04.07.2008 - 21:13
VISITING LAPLAND WITH MY NEW FRIENDS FROM CONGO, SUDAN, BURMA, IRAN & MOROCCO DAY ONE – LES PETITS HOMMES
- Les petits hommes? - Where are the little people? – I haven't seen any yet.
Jean, a Congolese man asks Maiju in French, in earnest. Maiju looks at me while translating the question. We wonder if he's talking about the Sami or 'the little people' known to live in Lapland. I tell him in Finnish to keep looking. You never know when one appears. We're hiking on the Paljakka Fell in Finnish Lapland. After a 12-hour bus ride from Jyväskylä to the Eastern part of Lapland, familiar to Rafu and me from our ski trip in the spring, the hiking group changed into proper gear, packed the backpacks and took off. We thought we would hike 9 km to set up camp, but found out a day later that we had actually managed 15. The scenery was very different from anything we had ever experienced. We passed the tree line on the tundra-like terrain and hiked up a slowly ascending hill, called tunturi, a fell. There were areas of slippery snow and long stretches of rocks of various shapes that made walking slow and tedious. Nothing seemed to stop the four Burmese among our group, though. They requested the rest of us to speed up. –No way - we told them, asking for an explanation for their ease.
– Just like the terrain in Northern Burma, near Chinese border. From then on, they were nicknamed the Burmese guerrillas. 
Looking for Les Petits Hommes
- finally - a break!
We finally made it to the hut that could accommodate a few of us. The rest of us set up tents on the sloping, rocky hill close to midnight. But the hour of the day hardly matters. The sun doesn't set at all, so night hiking is fine. Matti, our leader, started to prepare dinner. – Who's got the cheese? Who's got the sausages to be roasted on the campfire? It turned out the bus refrigerator had got it all. We started laughing . . . too tired to care. When Matti announced that he couldn't find the teabags, we laughed some more and happily drank hot water with sugar and ate bread toasted on the grill. The Burmese had carried the bread . . . all eight loaves of it! - We all knew what would be for breakfast. DAY TWO – TRAVELING UP THE ARM
We woke up at 6 AM, had our bread and water and hiked back another route, A mere 6-7 kilometers. A hotel sauna and plentiful breakfast awaited us when we marched into the yard, singing. The song was written en route and obviously included a verse on the missing sausage and cheese. After boarding everyone onto the bus – a major task - we drove another 200 km up the arm of The Maiden of Finland. If you look at the map of Finland, you'll notice she's shaped like a maiden. Her right arm is missing, and her skirt on the right is cut off – due to the peace treaty with the Soviet Union after the Continuation War, September 1944. Finland had to cede all of Petsamo, by the Arctic Ocean, the Karelian Isthmus, between the Gulf of Finland and Lake Ladoga, and territories to the West and North of Ladoga and lease some other territories. Together with Salla and Petsamo, islands and leased territories, Finland had to cede 43,491 square kilometers to the Soviet Union. That represented nearly 12.5 per cent of the country – an area larger than all Denmark. The scenery might be monotonous, but the bus ride is quite the opposite. Our group includes 14 Sudanese, 24 Congolese, four Burmese and one Kurd. There is a main leader, Kutti with her 11-year-old daughter and four assistant leaders: four Finns, one Moroccan, and myself, a volunteer, and my California-born children, Maiju and Rafael. We make a lively scene. The largest family is Congolese, 11 of them from 11-moth-old Isaac to 75-year-old diabetic grandma, Veronique. There are other toddlers, Isaac's uncle, 16-month-old Jean-Pierre, one-year-old Sarah, and a two year-old Ester. They become communal children, being passed from one set of arms to another, and another . . . tenderly cared for. 
Performing on the bus One of my favorite scenes occurred on the ride to Kilpisjärvi, up the arm. We stopped at a war museum, commemorating the Lapland war – which occurred when Finns, who had invited Germany to help, had to ask them to leave based on the 1944 Peace Treaty with the Soviet Union. In retaliation Germany burned down the entire Finnish Lapland. What was truly amusing during this serious visit: our group was standing in the trenches while the guide and the four interpreters stood on a gorgeous hill, all interpreting at the same time. It was a true tower of Babel moment as people tried to distinguish their native language from the mixture of Swahili, French, Arabic or Burmese. The museum was a moving experience as the refugees saw a new side of Finland that had so far shown her well-off, well-designed, well-to-do side. The refugees had many questions about the suffering Finns had gone through – and about their new home country that has been built up from the ashes, to their great surprise. We arrived at a cabin village by the Lake Kilpisjärvi and the second tallest fell in Finland, SaanaTunturi. We settled in comfortable, beautiful cabins, had dinner and gathered at a Kota, a large Sami tepee for a night of dance, song and laughter. DAY THREE – FREEZING AT THE ARCTIC OCEAN, CONQUERING THE MIGHTY SAANA - & SEEING JESUS?
The third day took us abroad. Many Congolese had asked about crossing the boarder since we were driving up one side of River Tornio, looking at the other side, Sweden. It was hard for them to believe that no one would really care if we crossed to Sweden or Norway. This was proven true on our trip to the Arctic Ocean, in Norway. There didn't seem to be any officials at the boarder station, but then we did see a wave and a smile from both a Finnish and Norwegian border guard. Our refugees, who had gone through incredible suffering and sacrifices crossing other borders in their lives, just shook their heads in disbelief.
Burmese lunch at the Arctic Ocean
After a cool, gray day in lush, green Norway – effects of the Gulf Stream, we returned to Finland for dinner. The sun suddenly brightened the evening sky, and a quick decision was made to climb Saana that night. Young and old, about 40 of us, climbed the Saana Fell for four hours. It was windy, but bright on top. We got to record our names in a book, kept in a metal box at the peak, and admire the scenery all around us. The Norwegian mountains looked majestic, still covered in snow, the Swedish ones resembled more the fells on the Finnish side. The special yellow structure marking the border between Finland, Sweden and Norway, was hidden in between fells, maybe ten kilometers away. We made it back to our cabins by 10:30 PM, in the bright 'daylight', had a sauna – and slept tight! 
A view showing Finland, Sweden and Norway as seen from the mighty Saana
In the evening, in our cottage, Totti, 13, impressed at Maiju's climbing the Saana, looked her in the eyes and asked a straight question with a glimmer in his eye,
-Well, did you see Jesus?
-Where?
-Up on the Saana, you were so close to taivas. (taivas = heaven and sky, in Finnish).
When Maiju shook her head, Totti further advised Maiju:
-You should have reached up to catch Jesus' hand. Maybe he would have let down a ladder, and you could have had a sneak preview of heaven.
Then Totti's younger sister Glody chimed in:
-Yeah, but it would have been pretty bad if you had pulled Jesus' foot instead - it's a big place - heaven is; maybe it was better that you didn't even try!
Maiju agreed with a laugh. 
The Sudanese occupation of Saana
DAY FOUR –VISITING REINDEER & - EATING SOME, TOO!
Everyone was excited about the visit to a reindeer farm. We had time to stop by in the local Nature Museum where we learned about the natural wonders of Lapland and the Aurora Borealis. The walk was slow, the pace set by grandma Veronique with her walker. After the museum, a reindeer herder, Juha, told stories of his profession in a large Kota, where we sat on benches covered by reindeer skin. Maiju and I glanced at Jean when Juha's stories turned to Maahiset, little people or les petits hommes. Finally, some 'facts' delivered. Juha ended the Kota time with a yoking performance. Then everyone got to throw suopunki, a lasso, used catching reindeer by the horns at the annual Poroerottelu, Reindeer Separation. We walked back to enjoy a dinner of – guess what? Sautéed reindeer with mashed potatoes and lingonberry sauce – a Lapland specialty. 
Men from four nations: a Sami, a Burmese, a Congolese, and a California Finn
Totti practicing lassoing a reindeer
National costumes are colorful everywhere
Since this was the last night before a 7 AM departure, we spent it in our 'own' Kota, singing, dancing and making crepes over the open fire. Pastor Raimo, one of the leaders, shared his happiness of the African drumming and singing. Having spent 10 years in Senegal with his family he appreciated the 'back at home' feeling of joy and community. The Burmese guys joined in with a guitar and song, and we also poems, recited in Kurdish. In the end, we all joined in a song in Finnish and Arabic and closed the night in prayer. 
Everybody loves Isaac 
Isaac's uncle, Jean-Pierre, has gotten drumbeat in his blood DAY FIVE - JOULUPUKKI, HABIBI & AU REVOIR
Trying to get all 53 of us in the bus is a miracle. This time, at 7 AM, it involved stuffing the bottom of the bus with baby strollers, hiking gear and suitcases. When the doors close, there's always the electric moment of counting heads. Did anyone manage to hide behind the Kota, in one of the saunas, at the rushing river nearby, etc. All were counted in, and we took off, waving good bye to our hostesses. We had been driving about 15 km. when, to everyone's horror, a reindeer leaped onto the road on a whim and was hit by the bus, dying immediately. We all felt sad; it might well have been one of Juha's reindeer. A call to the local authorities took care of what we learned was a fairly common occurrence, and we continued in silence. But Kutti, our able boss, had a more pleasant surprise waiting – a visit to the Arctic Circle in Rovaniemi where the real Santa Claus, Joulupukki, keeps his official tourist quarters. He actually lives in Korvatunturi, the Ear Fell, an ear-shaped fell in Eastern Lapland - but that is off limits to everyon but the elves. Joulupukki has chosen the fell for its ear-shape, so that he can listen to all the children in the world when they whisper their Christmas wishes to him. A very exotic-looking group photo with Joulupukki was taken, souvenirs bought, and snacks eaten before we piled back on the bus. 
Our sweet leader,Kutti, with final goodies: Brunberg's kisses for all! After seventeen hours on the road with many stops, quizzes, multilingual singing, and dancing to our theme song, Habibi, in Arabic, we pulled into our first stop in Jyväskylä. The same scene of hugs and kisses, sleeping babies placed in strollers, bags pulled and happy but tired smiles was repeated four times before reaching our final destination, the main parish building in the center. It was one in the morning when I tiptoed into my friend's apartment to fall into a deep sleep. But it took me several days to be back on terra firma . . . the experience was so joyful and amazing that I felt lifted off firm ground for days. . . . next year - in Kilpisjärvi . . .
27.06.2008 - 18:24
They're All Turning 50!When I chose this particular year to spend in Finland, one reason was the many major birthdays, special people in my life have in 2008. First my mom turned 80 in January, my sister-in-law, Leena, celebrated her 50th in March, my dear friend, Sirpa, hers on our shared birthday, May 4th, and my little brother, Antti-Jussi his on June 1st. Turning fifty has always been a reason for a major celebration in Finland. There used to be an almost formulaic way to celebrate this important event, but this is, after all 2008 – and people are becoming more and more individualistic. Thus, the ways to celebrate are many. All three of the 50th birthday celebrations this spring have been quite different. LEENA
Leena turned 50 on March 11. We received a beautiful, handmade invitation in late February. The party took place in an old, intimate restaurant, Wellamo, (http://www.wellamo.fi/) in the Katajanokka district of Helsinki, right behind the Finnish Orthodox Uspensk Cathedral. Forty-four lucky invitees, family and friends, filled every chair in the small space. There were toasts and a delicious menu with drinks to match as well as a touching speech by Risto, Leena's husband, my brother. WINES
Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin Brut Champagne
Pilsner Urquell / Bon Aqua
Marques De Riscal Rueda 2006
Prince Hubert de Polignac XO Cognac / Campari Cordial
MENU
Kylmäsavuporonpaistia ja sienisalaattia
aistettua siikaa, parsaa ja pinaattiperunaduchesse
Vadelmajäädyke
Kahvi / Tee
Lauantaina 15. maaliskuuta 2008
Galleria-Ravintola Wellamo, Helsinki  Speech by husband, Risto  Having a good time, getting to know new people
Wellamo has wonderful, intimate atmosphere
After dinner, a bus took us to Puistola, Risto and Leena's home to continue the celebration with a cake, drinks, more food, and a guitar-playing musician who led us in singing. Naturally, Leena received lots of flowers, cards and presents. It was a beautiful party – perfectly suited for the wonderful birthday girl! Congratulations, Leena, my wonderful sister-in-law !
SIRPA
. . . with her favorite flowers, lilies-of the-valley On May 4th, Sirpa Y. – a dear friend since the early 80's in Berkeley – had her turn in turning 50. A regular globetrotter, she decided to travel with her daughters to Switzerland for her birthday. I caught her on a brunch cruise on the Lake Ägeri when calling to sing Happy Birthday. Later, the daughters, Laura and Kirsti, and godson, our Rafael, prepared a fancy, five-course dinner for Sirpa's large immediate family. Unfortunately, it was scheduled for the same day as the next party, my brother's. So, Rafu and I cooked a sushi lunch for Sirpa, Laura and Kirsti to celebrate on May 18, a day before Rafael's 16th birthday. It was a joyous, comfortable occasion with good food and nice wine to match, with a special dessert of glög-sorbet prepared by Kirsti, the designated dessert chef. Happy, happy birthday, Sirpa, my dear friend!
. . . sushi . . . and . . .
. . . the sushi sirpas
Yrjönmäki family dinner party
ANTTI-JUSSI
On May 31, I emptied and cleaned the new apartment as we were to become 'homeless' the next day, June first, which was also my brother's 50th. After leaving the place spotless Finnish style = literally spotless, with the help of three women friends and two 1-year-old girls, I drove five hours to Paltamo. On Sunday, June 1, the first relatives arrived around noon. The main celebration was unusual: seurat (= a Christian worship meeting) at church at 5:30 PM, followed by a reception at the Parish Building. It was a wonderful celebration. My brother, Antti-Jussi, opened the meeting with a humorous but very meaningful speech, explaining his choice of hymns. They were all selected because of some special significance, from a seafarer history of our mother's father's family to my parents' favorite hymns. There were four inspiring speeches by four ministers. There was also a collection in lieu of presents. Antti wanted to participate in the 'Give a Different Gift' –program. Various domestic animals worth 700 euros will be provided for African families for food and income.  The parish employees serenading Antti w/a song written by Pastor Turunen  Family congratulating Antti-Jussi
Around 7, we moved to the Parish house for coffee and goodies, including a birthday cake. A musician friend, Juha, performed Christian protest rock songs from the 70's before we all went home.
Juha performing, with Hilla's help
Then Antti and I rode our bikes to Risto & Leena's golf house a few kilometers away to continue the celebration with Risto, Leena, Tiina, and cousin Outi and her husband, Simo. Antti was toasted with fine wine until midnight when the birthday boy and I rode our bikes back to my mom's house in the summer night lightness.
Happy birthday one more time!
A midnight ride back home
What a great day! Onnea Antti-Jussi, my little brother – now you have reached 'a man's age'! Such wonderful birthday celebrations! Who's next? I'm ready to keep on partying!
12.06.2008 - 12:05
KÖKÄR
The cottage is red. The side paneling looks like well-painted wood until I discover it’s metal, imitating wood – and actually covering old wood, painted the same warm red. In this sea washed and windswept coastal area, wood probably wouldn’t last long with the damp air and wind blowing from Saaristomeri, the sea between Finland and Sweden. The little red cottage is located in the Åland Archipelago, the island of Kökar, the Southernmost community of Finland, two hours South East of the Åland Islands. My friend, Eija, paints here every summer, and finally, I have made it to her secret hideout.
I drove from Jyväskylä to Helsinki on Thursday night with a new UC Berkeley friend, David I had met in a conference. We had a nice four-hour drive, refreshed by a plunge into the Hartola River about half way down. In Helsinki, Eija and I packed her painting canvases, brushes, etc. in the car, took a sauna and left at 1:30 AM. To get to Kökar, we had to drive about 150 km and take three ferries between islands. Our third ferry left at 6:30 AM, and by 9 AM, we arrived at the cottage. The keys were hanging in the door, and Eija had decorated the house with white lilacs and apple blossoms before her departure to Helsinki two days prior. The sun lit the simple cottage brilliantly. Eija showed me around: the large main room, her bedroom, my bedroom, the outhouse behind the lush purple lilac bushes in full bloom, the piped faucet to get fresh water, and the sauna by the sea, about half a kilometer down the dirt road. Gorgeous! Absolutely! – And Eija has rented this charmingly run-down paradise for 400 euros for the entire month of June.
With fresh coffee in our mugs, we sat outside in the sunshine. Later, I heard a cuckoo bird and counted . . . it kept cuckooing . . . thirty three times. According to the Finnish tradition, that equals the years one has left. I’d be quite happy with thirty-three more! Later, we feasted on local smoked flounder.
The island belongs to Ahvenanmaa or Åland, an island province consisting of 6500 islands and - what some call – the most gorgeous archipelago in the world. Ahvenanmaa is an autonomous, demilitarized, administrative Province, both Finland and Sweden historically tried to make part of their respective countries. The decision by the League of Nations in 1921 joined Ahvenanmaa to Finland. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%85land)
The whole island is monolingually Swedish speaking, so you greet every passer-by with a smile, wave of you hand, and a cheery Hej! with a melodic Swedish intonation. The storekeeper can manage accented Finnish if a customer can’t do Swedish, but the natural first choice is always Swedish - so I am trying my best. Our jovial landlord and his friendly wife got our rusty tongues moving ‘på svenska’. We have rented bikes and every day, we leave on an adventure. Yesterday, we rode our bikes to the island church, built in 1784, decorated with miniature votive sailboats, typical in a coastal village, hanging from the ceiling. Sailors in danger would make a promise to God and later fulfill it by building a replica of their ship and donating it to the church. Next to the church, there’s a museum dedicated to the Franciscan friars who arrived on the island in the 15th century. Long before that, about 1000 BC seal hunters had settled on the island. There’s also a cemetery with old – and some new gravestones. Maybe some of the new ones belong to the last two fishermen who died last year. Now, there are no commercial fishermen on the island as young people are not interested in the harsh island life but leave for the mainland for study and work. We also visited the campground and stopped by at the beautiful new, refreshingly styled hotel and restaurant bar for a glass of cold cider.   Our evening adventure, after a sauna and swim in the very refreshing sea, included an adventure to the volunteer fire department hall where a dance took place. Two villagers were performing. We rode our bikes in our nice shoes and skirts to find just about a handful of older people sitting around. We decided not to get the 15-euro-tickets, but rode our bikes back, stopping to greet the three white cows Eija is trying to befriend. Hoping to paint them she believes daily friendly words can calm the suspicious animals down to lie still as future models. – We later found out that the dance had been a huge success with over 100 people partying by midnight. -Sunday, we arrived at the hotel at 2 PM to splurge on lunch – and to use the wireless Internet. Sitting by the water, outside, we ate fish and chips. The fish was sea-perch, caught by the still-living fishermen, residing on the next island west, Foglö. The young chef, taking a break, entertained us with tales of the archipelago. He had moved here with his wife permanently a year ago. Enjoying the island paradise rest of the year, they escape to Southern France to taste wine or to Northern Finland to ski in the cold, damp winters. Sounds like a life! Eija painted an island watercolor scene of sea grass, framed by boathouses and cottages while I answered email. Later, we took a walk to smell and photograph lilacs, wild roses, mountain ashes, and many nameless wild flowers in the small grassy meadows and around rocks and cliffs. First time, the wind swept the yard with such force that we had dinner inside the cottage. Then - music and a cup of cardamom tea in candlelight . . . sent us to Höyhensaari (the island of feathers = land of the sleepy) after even the sun had finally decided to go to bed.
On Monday night, our colleague, Heidi, arrived and we set to work on our web-based Finnish literature course. The weather had turned cloudy and damp, enabling us to stay in the cottage to work. On our lunch break we drove to the island museum to explore how Kökar people used to live. We also found a farm where the young off-spring was selling farm products in a barn, turned store: apple-gooseberry cider, hot apple salsa, hand-knit gloves and jelled apple, juniper, and mountain ash preserve. With big bags full of goodies we returned to our modern project. (http://aplagarden.net/gardsbutiken.php)On Tuesday night, we had an excellent dinner in the hotel/restaurant, Brudhäll (http://www.visitaland.com/en/brudhall). We ate sea perch, new potatoes and wild strawberry Brule with champagne mousse. The view was ethereal with low clouds and the sun peeking through. On the terrace, while shooting photos, an elderly gentleman in pink pants approached me. He struck a conversation with me. Turned out he was a Virginian, sailing the area for the third summer with his pals. He was surprised at the young wait staff’s interest in the US politics. He proudly announced he would be voting for McCain, naturally, pointing to his grey head. I quickly announced my Berkeley roots and Obama affection, and we bid polite farewell.
Wednesday night, Eija, the lucky temporary islander, saw us off, and we took the 6:30 PM ferry away from the paradise found. It’s a far away hiding place. We arrived in Jyväskylä at 3 AM. tired but happy.
26.05.2008 - 10:33
The fragrance of the tuomi or bird cherry trees with their nodding white clusters of flowers is highly intoxicating. I'm taking a walk with my friend, Tuija, and her poodle, Touho, on the almost white banks of Tourujoki, the Touru River. No – no snow any more, but so many bird cherry trees, so full of blooms that the whole area is blanketed snow white. This is the neighborhood where Robert and I would ride our bikes on Sundays to admire the old, wooden houses, built for working class families in the beginning of the century. There are none left, but Tourula is a popular family neighborhood, very close to downtown Jyväskylä. Nicely designed apartment buildings are set far enough apart to allow room for big yards and a lot of open space for the new Tourula dwellers. Of course, the romantic feel of the run-down wooden houses is gone (No, I'll never learn – as you can see, my addiction to wooden fixer-uppers dates back many, many years!)
Happy campers, Tuija & Touho
Tourujoki
Sirpa inhaling the frangrance of tuomi - bird cherry trees
Rafu sighed the other night, why can't it always be like this in Jyväskylä! It is pretty awesome and breathtaking. The campus boasts of bird cherries, daffodils, tulips and many other kinds of blooming bushes and little and big, short and tall flowers whose names escape me in any language. Yesterday, Tuija and I marveled our 'break room', as we stretched on a grassy area with tulips, right outside our offices. On my way home at lunch time, a group of music students and professors had set up their chairs in front of the Music Building on campus. They were playing eclectic tunes in the sunshine. A definite sign of spring!  Campus musicians
Sirpa & Tuija in their 'break room'
The light doesn't stop surprising us even though we should be used to it by now. We are now downtown dwellers for a month and taking full advantage of it. Last night we had a Tapas dinner in a Mediterranean restaurant, less than five minutes from our new home, and then walked another five minutes to catch the opening night of the new Indiana Jones film. - Oh, that Harrison Ford . . . I'm so glad he's aging along with me. He's perfect! What a man! And my husband does look like him, doesn't he! Now, back to the light! It's a long movie, and it was 10:45 PM when Rafu and I were walking home. It was still dusk as the sun had officially set at 10:30 PM. I finally caught Rafu on film in front of his high school, the oldest Finnish-speaking high school in Finland, Jyväskylän Lyseo, turning 150 this year. Lyseo has graduated many a famous Finn, such as the internationally acclaimed, functionalistically artistic architect and designer, Alvar Aalto, whose following quote is one of my favorites, Yes, of course you can and must fly, but it should be with one foot on the ground - or at least a big toe.(http://virtual.finland.fi/netcomm/news/showarticle.asp?intNWSAID=26966)Also the inventor of our national sport, pesäpallo (Finnish style baseball), Lauri "Tahko" Pihkala. is a graduate of Jyväskylän Lyseo. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pes%C3%A4pallo)The beautiful building is described as Maurian-Tudor style, and it is said to have a "Genius Lycei" – The Spirit of the Lyceo, still strongly at present.
 Rafu at night (no fash used!) in front of his high school,
the famed Jyväskylän Lyseo
I shot photos without a flash at 10:45, and a group of young people was sitting on the green slopes of Harju, the ridge, in the middle of Jyväskylä that our apartment building faces. This is the late spring in the north, which is along with the early summer something magical I wish you all could experience at least once!
Pine trees at night on Harju, the Ridge
An official note: The sun rose today, May 26, at 3:53 AM. It will set at 10:37 PM. The dawn lasted 2 hours and 4 minutes and the dusk 31 minutes. That gives us 22 hours and 27 minutes of lightness. Talk about A loooong Incredible Lightness of Being!!!
24.05.2008 - 10:00
ILOISTA VAPPUA!! MAY DAY 2008 in TURKU
The scenes in the yards moved me back in time. Immediately, I thought of a summer yard scene painting by Carl Larsson. I was walking through an area, called Nummi (a small hill), originally a workers part of Turku, where single-family houses had been built from the early 1900's through 1950's. Many houses are sc. Rintamamiestalo (a fronteer man house), named aptly for the men who were given a lot and aid to build a home after they returned from WW II.
Rafael and I had arrived in Turku around 7:30 PM, after moving to our new apartment in Jyväskylä. I'm renting a little car from a friend, so we drove. It's the first time ever I've had a car in Finland, and it's a lot of fun to be able to cruise around. Turku, the old capital of Finland, is located a little over 300 kilometers southwest of Jyväskylä, on the coast, built on both sides of Aurajoki, the Aura River. It was April 30, the Eve of May Day, and the biggest carnival-like party of the year. Rafu stayed at our friends, Johanna and Juha's house where Otto, 16, was hosting a party for his friends while I took off with a little map to find Johanna's brother and sister-in-law's house. The road that could be called a lane, took me through an area where many large yards hosted a dinner party. With the lilacs blooming and sun shining, it was a very unusual Vappu weather. Normally, even though dressed for the beginning of summer, everyone is repaired for cold wind and rain, even hail, which seems to be traditional Vappu weather, but not this year! It was still almost +20 C at 7:30 PM. Kids were running around happily in the summery night while adults were toasting to spring and summer with bubbly or the traditional Vappu drink, sima. Most adults were wearing their high school graduation caps, which are only worn once a year, at Vappu. – I managed to borrow one since mine's in Berkeley. There's no Vappu without the ylioppilaslakki! The scene was happy and festive. I arrive at the yard. The house is a beautiful, wooden house, painted warm yellow. The adults are waiting for the BBQ around a long table, the kids are running around, and the babies are being handed from one lap to another. It's warm enough to sit outdoors until about 10 PM when we finally move in to have dessert and coffee.The next day is Vappu, the International Worker's Day, Students Holiday, and even an annual celebration by the clergy – so no-one's left out. In the days of my childhood, we would watch the Vappu March, a demonstration by the leftists where signs such as this one were carried by the demonstrators. Nowadays, demonstrations have swindled to almost nothing. Political activism by regular Finns is down. The Left claims that other parties have 'stolen' Vappu from them as even the right wing politicians travel around giving speeches. So, we didn't even find out if Turku hosted a march, but prepared a lot of sushi rolls, a huge potato salad, baquettes and brie, packed bottles of sparkling wine and sima, and joined thousands of others with our blankets and quilts on Vartiotorninmäki, a hill where Turku people gather on Vappu morning to have a picnic.
Otto enjying a fresh munkki, baked by his mom, Johanna
There is music and balloons, Vappu pom-poms and the ever-present white graduation caps. You MUST eat some munkkis (delicious, churro-like, doughnut-shape pastries), funnel cakes – and herring if you parted too much the night before. But we hadn't! Johanna's three daughters with boyfriends in tow joined us. Most students wear overalls covered by earned labels. You can earn them for good works or other accomplishments. They come in different colors, denoting the department you're a student in. I wish we'd had them in my student days. I've been trying to find one to buy. Better late than never! - The students at the Department of History, like Johanna's daughter, Lotta, will not be seen in overalls but show up in their black capes instead!
traditional Vappu picnic
A long walk around town and a delicious lamb BBQ, prepared by Juha, concluded our Vappu. Vappu this year fell perfectly on a Thursday. Most people got Friday off, and it was a nice, long weekend before the last rush of the end of the school year.
sima & tippaleipä are Vappu delicasies
HAUSKAA VAPPUA!!!
20.05.2008 - 00:08
*IN MEMORIAM*
A tribute to the amazing, great, quiet man with a shy smile
Aimo Johannes Hourula
January 16, 1916 - March 22, 2008  AIMO's 90th birthday January 16, 2006 My husband had prepared me to meet his dad, Aimo. He's open, outgoing and talkative – and he'll be so happy to have a real Finnish daughter-in-law, Roope had told me. When a quiet, short man greeted me in accented English at San Francisco International Airport in October 1976, he didn't quite match my preconceived ideas. The beginning wasn't that easy for either of us as we came from two, very different Finlands. Aimo, like many other Finns, had left a worn-torn, poor country with no future. I, on the other hand, a recent college graduate, an English major, had had serious doubts about moving away from my modern, comfortable Finland, full of opportunities. But, it didn't take that long for me to start appreciating Aimo's ever-present kindness, generosity and persistent Finnish energy, SISU. So little by little, this small, quiet man charmed me. We gave him a granddaughter in March 1978, and he became a proud and involved Ukki. He got a new car, a sporty, grey Oldsmobile with red leather interior the same day Maiju turned one. That night, when he came over for birthday cake, Maiju took her first steps as she ran across the living room to meet her ukki. Later, we all went for a spin in the Olds, ending up in a bar on Shattuck Avenue to toast Maiju! Because of her birthday, Maiju was allowed in to sit on the bar counter and chew on olives, meant for martinis. This was still the 70's, after all! I started graduate school when Maiju was nine months old, and Aimo-ukki became a big help. He picked up Maiju from childcare, and later from preschool and happily babysat any time. On her second birthday, ukki took Maiju to the legendary Berkeley toy store, Mr. Mopps, and they returned with a little farm, a present Maiju had chosen. Ukki was overjoyed when little brother, Johannes came along three years later. He himself was a father of two sons, after all. Johannes was named after Aimo Johannes and Olli Johannes, his two grandpas. Johannes grew into a fisherman who provided Ukki with one of the proudest moments of his life when on a salmon fishing trip, as an 8-year-old, Johannes pulled in the biggest salmon and collected the money pool. Maybe even more satisfying for Aimo-ukki was witnessing Johannes hand over his third fish to an old Finnish fisherman, ukki's rival, who had caught none. Johannes and ukki fished together and also shared their passion for the SF Giants until the very end. Matlena was born in 1983 and charmed Ukki - like every old man since the days of her being a wide-blue-eyed infant. She enjoyed, in her turn, lunches with Ukki at Spengers Seafood Restaurant with special treatment from the senior waiters. She ordered shrimp scatter for years and years, just like her siblings, until one day, she realized that she was eighteen, and that she could order the same thing Ukki did: Dungeness crab or swordfish. The lunches continued, and Ukki and Marilyn even expanded the restaurant selection beyond Spengers to treat Matlena, and later boyfriend, John. Matlena, artist, also became an artist buddy to Marilyn, another artist. Rafael joined our family in 1992. Ukki was very happy for another grandson – after all, he had by now four granddaughters! Rafael helped with yard work and shared sport stories with Ukki. He also interviewed Ukki for a school project on the Winter War and included Ukki's personal experiences in his report. Through this project, we all learned a lot more about Ukki's input in defending Finland to stay independent. A very meaningful event that Ukki attended was Rafael's confirmation in March 2007. It was a joyous occasion to see three generations of Hourula men in church and at lunch, afterwards. Ukki was physically very fit and watched his diet carefully. When we started taking dinners to Ukki and Marilyn occasionally instead of inviting them over to avoid late night driving, we always made sure we cooked healthy. Ukki enjoyed good food, and I sneaked in some salmon dinners to him when he was in a nursing home in Oakland in the summer 2007. This was a small token to thank him for the barbecues in his backyard where we always enjoyed ukki-caught and -cooked, delicious, fresh salmon. Aimo enjoyed any fish, and we cooked a salmon lunch for about 40 friends to celebrate his 90th birthday. In his typical manner, Aimo didn't think he was worth celebrating. But we convinced him to let us throw a party, and it became a joyous event at the Finnish Hall, with family joining to prepare the feast, and over 40 guests participating in the celebration, some all the way from Florida. Maybe my happiest memory is the summer 2003, the only time Ukki and our family were in Finland at the same time. We had talked Ukki into applying for veterans' rehabilitation spa in Rovaniemi. He didn't think he could stand two weeks of 'the prison' as he put it, so the veteran's organization allowed him to come for just one. We spent Juhannus, midsummer, together at Kitro, our family's cabin, taking saunas and catching and cooking fish. We also took a trip to Ukki's hometown, Nivala, and even visited the little house he was born in. We had coffee with relatives and drove back after midnight through a big island, Manamansalo, in Lake Oulujärvi, taking small ferries at each end. When we got to the mainland, about 20 km from our cabin, we stopped for a pee break. I'll never forget Ukki, then an 88–year-old, running to the other side of the road, jumping over a fence and hiding behind a big spruce tree in the nightless night, in the far North. We all just laughed and shook our heads in disbelief. Our adventures in that summer also took us to Raatteentie, an area by the Russian border where Ukki had fought in the war in the late 1930's. We stood at the border area, looking over into the in-between, no-man's land, and visited the museum and the moving monument: a field, full of rocks with bells in a pole in the middle to remind us of the huge sacrifice by Finnish men, women and children. Our fathers and other countrymen had really paid a high price to provide us with an independent Finland. I felt humbled and grateful, especially to my own father and Aimo, both of the same vintages of 1916. The veterans' spa ended up a wonderful experience for Ukki. Cute, blond, young nurses taking care of him, great food in a beautifully constructed building with clean, modern facilities – all provided for free - impressed Ukki so much, he begged to stay another week, but the place was booked up. An added bonus: other veterans to fight the war with one more time. Ukki came back rested and energized. Aimo was a skilled gardener, providing me with a weekly bag of fresh, ready-washed produce almost year around. He added new plants according to my wishes: more beets and red onions, and arrugola, our Italian novelty. Ukki's garden also produced plums and blackberries, lettuce, spinach, potatoes, and sweetest of cherry tomatoes I've ever tasted. Even when he was getting weaker, we had him sit on the little balcony, by the side of the garden, and fed him his own produce. In September 2007 I left for a Sabbatical in Finland. I came back for a visit in November and just knew that it was time for good byes. Ukki was so happy to see me. His eyes got bright and he nodded and tried to talk. We prayed together. I had sensed a new openness to matters of faith since the spring 2007. On my birthday in May, he had insisted on getting me a card with a scripture on it. Marilyn is the one who told me that. My Christian women's group in Jyväskylä was praying daily during the November visit; they had 'adopted' Aimo as a new friend, and on my last visit, on the way to the airport, I felt peace, gratitude and closure. I do believe, Ukki is now gardening in a better place with the master gardener, Jesus, and at the same time watching over us, smiling at Roope picking up a bounty in his own garden, Johannes pulling in yet another rainbow trout, Maiju barbecuing ukki-salmon on her terrace in Bologna, Matlena making a painting of his adventurous life, Rafael rooting for the Giants, and me writing about the wonderful memories of his profound input in all our lives.
16.05.2008 - 01:28
Ei pidä lannistua. Aina voi lentää, liitää ja liihottaa!(You shouldn’t get bugged down, you can always fly, glide and soar!)This is the wisdom of the little monkey in the kids’ cartoon I watched this morning. The TV was on in the common room of our bungalow, and I joined a teenage volunteer while we were both waiting for our shower turn. We’re in Vesala, the Jyväskylä Lutheran parish camp property, 15 kilometers west of Jyväskylä. Rafu and I are among the volunteers for this weekend camp, called Maahanmuuttajaleiri – immigrant camp. We are altogether over 60 people. The maahanmuuttajat (literally: intothecountrymovers) come from places we find immigrants anywhere: Congo, Iran, Afghanistan, Sudan, Liberia, etc. The native languages I have encountered include Dari, Kituba, Bassa, and naturally Arabic, French, etc. But we all communicate in Finnish. Some things are interpreted into French, Arabic or Dari, and. Sometimes someone falls into little bits of broken English, but mostly it’s Finnish.So many things impress me. The facility, of course, is modern, clean and light. It’s a set of larger buildings and smaller bungalows set by the shores of Lake Vesanka. It’s absolutely gorgeous, peaceful and well designed. When I entered the room I’m sharing with Rafu, I remarked about the Marimekko bedspreads and curtains to the director of the camp, Kutti. She had never noticed, she replied. When you live in the middle of this quiet, peaceful design heaven, you can probably easily overlook it. For me, coming from a culture of overwhelming visual mess, this seems quite paradise-like.We started at 5 PM on Friday. Since Rafu has a drumming lesson until 6:30, I decided to go back to Jyväskylä later to pick him up. When I told that to Kutti, the leader of the camp, she immediately exclaimed, great! You could maybe help the Congolese brothers. OK! Sure! I promised – but with what? They forgot their card cable card at home, and there’s a Manchester United vs. Chelsea game on Saturday afternoon. So, I had an opportunity to meet the handsome brothers, William and Patrick, and make their wide smiles even wider. They came along, and we had a pleasant trip to Patrick’s apartment to pick up the invaluable card. The brothers had first made it to Ethiopia for a few months where they were accepted by Finland as refugees. The handsome brothers were university students in Congo and hoped to continue their studies in Jyväskylä after mastering Finnish.
My new friends, Patrick and William
Samantha, 15 easily switched from Finnish youth slang into Spanish, Italian or English when teasing Rafu. She was going to school, living in Finland without her parents who were in Venezuela. I never found out how she had ended up in her mother’s home country as a 13-year-old. The exciting volleyball match hooked together Samantha, Rafael, and Emmanuel from Sudan as well as Sohaila from Afghanistan, who was trying to keep her headscarf in place in the fast game. Sohaila’s sisters and mother with a granddaughter were eager spectators. But volleyball wasn’t the only outdoor activity. We had our very own Olympics with challenging tasks; such as racing who could find a pine cone the fastest – a task that proved to be almost impossible. .  The cool trio
Participating in the Olympics is hard work
The Saturday night sauna didn’t scare a couple of Irani men who not only enjoyed sauna but jumped into the ice lake several times. When in Rome . . . I had a nice chat with an Estonian mother of two who was at the camp in an official capacity. She seemed extremely competent and well adjusted but confided the difficulties about living in the third culture to me. Kutti, the camp leader, had been busy and arranged along with a handful of volunteers, a full schedule. We laughed a lot, ate all the time, played, sang, drummed, danced and talked. We got to shop at a free flea market, and the newcomers learned how to make real Finnish pulla, the national coffee-companion, cardamomy coffee bread. The amazing weekend got it culmination in the international church service held in a small log cabin chapel with the most amazing alter piece – a window with a lake view.  A serious pulla baker  An Afghani bargain hunter
I took a break and hiked to a little point across. What gorgeous countryside! It was a perfect place to give us, weary people a weekend of rest, laughter and new Finnish experiences.
A Liberian mom
Birch forest starts from the yard
Rafael, who had muttered to me in advance about the weird stuff I force him to participate in, happily exchanged mobile numbers with his newfound friends.- And we got a message that due to our outstanding intercultural skills and open attitudes we are now part of the team that will travel all to way up to the very top of Lapland in June with a busload of new immigrants. We’ll even get to climb a feel, Saana-tunturi.  The altar
07.05.2008 - 10:57
PROLOGUE:The spring has been so magical that I haven't taken the time to post my entry. So, do pay attention to the dates, please.  APRIL 15, 2008The bright sun beamed directly into my eyes and woke me up. On the fifth floor, I don't even own curtains and never lower the blinds. Immediately, I was sure we had overslept, and quickly grabbed my cell phone to check on the time. 5:30 AM. I decided I better find my reading glasses. It was still 5:30 AM. OK! Spring must be here. The sun officially rose today at 05.49, but there's a long period of dawn. Every day, the day's a little longer . . . or a lot longer – depending on your definition of time. I had told my son, Rafael, how much I was looking forward to the miracle of spring. He immediately asked cynically, you're not crying? - No, but it does make me emotional. I haven't been here to witness this for 25 years. I tried to justify my muzzy emotional feelings to my sarcastic teenager, fighting back tears. But I believe Rafael must have noticed it too. One day, there's a snowstorm. We call it takatalvi – backwinter, and the trees get another white blanket. The temperature rises during the day, so by the evening the roads are clear again. At night, it snows again. It's actually kind of depressing. We waited and waited for snow before Christmas – in vain as it never arrived. Now, it's time for spring. Rafael did remark today of noticing the speed of the melting snow. The near-by down hill slope has big batches of grass showing; not the case two days ago. It's almost too fast. Some claim that the common Finnish phenomenon of spring fatigue is caused by the shocking speed of changing conditions in the nature. In January, we barely had any daylight, and three months later, we barely seem to have any darkness. Maybe our bodies cannot handle this. It's just too much. So, we are supposed to go for long walks, eat lots of oranges (Vitamin C), and prepare ourselves for the nightless nights of summer. Magazines and newspapers have articles for these tips and others. I have almost guilty feelings at any notion of my suffering from spring fatigue. This is the most special time of the year. I CANNOT feel tired and depressed. I should have felt like that in November. But no – in November, I was happily biking in the 2 PM twilight with lots of energy. It was easy to get work done. What else could you do but stay in and work? Now, work is one of the furthest thoughts in my mind . . .APRIL 28, 2008Yes . . . the days do get even longer. This morning the sun rose at 5.10 AM . . . and it won't set until 9.21 PM. It's a long day. On Saturday, April 19, we woke up to another sunny, bright morning. With our visitors, Johanna and Otto, we embarked on a nature walk in an island, about 15 kilometers from Jyväskylä. We hiked up a hill, and got lazy in the sunshine. The scenery is typical of Central Finland, the area we're living in. From a geological point of view, the whole Finnish area belongs to the Baltic block of granite, gneiss, and crystalline schist. During the Ice Age, the glaciers that moved from the northwest covered this region with a thick icesheet, and glacial erosion effectively removed the soil and left the rock bare and polished. We're now sitting on these massive rocks, enjoying the sun. Rafu & Central Finland granite
Rafu & Otto resting in the April sun
Johanna & Sirpa taking a break
The next morning, on Sunday, May 20, I took a walk with Johanna, and we saw the first flowers this spring. There was still spotty snow here and there, but the brave flowers have no respect for the remaining snow or ice. They stand erect and and proud. The birds don't seem to care either. The migrant birds returned early this year. Some, such as larks and finches came as early as February because of the warm winter. Some flew back, but many put up with the cold weather, trusting that the spring would soon arrive. http://oppiminen.yle.fi/artikkeli?id=2687
Also older human migrant birds are arriving. Those spending winters in Florida, Spain, etc. will definitely make it back for the magical Northern summer. Now, I've got to get back to work . . . somehow . . . maybe I'll lower the blinds . . .
22.04.2008 - 09:38
 Kids enjoying snow. 12/3/1949 in Tampere. Photo: Aamulehti, Tampereen museoiden kuva-arkisto.
NOMEN EST OMEN!Everyone's perfectly still and quiet. Parents are 'shhh'ing their toddlers, and we're all relying on the pastor's clear annunciation. Here it comes: Lumi Marja Kirsikka. We all heard it – and we nod approvingly. What a beautiful name! (Unfortunately, the English translation doesn't do justice to the beauty of the soft vowel-filled syllables combined with a couple of consonants, 'r', 's' and 'k' to give the name some edge. It doesn't translate that well either: Snow Berry Cherry)Finland has a state religion, or actually two of them: Lutheran and Finnish Orthodox churches. 84 percent of the people belong to the Lutheran church and 84 percent of the babies are baptized. Baptism is mostly considered as a naming ceremony. The baby is usually just called vauva (baby) or by a nickname until the official baptisms. The name is kept as a secret, and everyone listens very carefully when the pastor reveals the name. Traditionally, you could only choose a name that was listed in the Finnish almanac that lists name/s for each day. My mom tells me stories of the pastor refusing to baptize a baby because of a 'strange' name. Because of the almanac, most Finns have a nameday. Namedays are celebrated in families, in all the work places, and in small towns like my hometown, Paltamo. You better be prepared with goodies since everyone knows when your nameday is. You can't escape the information – it's announced on the radio every morning, it's in the newspapers, and busses and town squares might have a running, electronic information strip that includes weekly namedays. So, my mom's always prepared on July second, Maija's nameday as neighbors and friends might drop by for a cup of coffee and goodies. The rules have relaxed. Many Finns now name their babies after foreign soap opera stars, star athletes or Idols winners. Also old names are recycled every two to three generations. A fairly new phenomenon is nature names. There are some that have been used traditionally, such as Aamu and Ilta (Dawn and Dusk), Marja and Raita (Berry and Willow), but lately, there's been a burst of names related to nature . . . Kirsikka, Pilvi, Tuuli, Vilja, Sade, Säde, Hilla, Meri, Lumi, Myrsky, Pyry, etc. or Cherry, Cloud, Wind, Grain, Rain, Ray, Storm, Sea, Snow, Snowstorm . . . It's these nature babies that I encountered, very appropriately, in the snowy fells of Ylläs, Lapland.HILLA = CLOUDBERRYThe 7-week-old Hilla is happily napping in an ahkio, a modern version, designed after an old sledge, pulled either by her paappa, Grandpa or her äiti, Mom, both on cross-country skis. Hilla seems warm and cozy, so warmly tucked in her sleeping bag, sound in her dreams that it's almost impossible to see the girl.
Hilla enjoying the snow at 7 weeks
Hilla in ahkio, pulled by Paappa, with Mom relaxing on skisPYRY = STORMThe 4-year-old Pyry has decided to cross-country ski without poles – not an easy task at all, but he's doing quite well. Dad is patiently waiting little ways away. Mom, Pyry's two siblings, and two sets of grandparents are already roasting makkara at the Laavu, the semi-circled wooden shelter with a roaring fire in front.
Pyry, the adventorous no-pole cross-country skier LUMI = SNOWThe 4-year-old Lumi is racing down a steep slope at Ylläs. She's been downhill skiing since the winter before and has no fear what so ever. Big sister, MERI, can barely keep up with her. Lumi knows how to slow down and stop too. She ends her run perfectly.
The skilled end of a run by Lumi
MYRSKY = STORMMyrsky, 3, lives up to his name. He loves to snowborad down the hill like a winter storm. With mom up on the slope to watch him go and dad at the receiving end, at the bottom of the hill life couldn't get any better.  Myrsky, the storm-like snowboarder
Obviously, these kids were named after natural phenomena, and they've become real nature kids. We say in Finland that kids learn how to cross-country ski at the same time as they learn how to walk. So, the typical Christmas present for the baby's second Christmas is a set of skis and poles. And that's how it all starts! What's going to happen to all the skiing toddlers with the current no-snow-show winters? Is Finland going to be losing its competitive edge in future cross-country competitions? Or can we trust the Hillas, Pyrys, Lumis and Myrskys to keep the Finnish winter spirit going? PS. Of course the Moomintrolls ski too!
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Kirjoittaja
Olen muuttanut vuodeksi Suomeen 30 Kalifornian vuoden jälkeen. Kirjoitan blogia ystävilleni Kaliforniassa - ja muuallakin.
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