m. and we had to leave.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
March 31, 2012
I was in Eugene for a weekend seminar on filmmaking. Guest after guest would present from morning until night, and the attendees didn't have much free time. I heard about some people sneaking away at night, and I began to resent being obliged to stay put at the residence. My friend's birthday was that night in Portland, and I was really considering it. She gave me directions how to get to her place. "Once in Portland, take a taxi from a really nice old guy who will charge a very little amount. Arrive at the metro stop. Take the metro, and then another metro, and then arrive at my house." This is my chance, I thought. I'm really not enjoying myself here. Spending full days listening to similar different theories and experiences, and from people who think so highly of themselves, without even asking our "humble student" opinions. This is my chance to do something exciting and fun this weekend. I walked outside of the residence, onto the flat, vast road, I saw a hat-wearing, briefcase holding man in a very old, fancy suit, walking toward a spiral case of stairs. Out of my conscious, I shouted something like "Hey!" He didn't turn back, and I felt embarrassed, so I tried to get to the nearest corner I could find. As the man approached the stairs, he faced me and took off his hat. The look was direct and questioning. "I need to get to Portland to take a taxi from this great old --" "He is gone," the man interrupted. "Just a few months ago, he left to New Jersey." My insides dropped. "But I need to go to Portland and take his taxi and get to my friend's party," I said sincerely. The man answered, "I take people on sunset drives, and anyway I can charge you 10 dollars. Actually I can charge you nothing." I was skeptical, but I thought: this must be a part of my adventure. I could think of all the people who would advise me not to travel with a stranger. But I took them out of my head. As we walked back to the man's car, I observed that without a hat he looked much younger. And under his large suit, he was quite healthy looking. I saw a friend in the distance and immediately motioned him over, "Hey! Come to Portland with me! It's a free trip, and we're going to a party!" Confused by the sudden demand, he carefully walked toward us. Another friend from behind him came into view, and without thinking, I invited her along as well. I turned to our driver, who bore a blank expression. He led to his vehicle -- fancy that; he is a taxi driver, I thought, reassured in a way. He unlocked the doors, and the the three of us students, delirious and bored, entered. I don't remember what was said in the beginning of the drive, or what it felt like in the taxi. But along the long, plain road to Portland, we began to see large animals in the foggy distance, running toward us. As they neared, we could see and feel the power of a herd of majestic and silky horses gallop past the car, in the opposite direction. "Hand me my camera!" I called to my friend. But we had all forgotten to bring our cameras. The driver smiled, but he didn't seem surprised. The sunset was beautiful on the world's canvas. After the horses were gone, we saw a few people riding on bicycles or walking past. Nobody was driving on the other lane. Actually, we were the only car on the road. The next moment I can remember was driving (can I say that?) through a deep lake. The driver made a funny and ironic statement about driving on water. We smiled, and remained silent. "By the way, I should give you my business card," the man said, turning to me. "I could take you guys back to Eugene tomorrow." I nodded. "That would be great." But I just realized that I had forgotten my money and mobile phone. Before, I hadn't needed any of that. We were entering a city that requires money and access to communication. Maybe we should just stay for a few hours, and go back with him, I wondered, but not for long. Soon, we were in Portland. I was handed a business card, and we thanked the man, walked out of his car, and ventured for the metro stop.
(dream)
(dream)
Leaving and entering
Pretty great day. I'm almost finished with an essay on immigration to Finland. Uz and I went to Bono's farewell party at Cafe Europa, deep talking over sweet sangria. For dinner, I had lasagne with Uz and Flo, and was pleasantly interrupted by a Skype call from Alison and Jack! Temperature has been above 0, but they predict snowfall this weekend.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Disconnect and Connect
Here I am, one week later, at a time when days feel like weeks. Lately I've been trying to get out of my room as much as possible.
Some highlights:
Some highlights:
- I visited a Sammon Lukio (a Finnish high school) for the second time, and was asked questions by students in two English classes like why did you move to Finland, what do you think about Finnish guys and what kind of food do you eat in Hawaii. An English teacher arranged for my American friend and I to sit in on a radio class and band class. The school has a strong media program, and students who complete it are basically prepared to enter the workforce. In the band class, I was impressed by the comfortable level of interaction between students and teachers. Finnish high school students have chosen to be there rather than at a vocational school, and they have relative independence to choose their course schedule and assessment. At the end of the day, S and I spoke with the English teacher about the values and concepts of Finnish high school system. Here's an interesting article about its success: http://www.theatlantic.com/national/archive/2011/12/what-americans-keep-ignoring-about-finlands-school-success/250564/ and a video Uz linked: http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=qlOfZL_J5f
- I saw the Slovakian movie Gypsy, "the story of Adam, a boy who, after the death of his father, struggles to cross the boundaries of his settlement and tries to change his siblings’ lives. He finds himself in a conflict with racial, social, and cultural prejudice and the unwritten laws of his own Roma community." More info: http://www.scanorama.lt/en/%C4%8Digonas
- I saw another Slovakian movie House, "a rare glimpse of life in rural, post-Soviet Eastern Europe, and it makes subtle comments about the unfamiliar quandaries of property ownership and the emergence of a new middle class in that part of the world." More info: http://www.denverfilm.org/filmcenter/detail.aspx?id=24339
- Live rock performance at Jack the Rooster
- Live performance of Burning Hearts (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oXOcOUQIRrk) and Avasaxa at Doris
- (Awesome!) live performance of Stringpuree (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Vnxu9qFwws) at Telakka
- 5 euro BBQ burger, one of the best I've ever had
- Snow is melting away. . .
- School is mostly a highlight
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
More Gray and Punk Syndrome
I wonder when I will wake up to spring. This week's highs are around 4 degrees in Tampere (without sun), compared with 11 degrees in Stockholm (with sun). New York city is looking pretty warm -- around 25 degrees. I'm hoping it won't get much hotter during the summer.
Doc Lounge screened Kovasikajuttu: The Punk Syndrome this evening. The documentary, featuring a punk band called Pertti Kurikan Nimipäivät, was a hit at the Tampere Film Festival. This evening, it attracted a full audience -- with some 180 tickets sold.
There are so many more things I want to learn about Finland and Finnish culture. Well, I still have two more months...
Doc Lounge screened Kovasikajuttu: The Punk Syndrome this evening. The documentary, featuring a punk band called Pertti Kurikan Nimipäivät, was a hit at the Tampere Film Festival. This evening, it attracted a full audience -- with some 180 tickets sold.
There are so many more things I want to learn about Finland and Finnish culture. Well, I still have two more months...
Monday, March 19, 2012
Holi: A Colorful Day for Tampere
On Saturday afternoon, people celebrated Holi, the Indian spring festival (also known as Festival of Colors), in Tampere's central square. The weather was quite gray and drab, but the mood grew with upbeat, world music and people and colorful paint.
Usually Holi is celebrated under the sun, with flowers and grass. In Finland, people threw snowballs instead of water.
People made signs reading "Hello" in various languages.
Federiko in the beginning. By the time we left, his entire face was covered.
We didn't plan on getting painted.
I guess she didn't either.
Cute kid
(Photos taken by Uzair and I)
The event was called "Holi for Equality," in an effort to provide a platform for intercultural interaction. From the event's Facebook page:
More information: http://www.holifestival.org/ and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holi
A video from last year's Holi celebration in Eugene: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1gRmpSnfrmI
In the evening, we headed to O'Connels in celebration of St. Patrick's day. We waited for nearly 30 minutes in the queue (just wanted to try the word out), and then entered the noisy, crowded pub with a live band and lots of green decorations. We met up with friends from Lapinkaari, who were hanging out at one side of a side room, opposite groups of Finnish people. Uz, Flo and I sat down on a couch, and a Finnish student began to speak with us. Topics included where we were from, where he has been, why we came to Finland, changes in the Nordic welfare state and the Finnish public media system versus America's commercial broadcasting system. I wasn't expecting to have such an interesting conversation at a pub on Saturday night.
Sunday has been mostly a reading day. I'm anticipating a super busy week ahead!
Usually Holi is celebrated under the sun, with flowers and grass. In Finland, people threw snowballs instead of water.
People made signs reading "Hello" in various languages.
Federiko in the beginning. By the time we left, his entire face was covered.
We didn't plan on getting painted.
I guess she didn't either.
Cute kid
(Photos taken by Uzair and I)
The event was called "Holi for Equality," in an effort to provide a platform for intercultural interaction. From the event's Facebook page:
During this festival of Holi, one is smeared and dabbed with plethora of colors which makes it impossible to distinguish one by skin color, religion, country, gender, or belief. So, we have come up with this innovative idea of celebrating Holi to promote a common multicultural platform.I think it was a great success!
More information: http://www.holifestival.org/ and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holi
A video from last year's Holi celebration in Eugene: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1gRmpSnfrmI
In the evening, we headed to O'Connels in celebration of St. Patrick's day. We waited for nearly 30 minutes in the queue (just wanted to try the word out), and then entered the noisy, crowded pub with a live band and lots of green decorations. We met up with friends from Lapinkaari, who were hanging out at one side of a side room, opposite groups of Finnish people. Uz, Flo and I sat down on a couch, and a Finnish student began to speak with us. Topics included where we were from, where he has been, why we came to Finland, changes in the Nordic welfare state and the Finnish public media system versus America's commercial broadcasting system. I wasn't expecting to have such an interesting conversation at a pub on Saturday night.
Sunday has been mostly a reading day. I'm anticipating a super busy week ahead!
Friday, March 16, 2012
Finnish and Russian Studies
(Disclaimer: I'm really tired, so this post might read confusing and tedious.)
It's been a great day.
First lecture: Folk music and dance in Finland. We got to listen to songs (calls and squeals, juoigos, lamentation and Kalevala melody), play instruments (kantele, bowed harp, among others) and sing songs. The teacher was very engaging and humorous.
Second lecture: Gender, Race and Ethnicity in Soviet and Russian Films of the 20th century.
Our Latvian professor began with Russian cinema that constructed womanhood through images that appealed to audiences at the time. In Baby Ryazanskie, we observe the patriarchal gender power relations in a rural home, while faced with psychologically nuanced representations of relationships and characters. Bed and Sofa focuses on a married woman who initially feels like a "bird in a cage." She does all the work, and doesn't get any love or attention. At the end, she leaves the house, free and independent. Alone is one of the first films to use sound. It is about an urbanite Soviet woman who is going to be a teacher. Images of consumerism are repeated and associated with joy, pleasure, happiness, privateness and hope for the future. This film marked the beginning of female economic migration.
Then we moved onto racial politics and how cinema made race and sex issues seem to not exist. Two questions posed were: What are the limits placed on (racial/gender) identity by iconography, narrative patterns, genres and target audience? and How cinematic organization of racial representations in binary terms reduces the complexity of race relations?" Our teacher presented Arapchonok (meaning "black boy" in Russian), who is a figure of "filial subordination and infinite growth." This image of a boy in colonial literature has been a symbol of eternal growth, but never reaching full development. European literature added to the image of Africa as an uninhabitable place, full of cannibals and savages (see: Tarzan and works of Jules Verne). During the 1920s, lots of movies were bought from Hollywood, and Russian cinema came out with cheap blockbusters of their own. Red Devils was Russia's first action movie, and it featured brother and sister protagonists with an African accomplice. He was shown as a soldier, a brave guy, who from time to time would use his skin color to scare people. In 1936, the movie Circus came out, and was an instant hit -- even Stalin loved it. The story is about an American woman who flees to Russia to hide/protect her mulatto son. She is the icon of femininity, and Russia is shown to love all kinds of people, as the nation adopts all people, no matter what race. Our professor pointed out the film's support for political paternalism and the reproductive agenda at the time. It came out in the same year abortions were banned. Maksimka (1953) is about an African boy on a slave ship who is rescued by Russian imperials. At the time, globality was becoming a part of Russian nationalism. Interest in Africa, Oceania and other parts of the world was heightened. The colonial thinking at the time, our professor said, was that if you help others, you help yourself. The boy is shown as taken from the "wild, pagan place" that is pre-lingual. He is objectified in camera shots, and later taught Russian words and given a Christian name: Maksimka. Many young children in Russia grew up with this kind of iconization/imagination produced in cinema.
Things started to change in the end of the 1950s. The 6th World Festival of Youth and Students was held in Moscow in 1957, and drew in tens of thousands of foreign students. "Moscow was open to the world and the world opened Moscow" (professor). There was art and expression and protests, and anti-colonial movements were held. Our professor had little time to wrap up, so she left us with two movies that, while "marginal and without much artistic quality," were unique and a kind of cultural resistance: The Black Sun and Chronicals of Night. When I find out more about the plots, I'll update this blog post.
I was surprised to find out that there haven't been any African directors in Russia. With such obviously racist commercials and overtones in cinema, along with people acting like racial/gender issues don't exist, it seems like a good idea to produce popular African-directed/centered films and distribute them in Russia. Just like women were able to improve their situation by writing and directing films.
Okay, I need to stop here. I can't really think straight since I'm so tired. And I have an early class tomorrow.
Wow, really a great day.
It's been a great day.
First lecture: Folk music and dance in Finland. We got to listen to songs (calls and squeals, juoigos, lamentation and Kalevala melody), play instruments (kantele, bowed harp, among others) and sing songs. The teacher was very engaging and humorous.
Second lecture: Gender, Race and Ethnicity in Soviet and Russian Films of the 20th century.
Our Latvian professor began with Russian cinema that constructed womanhood through images that appealed to audiences at the time. In Baby Ryazanskie, we observe the patriarchal gender power relations in a rural home, while faced with psychologically nuanced representations of relationships and characters. Bed and Sofa focuses on a married woman who initially feels like a "bird in a cage." She does all the work, and doesn't get any love or attention. At the end, she leaves the house, free and independent. Alone is one of the first films to use sound. It is about an urbanite Soviet woman who is going to be a teacher. Images of consumerism are repeated and associated with joy, pleasure, happiness, privateness and hope for the future. This film marked the beginning of female economic migration.
Then we moved onto racial politics and how cinema made race and sex issues seem to not exist. Two questions posed were: What are the limits placed on (racial/gender) identity by iconography, narrative patterns, genres and target audience? and How cinematic organization of racial representations in binary terms reduces the complexity of race relations?" Our teacher presented Arapchonok (meaning "black boy" in Russian), who is a figure of "filial subordination and infinite growth." This image of a boy in colonial literature has been a symbol of eternal growth, but never reaching full development. European literature added to the image of Africa as an uninhabitable place, full of cannibals and savages (see: Tarzan and works of Jules Verne). During the 1920s, lots of movies were bought from Hollywood, and Russian cinema came out with cheap blockbusters of their own. Red Devils was Russia's first action movie, and it featured brother and sister protagonists with an African accomplice. He was shown as a soldier, a brave guy, who from time to time would use his skin color to scare people. In 1936, the movie Circus came out, and was an instant hit -- even Stalin loved it. The story is about an American woman who flees to Russia to hide/protect her mulatto son. She is the icon of femininity, and Russia is shown to love all kinds of people, as the nation adopts all people, no matter what race. Our professor pointed out the film's support for political paternalism and the reproductive agenda at the time. It came out in the same year abortions were banned. Maksimka (1953) is about an African boy on a slave ship who is rescued by Russian imperials. At the time, globality was becoming a part of Russian nationalism. Interest in Africa, Oceania and other parts of the world was heightened. The colonial thinking at the time, our professor said, was that if you help others, you help yourself. The boy is shown as taken from the "wild, pagan place" that is pre-lingual. He is objectified in camera shots, and later taught Russian words and given a Christian name: Maksimka. Many young children in Russia grew up with this kind of iconization/imagination produced in cinema.
Things started to change in the end of the 1950s. The 6th World Festival of Youth and Students was held in Moscow in 1957, and drew in tens of thousands of foreign students. "Moscow was open to the world and the world opened Moscow" (professor). There was art and expression and protests, and anti-colonial movements were held. Our professor had little time to wrap up, so she left us with two movies that, while "marginal and without much artistic quality," were unique and a kind of cultural resistance: The Black Sun and Chronicals of Night. When I find out more about the plots, I'll update this blog post.
I was surprised to find out that there haven't been any African directors in Russia. With such obviously racist commercials and overtones in cinema, along with people acting like racial/gender issues don't exist, it seems like a good idea to produce popular African-directed/centered films and distribute them in Russia. Just like women were able to improve their situation by writing and directing films.
Okay, I need to stop here. I can't really think straight since I'm so tired. And I have an early class tomorrow.
Wow, really a great day.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
When in Finland (take a dip in the frozen lake!)
The snow is melting, leaving sidewalks with patches of slush and littered with tiny stones.
My bus pass ran out of credit, so I've been walking everywhere. I remember my first weeks in Finland, strolling around the city, noticing how quiet and calm the atmosphere felt. Cars weren't honking and people weren't talking loudly. After a few months, I realize that respecting personal space and speaking only when necessary are traditional Finnish values. Culture shock has gradually led to understanding and even appreciation.
At 5 p.m., Shiz and I went to the nearby public sauna (Rauhaniemi, built in 1929). There, we changed out of sweatpants, boots and coats, and into bathing suits and rubber slippers. We rinsed off, and then walked quickly to the sauna. The room was much larger than the one in Lapinkaari, and it smelled of warm wood and sweat. One woman threw water on the rocks, which produced a low hiss and heated up the room to over 100 degrees Celsius. There were mostly adults and some college students. People occasionally exchanged glances and words. I felt so warm and relaxed, open and released. Some 15 minutes later, when our breathing shortened and water ran low, we walked outside, the cold, fresh air filling our lungs. We drank some water and proceeded toward the lake, where stairs led into a hole in the ice. Two women in front swam for a few seconds with such ease, but we just managed to put our feet in. By the second and third times, we spent a whole five or six seconds in such biting, freezing water up to our shoulders. And then a final cycle of shower, sauna, lake, shower. At 7:30 we were done. I was tired but felt deeply refreshed and satisfied.
I'll try to take some updated pictures of the sauna and post.
Here are some from before:
(at night during December)
(midday during August)
(midday during the August)
At night, we ate fried rice and then watched "Children of Heaven" on Uz's laptop. It was a great film featuring two young siblings, with a simple story, honest scenes, strong characters and heartwarming messages.
A great day, and looking forward for more to come!
p.s.: I forgot to mention that I saw the northern lights from Tampere on Wednesday. They were pretty dim, dancing green lights.
My bus pass ran out of credit, so I've been walking everywhere. I remember my first weeks in Finland, strolling around the city, noticing how quiet and calm the atmosphere felt. Cars weren't honking and people weren't talking loudly. After a few months, I realize that respecting personal space and speaking only when necessary are traditional Finnish values. Culture shock has gradually led to understanding and even appreciation.
At 5 p.m., Shiz and I went to the nearby public sauna (Rauhaniemi, built in 1929). There, we changed out of sweatpants, boots and coats, and into bathing suits and rubber slippers. We rinsed off, and then walked quickly to the sauna. The room was much larger than the one in Lapinkaari, and it smelled of warm wood and sweat. One woman threw water on the rocks, which produced a low hiss and heated up the room to over 100 degrees Celsius. There were mostly adults and some college students. People occasionally exchanged glances and words. I felt so warm and relaxed, open and released. Some 15 minutes later, when our breathing shortened and water ran low, we walked outside, the cold, fresh air filling our lungs. We drank some water and proceeded toward the lake, where stairs led into a hole in the ice. Two women in front swam for a few seconds with such ease, but we just managed to put our feet in. By the second and third times, we spent a whole five or six seconds in such biting, freezing water up to our shoulders. And then a final cycle of shower, sauna, lake, shower. At 7:30 we were done. I was tired but felt deeply refreshed and satisfied.
I'll try to take some updated pictures of the sauna and post.
Here are some from before:
(at night during December)
(midday during August)
(midday during the August)
At night, we ate fried rice and then watched "Children of Heaven" on Uz's laptop. It was a great film featuring two young siblings, with a simple story, honest scenes, strong characters and heartwarming messages.
A great day, and looking forward for more to come!
p.s.: I forgot to mention that I saw the northern lights from Tampere on Wednesday. They were pretty dim, dancing green lights.
Midweek Musings
I was flipping through a notebook I kept in Germany last December, and came across this entry:
It's dark at 9 p.m. and I'm on the bus
Burger King on the left
I feel the most sober sense of solitude
Wheels turning on old cement
Dim blue light inside
Only road ahead, no longer anything
to my right or left
I can breathe, and nobody feels it
I am traveling alone
and could do it for days
But once in a while I would like
to share this with a friend
What is it really to be alone and to feel alone? Accelerated thoughts about this tend to come up on long bus rides, or randomly in the middle of the night.
Friends and people around have been constant sources of inspiration and happiness.
Sometimes in a group I lose myself. Dynamics of the relationship -- like empathy, sharing, motivation, tension, disagreements, become more focal.
"Being alone" has given me space to collect my thoughts and develop my ideas. But it also has led me into deep, abstract areas without exits.
I end up wondering whether we are having false feelings of loneliness or false feelings of togetherness.
Some friends have expressed the belief that we are all alone at the core. Others talk about humanity as one, with each person making up part of the larger picture. Are we all just saying the same thing, but in different words and with different focuses?
For some reason, I keep going back to what a shopkeeper in Tzfat told me, "The most important thing is that we breathe. Everything else is just extra."
It's dark at 9 p.m. and I'm on the bus
Burger King on the left
I feel the most sober sense of solitude
Wheels turning on old cement
Dim blue light inside
Only road ahead, no longer anything
to my right or left
I can breathe, and nobody feels it
I am traveling alone
and could do it for days
But once in a while I would like
to share this with a friend
What is it really to be alone and to feel alone? Accelerated thoughts about this tend to come up on long bus rides, or randomly in the middle of the night.
Friends and people around have been constant sources of inspiration and happiness.
Sometimes in a group I lose myself. Dynamics of the relationship -- like empathy, sharing, motivation, tension, disagreements, become more focal.
"Being alone" has given me space to collect my thoughts and develop my ideas. But it also has led me into deep, abstract areas without exits.
I end up wondering whether we are having false feelings of loneliness or false feelings of togetherness.
Some friends have expressed the belief that we are all alone at the core. Others talk about humanity as one, with each person making up part of the larger picture. Are we all just saying the same thing, but in different words and with different focuses?
For some reason, I keep going back to what a shopkeeper in Tzfat told me, "The most important thing is that we breathe. Everything else is just extra."
Monday, March 12, 2012
Break highlights
How to put the last half of the break into words?
maybe: awesome student films, sunshine, temperature rising, little sleep, tired eyes, talented people, looking at Shizuka's face, festival seminars, flower print, ice cream in the morning, walking because no bus card, poetry, slushy snow, lounging (but not much of it), internationals, talking about "stuff," gender roles confirmed or rejected, putting off laundry, what comes first: messy room or messy mind?
I get all twisted up thinking about leaving Tampere.
maybe: awesome student films, sunshine, temperature rising, little sleep, tired eyes, talented people, looking at Shizuka's face, festival seminars, flower print, ice cream in the morning, walking because no bus card, poetry, slushy snow, lounging (but not much of it), internationals, talking about "stuff," gender roles confirmed or rejected, putting off laundry, what comes first: messy room or messy mind?
I get all twisted up thinking about leaving Tampere.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Tampere Film Festival Begins
Tonight was the opening party for the 42nd Tampere Film Festival, which will continue to host international and national films until March 11th. Uz, Flo, Shiz and I had some interesting encounters and conversations with people involved in documentary and with the festival. The live band was awesome, and I'll link them up as soon as I figure out who they are. The last song was done in Sami style, using earthy, unfamiliar (to me) noises.
This weekend is looking a lot busier since I just found out I have a position as a festival volunteer. I'm so so so so so excited. Also a bit anxious. Lots of things on my mind. One Finnish dancer that we met felt my back and said that I was tense.
My cheesy response to why I stress out is: I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. Maybe I associate a relaxed attitude with idleness and apathy. Just as many good documentaries have tension, I see my tension as leading to improvement or some kind of resolution. Of course, if I had the choice, everyone would be content and at ease and satisfied all the time. But anyway... I guess I can focus on getting there myself.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
My Acting Debut...
I would say that my comfort zone is the observer, someone behind the camera. But this morning, I sat in front of that foreign, digital object, surrounded by young film school students. A few weeks prior, I got an e-mail message looking for international people ("The most important thing is that you DON'T look typical finnish person!") to be a part of an advertisement/short movie about tuberculosis. I sent a message back, not thinking much about it. In Tampere, there were a few mornings when I spit out blood. People joked about me having tuberculosis, but I didn't actually know about that disease.
Apparently, this project is a collaboration of TAMK university students with Pirkanmaa hospital district and tuberculosis association in Finland. The objective is to raise awareness about the disease among Finns and immigrants living in Finland. The producer told me that not many immigrants agreed to participate because the issue is taboo in their countries (it is associated with poverty and drug-use).
Uz came with me for moral support, and ended up being in the shot as well. We were in Cafe Europa, a very trendy spot with old furniture and other vintage decorations. I sat on a couch, and I had one action and one line. There were several takes, and after an hour we were free to go. It was nerve-racking, thrilling, exciting, you name it! Anyway, after I joked around with Uz about my introduction into fame.
Many in Lapinkaari left for Lapland today! They'll be there for the whole week. Hopefully I can go next weekend, or soon after. I'm afraid it will be too late to see the northern lights, but that's all right. This week is definitely a good one to be in Tampere.
Will update!
Apparently, this project is a collaboration of TAMK university students with Pirkanmaa hospital district and tuberculosis association in Finland. The objective is to raise awareness about the disease among Finns and immigrants living in Finland. The producer told me that not many immigrants agreed to participate because the issue is taboo in their countries (it is associated with poverty and drug-use).
Uz came with me for moral support, and ended up being in the shot as well. We were in Cafe Europa, a very trendy spot with old furniture and other vintage decorations. I sat on a couch, and I had one action and one line. There were several takes, and after an hour we were free to go. It was nerve-racking, thrilling, exciting, you name it! Anyway, after I joked around with Uz about my introduction into fame.
Many in Lapinkaari left for Lapland today! They'll be there for the whole week. Hopefully I can go next weekend, or soon after. I'm afraid it will be too late to see the northern lights, but that's all right. This week is definitely a good one to be in Tampere.
Will update!
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Nearing the new season (with pics and video)
The sun brought out the most beautiful, bold colors today.
People are starting to talk about how quickly time flew and how few months we have left together. It's contagious and makes me sentimental. I just try not to focus on that. Anyway, I bought a map of Finland (Suomi) from the Red Cross (Punainen Risti). It's taped to my wall with green stickers on the places I have been to and yellow stickers on places I must visit. The best time to travel is during the spring and summer, but I should go to Lapland in the winter to catch the northern lights and avoid mosquitoes and swamps.
Uzair and I have been meeting lots of people in cafes and bars and outdoors. A common question we ask is: "What is your favorite part and least favorite part of Finland?" National consensus seems to find sauna as the best cultural activity. As for the least favorite, some people have mentioned the quiet, reserved social behavior. One economics student was most critical of Finland's climate policy.
Here are some highlights from the week:
(Sunday, Feb. 26: Bus to Pyynikki and trek to Pispala)
Pyynikki tower, the beginning of our trek
Everybody gets munkki and kahvia at the bottom of the tower
View of Tampere from the top of Pyynikki
I still haven't figured out how buses can operate in this condition
Many families and individuals spend their weekends outdoors
Trekking past Pyynikki and toward Pispala
Approaching Pispala, a city district 2.5 km from Tampere's city center. It is one of most beautiful residential neighborhoods in Tampere.
Some houses in Pispala
One house really caught our attention
We walked inside to find a community house, where local artists and community members share art, make art, do meditation, converse, play with toys and eat, among other things. The art house is funded by the government.
One of the members of the art house said that they are trying to encourage people to play with toys and find ways to communicate through them.
There were decorations galore. I definitely need to go back for more...
The sun began to set as we walk back to the city center.
(Monday, Feb. 27: Walk on Nasijarvi Lake)
Walking to the lake
Walking on the lake
Cruisin'
It took us about 20 minutes to walk to the lighthouse
During the day, hot chocolate, coffee, sausages and munkki are sold at the lighthouse
We approached some peatchy areas, but were assured it was safe to walk on
Frozen lake, a desert of snow
To view a news report that some friends did, click here.
People are starting to talk about how quickly time flew and how few months we have left together. It's contagious and makes me sentimental. I just try not to focus on that. Anyway, I bought a map of Finland (Suomi) from the Red Cross (Punainen Risti). It's taped to my wall with green stickers on the places I have been to and yellow stickers on places I must visit. The best time to travel is during the spring and summer, but I should go to Lapland in the winter to catch the northern lights and avoid mosquitoes and swamps.
Uzair and I have been meeting lots of people in cafes and bars and outdoors. A common question we ask is: "What is your favorite part and least favorite part of Finland?" National consensus seems to find sauna as the best cultural activity. As for the least favorite, some people have mentioned the quiet, reserved social behavior. One economics student was most critical of Finland's climate policy.
Here are some highlights from the week:
(Sunday, Feb. 26: Bus to Pyynikki and trek to Pispala)
Pyynikki tower, the beginning of our trek
Everybody gets munkki and kahvia at the bottom of the tower
View of Tampere from the top of Pyynikki
I still haven't figured out how buses can operate in this condition
Many families and individuals spend their weekends outdoors
Trekking past Pyynikki and toward Pispala
Approaching Pispala, a city district 2.5 km from Tampere's city center. It is one of most beautiful residential neighborhoods in Tampere.
Some houses in Pispala
One house really caught our attention
We walked inside to find a community house, where local artists and community members share art, make art, do meditation, converse, play with toys and eat, among other things. The art house is funded by the government.
One of the members of the art house said that they are trying to encourage people to play with toys and find ways to communicate through them.
There were decorations galore. I definitely need to go back for more...
The sun began to set as we walk back to the city center.
(Monday, Feb. 27: Walk on Nasijarvi Lake)
Walking to the lake
Walking on the lake
Cruisin'
It took us about 20 minutes to walk to the lighthouse
During the day, hot chocolate, coffee, sausages and munkki are sold at the lighthouse
We approached some peatchy areas, but were assured it was safe to walk on
Frozen lake, a desert of snow
To view a news report that some friends did, click here.
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