Rolling Home

Although this is the slowest and most expensive way to go home, I don’t regret taking the ship. Much more still than the international bus it is a world of its own – and you have freedom to move around. As we were made to board in time for a departure at 3pm, but we even miss the usual time (5pm) due to delays of cargo loading, I happen to see the end of the last Harry Potter movie (with Finnish subtitles) when I check the channels available on the TV in the cabin. After a while I am joined by an older Russian woman, the third bed remains unoccupied. She doesn’t speak German or English and I think she overestimates my Russian, half of her questions I have to answer with “I don’t understand”. As the small inside cabin is a bit claustrophobic I spend most of the time out on deck although it gets quite cold in the damp cool air and the wind. But I enjoy both the views of the skerries around Vuosaari Harbor and details of the ship and the way the small engines juggle the containers onto the upper cargo deck. As it gets darker the harbor lights are impressive, too, so I certainly am not bored.

I go to bed early and sleep for twelve hours in the completely dark in-cabin which nearly makes me miss breakfast. The Russian lady in my cabin offers me one of her many breakfast eggs, they are small and freckled, and it’s only when I already cracked one open that I realize they are raw. I feel it would be awkward to refuse now, so I do as she tells me and open it at the top, put in salt and empty it in one go. It doesn’t really taste of much, so, not all that bad. I take breakfast at a window table with a view over the grey sea below a cover of heavy clouds. Quite dark for nearly ten. But then again, while the time on the boat will remain Finnish we already entered the Central European Time zone, so actually it’s before nine. And I see a rainbow which seems to be really close by. What a nice start of the day.

I stroll around on the ship after breakfast, read a little and talk to a Russian woman who spends a lot of time on adding decorations to her daughter’s ice-skating costume in this unheated ‘lounge’. At lunch an overly exact Finnish couple really does me a favor by driving me away from my table – I hadn’t known there are fixed assigned tables and, of course, there are free tables all over the place, but they insist this number is theirs and I am invited by the woman at the next table to join her. So I meet Katrien from Belgium and we spend the rest of the day together. As usual on these Scandinavian ferries there is a free sauna and whirlpool, it’s quite empty and we spend about two hours there. Being truly Finnish this sauna is close to 100 degrees and during breaks there is the quite special opportunity to step outside in the middle of the sea. We spend the rest of the evening in the restaurant and bar area, you don’t have to buy anything to sit there and it’s somewhat warmer than the “lounge”.

 

Time passes easily with reading, writing, sharing pictures, talking – and listening to a group of German seniors. When we get closer to the coast it’s also warmer outside. I guess the bright white blinking we see for a while belongs to a lighthouse on Rügen, the biggest German island and popular weekend resort for many people in my region. And there are birds now! Seagulls floating in and out of the light cones of our windows somehow make the air seem like something they swim in. We slow down and nearly stop altogether when Lübeck already is in sight. Then, like the seagulls, but much quicker and muck bigger, another Finnlines ferry dashes past the window, some minutes later followed by the Nils Holgersson, a big ferry going to Sweden. Now our ship gains speed again, we had to wait for our slot at the quay. After a last waiting period during which the trucks disembark from the first cargo deck, a port bus takes us to the “Hafenhaus”. Back on solid ground is also back to reality: The worker driving the bus tells the steward who accompanies us about the pending labor dispute at the port. I had planned to take the train to my parents, but luckily the offered to give me a ride, so they have already spent some time here watching the ship tracker. It’s nearly midnight and I’m home.

Changed Plans Once More

Usually I find travel information on the internet quite reliable, but in this case it’s not. I wanted to take the ship on Sunday which, as it turns out, doesn’t exist. I consider flying, but on such short notice it’s intolerably expensive, so I have to leave on Saturday, which means I don’t even get to visit two bigger museums I had on my list. Well, I definitely have to come back here anyway, preferably at a time with either more snow or more sun. This first Saturday in November is All Saints in Finland, an official holiday, so there is not much traffic when I take the 45 minutes bus ride through Helsinki’s outskirts to Vuosaari harbor on this grey day.

Light and Dark

Apart from the physical darkness that already covers most of the day I get to think about light and dark in different countries’ history. As a German born in the 1980s, history has had a dark tinge for me from the beginning of my thinking. My country’s history is inevitably connected to the guilt of two world wars and especially an incomprehensible genocide. And we deal with it, too much so, as some see it. The second country I formed a strong bond with is Latvia where history is blackened mainly from the other side. Throughout all times Latvia has been independent for 44 years now, from the Russian Revolution in 1918 till the Soviet occupation in 1940 and since the renewal of independence in 1990. There are many days when Latvians fly the flags at half mast or with a black ribbon to remember the victims of genocide, war and occupation. In Germany we still have a slightly disturbed relationship with our national identity and our flag. I’ve always been really interested in history and how it is dealt with in the present. Even with quite a bit of background knowledge and having read about other and better times, too, I think I still can say grief and humiliation are central issues when dealing with German or Latvian history. Humiliation by the ancestors’ guilt and grief over the millions killed two to three generations ago, grief over a thereby broken relationship with one’s homeland. Humiliation of the victim and grief over so many people killed or torn from their home and families or forced into exile. The positive side may be that, hopefully, the best is yet to come. Both my countries had their peaceful revolution when the Cold War ended. I am a bit too young to fully remember that change of times, but I know that even a year before the Wall came down practically no one thinking about Berlin and Germany and Europe and the world being ripped in half would have imagined they’d live to see the Iron Curtain fall. And while in Germany and in a different way also in Europe we are still working to “rejoin what belongs together” as we say in Germany, Latvia is working to develop as a small, yet independent state inside a cooperative Europe, independent especially of Russia, where it never belonged.

In Finland I encounter more extreme views of history. One of my hosts is originally from Cambodia. To her genocide is not history in the sense that it is something that happened at the time of her grandparents or even earlier.

Finland on the other hand seems to be the first country I get to know better that doesn’t carry a trauma on the front page of its history. In that sense this dark country is a bit lighter than many. I gather that though Finland was not independent for most of its history and also was at war during WWII, it got around to having a narrative of sacrifices made for a cause that still counts as a good one till today. And not in vain. This small country succeeded in driving out both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union and finally gaining independence. Having a history with a most important event to be proud of is an unusual thought for a German.

PS

As I am posting this ten days after returning home and one week after 11/9, THE fateful date of German history (proclamation of the Republic in 1918, Hitler’s unsuccessful Munich Putsch in 1923, the Pogrom Night in 1938 and the opening of the Berlin Wall in 1989) we are shocked, sad and angry about a hideous crime against the memory of Greifswald’s Jews. In many towns all over Germany so-called Stolpersteine  (“stumbling stones”) mark the houses where Jews used to live until they were deported and killed or forced into flight or suicide in the 1930s and 1940s. Small brass squares in front of the houses they last lived in state their names, year of birth and some details about their fate like date of deportation and date and place where they were killed. Last week, on that very 9^th of November, the eleven stones in Greifswald were broken out of the pavement and stolen. History is never over. And we must be vigilant and fight for what we believe is right. As Brecht put it, the womb is still fertile. As strange as it seems there is a bright side to this shocking incident: We talk about it much more than we’d have done otherwise this year. Now there are flowers and candles at the sites where the stones are missing, demonstrations of solidarity, services press and TV. Not the best marketing for our region that something like this happened. But it backfired and I'd like to see as a reason for hope.

Design

On the next day Helsinki in fall shows its unfriendly face. It’s raining all day long; needless to say it never actually gets really light. I just wanted to quickly buy my ferry ticket and then use the dark day for a museum and a trip to the Arabia factory, but getting the tickets literally takes hours (more about that later) and I’m really unnerved when I finally get them. The nearby Academic Bookstore has at least some effect in cheering me up, first and foremost because there are JUST BOOKS. A small corner in the front for post cards, a small corner in the back with plastic figures of some comic book heroes and apart from that the whole room is packed with tables and shelves filled with BOOKS. No calendars, reading marks, note books, sweets and worthless decorations that tend to fill the ground floors of most big bookstores I know.  I realize how the tables and the only shoulder high shelves can be distracting, but it is also calming to just float around in a sea of books. Books in Finnish, Swedish, English, German, Russian, French. Two gallery floors hold children’s books and non-fiction and make the room even brighter. I take a look at the Finnish children’s books and talk a little to a young mother glowing with happiness who for some reason came here with her son who is six days old and doesn’t yet look as if he has really arrived in this world.

Iittala window decoration

After quite some time at the bookstore I take the tram to Arabianranta, the part of Helsinki northeast of the center where the factory of the long-standing ceramics and design company Arabia is located. The huge complex also holds and Iittala outlet and the Aalto University Aalto University founded in 2010 as a merger of three universities, among them the University of Art and Design Helsinki. It is named after Alvar Aalto (1898-1976), for many THE Finnish designer, but I also hear critical voices of people who don’t like his architecture and even less the protective way his family prevents changes to any of the buildings he designed.

I take the lift to the top floor, through its windows I get a short view of the inside of the university library, and visit the Arabia exhibition. Outside a curtain of rain hangs in front of the wooden villas nine floors below, up here I am on my own enjoying a handy introduction to the company’s history and the development of their designs and designers. You can also take a factory tour here, I don’t have time for that, but there are some examples of the making of a pot or a plate, from the mould to refining to coloring to glazing. Simply beautiful.

 

Anyway, about design. While Finland was more or less a developing country until the mid 20^th century – that’s what a Finnish lady told me on the ferry back home and others said something along the same line without putting it quite as drastically – it is now regarded as highly progressive in a friendly and thoughtful way, maybe it missed out on the 1960s’ aggressive belief in progress as a straight line heading to the sky, but that is just my wild guess. In 2001, however, Germany was shocked by our high school students’ poor performance in the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) held by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD). Finland scored highest in all subjects examined in the first three studies and competes for the top position with Shanghai and South-Korea in more recent studies. Emphasis was put on high standard education for students from all parts of society and creative ways of problem solving obviously prosper in this environment.

Helsinki is the World Design Capital 2012 , one of the reasons I wanted to come here this year, even in November. In Germany I get the impression that for many people design is a synonym for unnecessarily expensive versions of necessary items or absence of necessity all together. My impression of Finland is that people here have a broader and more practical understanding of the concept. At least this country and its 5.5 million inhabitants have a surprisingly high output of creative fashion and interior design which is valued at least all over Europe. And apart from the costly brands I see a lot of creative solutions to everyday problems, a small example my mother got me when my parents went to Finland five years ago: a small (elk-shaped…) wooden fork you can put between a pot and its lid to prevent both overboiling and excessive loss of heat.

In Helsinki I find a lot of recycling design and also a small kiosk design agency that concentrates on locally manufactured material for their products. Maybe the way how there is usually a thought or two put into how most ordinary things that you have to deal with quite often in public transport, shops etc. should look like in order to work better (that is, in order to let you instantly understand how they work) is one of the reasons why Helsinki is a very welcoming place and modern in a good way.

Helsinki

I return to Helsinki and find the regional train to the CouchSurfing hosts’ home and the way to their house without problems. I’m afraid I didn’t pay for the ride, though, as I didn’t understand the vending machine on the train and it was rush hour, so it was really crowded and the conductor who also sells tickets didn’t make it to my cart.

My hosts are really enthusiastic about CouchSurfing – they host virtually all the time. I feel welcome at once in this cheerful family and we spend the evening in animated conversations about our countries, history, what to see in Helsinki, art and much more.

The main thing I do on my first full day in Helsinki is walking around the city center around the Esplanade. It’s not always sunny, but it doesn’t rain, there are quite many people in the street, calmly hurrying towards their destination, not so many tourists, of course. I like the architecture, the broad streets. I can see why Helsinki is called the smallest metropolis in the world, it surely has a cosmopolitan air to it. At noon I meet Liza from the US who also stays with my hosts in the Music Center. The building is futuristic and a bit puzzling on the first sight, but after some orientation we find our free organ concert. I am quite fond of organs and this high square room holds one organ in the center of each wall, quite astonishing. I think I never saw such big instruments outside a church. After a short introduction in Finnish a young woman plays Bach and Buxtehude. The acoustics of the room are perfect.

 

 

Walking made us hungry and we find a university cafeteria. As we aren’t students of Helsingin Yliopisto (University of Helsinki, one of the few Finnish words I manage to remember) we have to pay the full price, but 7 Euros seem OK considering the general price level. As I heard from friends who spent their exchange year here it’s just normal that you can find not only a vegetarian option, but also vegan and lactose-free food. The full meal includes salad and bread, a warm dish (I choose fish pasta, good choice), a glass of water and a glass of juice or milk. Milk is a popular drink here and most people seem to prefer fat-free milk instead of that containing 0.4% fat. I never imagined it’s even possible to take all the fat out of milk… (And I personally don’t like the watery look or taste of it.)

In the afternoon I stroll around a mall to see what is different from German malls (there are some different foods in the supermarket and there is a Moomin shop, almost everything is expensive, and, not necessarily different, but remarkable, I get to taste some truly luxurious cupcakes which are vegan!). After that I visit the Amos Anderson Art Museum, a smaller museum for modern art, Panu’s father was involved in a current exhibition and so I got a free ticket! The exhibition Boutique is a collection of collaborations between artists and designers. I don’t know all that much about modern art, but I can say I like these installations and videos. I also like the paintings by Fanny Churberg which I can see on another floor and the founder’s interiors. Although it’s not a big museum I am quite exhausted and it’s pitch dark already. I decide to take a look at the Cathedral, the most frequently photographed building in Finland and return home. When I walked from the port I got a glimpse on the cathedral at some point, but it doesn’t fail to impress me now when it suddenly enters my view.

 

 

 

Brightly lit it resides above Senate Square, I have to take a lot of pictures, too. I climb the steep stairs and find the door open. Moreover, the boys’ choir is rehearsing and obviously it’s OK to sit down and listen. About 60 Cantores Minores aged from around eight to 15 in their ordinary clothes need a strong leader, but when they sing they sing very well. I look around the huge wide room and find it to be an attractive combination of magnificent gold decorations and wide areas painted in plain white (or light blue, it’s hard to tell). When the rehearsal is over I walk around a little and when I turn around the gigantic organ really strikes me with surprise. I’ve never seen a curved organ. It looks as if it could fly.

 

 

On my way home I try to walk a different way to the station and find myself in something that feels like an ancient cave. I've heard that large parts of public life happen in tunnels like these to avoid the cold.

Train, Turku and More Family

I reach the monumental train station in time to buy a ticket from the machine and find my train on a track outside of the hall. I am really impressed by this train. It’s called intercity train, has two stories and very comfortable seats.

At the end of each cart there is a phone booth – not one with a phone in it, of course, but if you wish to talk on your mobile you should do it in there in order not to disturb others. Nice thought. Fitting with my idea of Finns being a people that values quietness. I am even more astonished when I see the speed on the screen overhead, 140 km/h or more and it moves so smoothly through the winter landscape of rural Northern Europe that I can make some notes and my handwriting looks no different from usual, no involuntary scribbles or erratic lines. Maybe this is also due to the fact that as a former part of the Russian Empire Finish trains run on broad gauge railways. The two hours to Turku pass by easily with some writing and enjoying the view. Sometimes there are rough stone walls close to the railway which must be covered with water trickling down in many places in warmer times, now icy covers hang across it. Unfortunately I can’t take pictures of it so close to the window. I take photos of the landscape instead, it’s definitely wide enough. Even though there is some sea in between, I think the change in landscape from Lithuania through Latvia and Estonia to Finland is quite gradual. The main new aspect here seems to be that everything is wider, the houses further apart, longer stretches of the same, fields, forest. I don’t know if Southern Finland actually is even less densely populated than the Baltics, it looks like that to me.

 

My host brother picks me up at the station in Turku. We haven’t met for several years, but I don’t feel that at all. A brother stays a brother. Before we go home, he takes me to the cathedral which is still the main church of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland and the seat of its achibishop. This is a remainder of the times when Turku was the Finnish capital. The church is an impressive building with columns so high they make the whole room look light and elegant although it is built from massive and quite big stones. For some reason I didn’t take pictures, but you can see some on wikipedia.

After a 15 minutes drive outside of town we reach Juho’s home. He and his fiancée, their little son and a huge St. Bernhard’s dog live in a serial house close to a forest. We spend family time playing with my active little nephew, do some shopping at the mall and a quick sightseeing tour around Turku (including the castle, the port and the hospital where Juho and Annika work) and a lot of delicious Finnish food. Apart from reindeer with cranberry jam I get to know something new: Karelian pie. It is rice porridge baked inside a thin layer of rye dough and you eat it with a mix of boiled eggs and butter. Writing this down I can relate to Juho saying it sounds really strange when you describe it like that. But that’s what it is and we like it. And so do I. Before I leave on the next day Juho and I take a little walk with Reino in his buggy and the huge dog. The sun is shining and I understand I could have used sunglasses, at this time of the year the sun is blinding if you see it, of course, as it never rises very high. I see there are even sunglasses for babies, Reino is not a big fan, but he goes along with it.

Up North, to a New Country!

Monday I hit the road again. As always when I leave Latvia I feel a little sad, but the predominant feeling is a strong urge to come back as soon as possible and I already try to find a place in my calendar. I definitely plan to spend a part of my practical year here, but, of course, I have to come back before that.

This bus is not empty and the seats are quite narrow, so this ride is not too relaxing. Through the window I notice varying amounts of snow on the trees and meadows along the road. We pass through Salacgrīva, a small coastal town not too far from Limbaži where I spent my exchange year. The market square is close to the road and I remember the St. Michael’s market quite exactly eleven years ago at the beginning of my exchange year when everything was still new and incomprehensible to me. Seems like another life.

I’ve been to Tallinn only once before, also during my exchange year. This year I don’t have time to see anything of the city, it’s dark throughout my stay and in the evening there is a chilly drizzle. So I spend a relaxed evening with my host cousin at her apartment, she studies opera singing here. The ferry to Helsinki leaves at eight and you have to check in one hour before that, so I have to get up fairly early. I am rewarded with a quiet winter morning, just enough people outside to ask for directions when needed, and a magnificent pink sun rise over the harbor. Once on board I find a seat opposite a big window and just enjoy the view. The ship is quite full, mostly middle aged Russian women, each with two huge trunks. I wonder if they go to work in Finland and take their food with them to save money. Russian is the predominant language around me.

Once more I pass one of these unnoticeable borders – and I enter a country I haven’t been to before! I have one and a half hours to get from the quay to the central station, even with the backpack enough time for one kilometer, so I can walk around a little to get some first impressions of Helsinki. Road signs are in Finnish and Swedish here, which helps to learn some Finnish and makes it easier to know I’m on the right way. After passing the Uspenski Cathedral, the largest Orthodox church in Western Europe, I also happen to walk past the presidential palace as the change of guards.

There were free maps of Helsinki on the ferry, so I know the tourist information is right on my way to the station, on the Pohjois Esplanadi (Northern Esplanade), a central axis of the city center. The Esplanade Park was established at a turning point of Helsinki’s history, large parts of the city had burnt down in 1808 and the city was to become the capital of the Grand Duchy of Finland inside the Russian Empire in 1812 (big anniversary this year!), so there was need for a new town plan. The park used to be exclusive for the gentry in the beginning, but was opened for all members of the society in the course of time. During WWI it even served as a vegetable field, quite a history.

I collect some material at the tourist information to read on the train and enjoy some window shopping at stores of some of the most famous Finnish design companies like Marimekko and Iittala.