September 18, 2007 – Matlena’s birthday – ONNEA!!!

. . . so I get to drive a different route every day . . . keeps it interesting, she turns the steering wheel and maneuvers the huge bus to make a tight left turn. With her blond ponytail and orange glasses she barely looks 18. She keeps telling me bus stories until we arrive at my final stop. She’s the latest addition to my bus tales. My Finnish Jyväskylä friends shake their heads and tell me I must be making up my stories. Finland is stereotypically labeled as a country where people do not talk to each other. The Finns are supposed to be painfully shy and stoically inexpressive. NOT TRUE!  The people I have had encounters with go out of their way to help me. They look up addresses and phone numbers on the net and copy them down for me: fleamarkets, bicycle shops, university offices. The library card is handed on the spot and the postal worker figures out the cheapest way for me to send a thick letter without hurry – and with a smile. And the bus drivers – they all speak excellent Finnish and they answer any stupid questions politely. Last night, a passenger with a huge black dog kept talking to her cell phone with a loud voice. We all listened to the family drama.
- I was going to get food and I couldn’t find my banking card. Do you have it? Why should I believe you? I can’t trust you – I never could. Well, no food tonight.
She was pretty loud by the time I got off. An elderly woman got off on the same stop and commented,
-It’s like theater. I’m a cartoon artist, and I never lack material. The bus is the best.
I told her I was a writer. I could use the same material. I was hoping she lived in my building as I’ve never yet met anyone, but her home is in the apartment building next door.

My bus riding days maybe soon over since the friendly Sudani owner of the bike shop had received many used bikes yesterday. Last Friday he had none. I decided not to ask where they all come from. He showed me a very old-fashioned bike, but after he saw the face I made, he laughed, mummonpyörä – a granny bike. I agreed and chose a red mountain bike – more my speed. He promised to fix it for tomorrow and call me. His Finnish was excellent, so of course, I trusted him immediately. A language teacher can’t shed her coat that easily.