NORMAL LIFE: My Second One Year

This is my 'second one year' back in Finland. You might have cottoned on that the point of this blog was to document the memories of my four - now five - years in Finland. Well, I left Finland at the end of August 2005, but I returned with my beloved Bree on December 19th so, in effect, this is the one year anniversary of that return. So, what do I make of things second time around?

Well, it is December, it is dark and the weather is downright miserable so this might play on any opinions I put forth right now. However, it's all part and parcel of living this far north so any opinion is valid. Life is all about people, how we interact and how we all get the best out of each day. When you're a foreigner living in someone else' country, you often feel like a second class citizen which, for a Brit, is hard to stomach. Culture is another thing - you can read about The Big C here.

The most frustrating thing about living in Finland is the people. Like I said before, people are important. Finns have learnt not to rely on their fellow countrymen to get them through the seasons, but they have quite cleverly mastered the art of boozing as a way of infiltrating the anti-social exterior of their fellow citizens. Given that I'm quite a social person, I'm frustrated by the lack of social stimulation at this time of year. It has hardly been below freezing point so far this year yet people use the darkness as an excuse to be downright miserable. Given that we have about 90 minutes less daylight per day than London, this extreme behaviour is inexcusable and I refuse to conform to ways of the zombie-like locals. Furthermore, I refuse to lower myself to the point of borderline alcoholism just so I may be considered socially acceptable.

At the risk of generalising, Finns harbour three distinct characteristics; modesty, silence and a limited ability to socialise. Picture this: you turn up at a party where there may already be ten other guests. The custom is to go around the room and introduce yourself to everybody, which is strange given that you might not even speak to most of the people again during the whole evening. I am very social and, by contrast, I have yet to meet a Finnish equivalent; a mix of reservedness and modesty actually impedes a Finns ability to communicate effectively, until the vodka bottle comes out. Strangely, Finns are proud of - and amused by - this dependence on alcohol. The ironic thing is you are more likely to hear a Finn laugh wholeheartedly into a phone - using a Nokia, no less - than in person.

One thing that is noticeable in Finland, however, which I really admire is their intention to hang onto their traditions. This is understandable, given that Finland is still in her youth. Independent only since 1917, Finland has benefitted from taking all the knowledge from other countries and actually doing many things better on a relatively new clean slate. The preservation of their traditions convey a sense of patriotism which is admirable and something I have never witnessed in the UK; such is the cost of multiculturalism e.g. the watering down of national identity. The evident resistence to multiculturalism could actually be misconstrued as racism, but the proof of Finland's resistance is there in the form of national statistics; since 2000, Finland hasn't managed to fill its annual quota of just 750 refugees (read more here). Admittedly, Finland feels quite safe and it is therefore debatable whether the lack of foreigners - a concentration of have-nots, if you will - actually corresponds to a reduced level of crime.

Security is a big issue for Finns who, until now, have refused to join the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO). This raises another characteristic typical of Finns. They are incredibly naive, perceiving that safety is a god-given right , believing that maintaining neutrality will guarantee them security. Let me give you an example. It's 9pm on a cold, dark winter evening and there are kids playing ice hockey - they range from 7 to 11 years of age and there are no parents in sight. The very suggestion that a child might be abducted is greeted with ridicule. Many a time I have been told that abduction, paedophilia and sexual abuse do not exist in Finland. Read this and this, folks! This naivety is somewhat admirable and respectable. Admirable in the sense that we all want to live in that safe microcosm. Respectable in the sense that, while the threats may not exist on the scale that they may do in the UK or in the US, I still wouldn't allow my own child to even risk becoming a statistic.

The city of Helsinki is interesting for, somehow, each part of the city represents a section of society. You have the widowed, wealthy ladies of Katajanokka, who still (albeit rudely) reserve seats in Stockmann's cafe using their hats and gloves. You have the snobs of the city who wear the strinkingly odd Swedish ensemble of dark trousers with bright brown shoes. Meanwhile, there are noisy skateboarders downtown, while drunks and addicts wander around Kallio aimlessly, regularly using the tram as some kind of halfway house. At the same time, there are the well-to-do baby boomers of Töölö, with immigrants to the East and families to the West. The formation of the city's inhabitants is due somewhat to the city's bureaucratic administration. Helsinki, indeed Finland, excels in something I wish the UK would do better - public administration. I have been harrassed endlessly for every last bit of tax and, although I don't like it, it's actually the right thing to do. After all, why should somebody else subsidise my contribution?

This form of 'state bullying' has contributed somewhat to the higher-than-average honesty of the Finns. While a Finn can maintain an almost deathly silence to make his/her point, the minute he/she opens her mouth, it is to tell you something that he/she truly believes. There's no bullshit coming from these people's mouths. You can always choose to disregard what they say, but you generally know where you stand with a Finn, be it in a good or bad place. And it this honesty and straightforwardness that is admirable for, in the US and even in the UK, people love to go round the houses to make their point which is a waste of everybody's time.

As I walked to the tram stop this morning on my way to work, I dragged my feet through the thin, 2cm layer of snow. I looked up at the sky and, towards the horizon, a nice orange glow was starting to form. Full of hope - that's all we have in Finland at this time of year - I wondered if this would be the start of a sunny day or another miserable one. And that's where we come to the most crucial, defining aspect of what it means to be a Finn: nature. Off the top of my head, there are four consistent images of what a Finn values when he/she talks about nature - berries, sauna, forest and snow. Berries are fantastic, even the bitter ones. And saunas are great, even when there is hot summer weather outside. The forest attracts people, even when they infested with the season's mosquitoes and they just can't get enough of snow; they claim the snow brightens up the day, but how can this be when there's rarely any sun? Quite clearly, it's all in their head!

The plain truth is that I like Finland's simplicity, and the way it is determined to preserve it's traditions in the face of growing multiculturalism. Looking to the future, it's looks very bright. Spring is coming, followed by Summer. Even the Autumn's are somewhat reasonable now that global warming has made it a bit warmer! When I came back to Finland a year ago, I was an unemployed bum for five months. Now, I have a highly responsible job which keeps me on my toes and I am alot happier than when I left Finland in August 2005.

Given the daily challenges that I face, even after five years in Finland, living in Finland is a very character-building experience. If I didn't tolerate the day-to-day things, I wouldn't last five minutes let alone five years in Finland, but the fact that it is different and the daily experiences, be they highs or lows, makes my life rich!