FLASHBACK #3: English name on a door!

The weeks crept by very slowly. And I mean, very slowly. Quite often, I wondered if I had done the right thing in leaving England. Nobody from the office had offered to show me around town so it was pretty much a case of just getting on with things. The situation had to be addressed, I thought, as I started going to work on Saturdays and Sundays too, not because of a workload, but because I was bored.

One evening, after returning home from work, I noticed that there was a new name on the door of an apartment on the 2nd floor; since I lived on the 3rd floor and made the effort of using the stairs each day, rather than the lift, I noticed this new name and it immediately grabbed my attention. It was an English name. In my building. On the 2nd Floor! When I got into my apartment, I pondered upon the idea of introducing myself to the occupant. Would it be culturally acceptable?

I bit the bullet, went down one floor and knocked. No answer! Had he or she looked through the peephole and not liked what they had seen and refused to answer? Or were 'they' simply not home? I repeated this process over the next week or so, but again and again nobody responded to the ringing bell. Were they on holiday, or were they students who were out all the time? Curiosity had got the better of me, and I was determined to meet this person with the English name!

After about two weeks, at the beginning of December and after being in Finland about a month, the lock finally clicked. Surprised after waiting so long, I was suddenly lost for words. A woman in her pyjama's had opened the door slightly and a gorgeous golden-coloured corgi was attempting to bypass its owner to get to me. I knelt down to greet the dog and looked up at the woman bearing blonde pig-tails, a beaming smile and rosy cheeks! I asked if she spoke English, she said: 'Of course'. Straight away, she asked me if I would like to join her for a cup of tea. I was taken aback, wondering if there was a husband, or if a boyfriend would turn up at anytime. Not wanting to offend or seem ungrateful, I accepted and, over the next couple of hours, we got to know eachother.

Over several cups of tea and with the dog constantly vying for my attention, I learned that she was a Finn, but had an English name because she had been married to an Englishman. Sadly, they had divorced - he was career-orientated while she wanted a family. She had met her English husband in Germany and, having returned to Finland, started dating a Finnish guy. That fizzled out and now she was living in my building. I asked why she hadn't answered the door - the truth was that she had just moved in, that the name had been on the door for a number of weeks although she hadn't yet moved in.

With all bases covered, I told her about how I had come to end up in Finland. She interrupted our conversation, declaring that the dog needs his walk and invited me to join them. Although I had been in Tampere for nearly a month, I hadn't yet visited the nearby park. The snow had settled, piled up in places to allow access for cars, and we wandered around the nearby arboretum edging alongside Lake Pyhäjärvi. The dog clambered over the piles of snow which was amusing to watch. These walks in the park would become a regular feature of my life, a welcome reprieve from the lonely, dark evenings.