Jyväskylä 20.01.08
FINLAND – THE WARMEST PLACE ON EARTH (I have experienced)
A DISCLAIMER: I have only lived in Finland, California, New York, Barcelona and Great Britain – maybe the tropic would be warmer than Finland – or maybe not)
My friend was very pleased with her Christmas present, a new Pashmina scarf from Italy. She told us that her office temperature was + 20 Centigrade – and you do need two wrap something warm around you. 20!!! (68 F) I exclaimed – and reported my living room in Jyväskylä staying at 19 C. She was horrified and told me that is inhumane – I was to contact the service company immediately. I left my fourth note about the living room radiator not heating up. The workmen had checked it, removed air and water, and supposedly fixed it, but to no change. I had even invested on a cheap, little thermometer to prove my point. This time, I also emailed the landlady. The service man took our dual complaints seriously and worked on the radiator until it did start heating up. And did it ever heat up! The whole apartment now lingers at + 23 –24 C, and I have to keep the bedroom window open to be able to sleep. So, here I am. It’s a horrible weather outside. The meager snow we got has melted, and it’s slushy and wet. Indoors, I walk around in leggings and a tank top – barefoot. When I leave to go to the campus, I add jeans, boots, a sweater, winter coat, hat, gloves and a scarf. My bike ride is about 3 km. It’s uphill at both ends, and I get hotter and hotter the further I bike. So when I make it to my building on campus, I start stripping off clothes as I enter since I have to climb three long flights of stairs to my office. I have a thin skirt and slippers in the office to change into. The tank top will do again. At the home front, I park the bike in the basement bike storage and take the elevator up to the fifth floor, again, stripping my (too) warm clothes off en route.
What luxury! I have never been as cold as in Barcelona and Berkeley . . . and well, maybe New York.
After high school, arriving in New York to work as an au pair, I had checked the world map in advance to see the latitude of the place. Pretty south. I had no idea of the wind blowing from the Atlantic, rain or even snow. With my thin corduroy coat and all the sweaters I owned, I was cold most of the time . . . until May when it suddenly got very hot. The $25/a week au pair pay made shopping unthinkable.
In Jyväskylä, in the 1970’s, having passed a double final at one shot, I knew I was ready to travel to Barcelona where my then boyfriend, later husband, had already hitchhiked two months prior. The very day the exam results were published, I bought a bikini bathing suit. I was ready for Spain! Again, I had no idea that Northern Spain was not the beach paradise I had envisioned – at least not in the winter. The tile floors of our room in an old apartment building on Rambla de los Cappuccinos were freezing. There were no rugs, and our landlady flooded the floors weekly while washing them; one of landlady duties. After being exiled to the streets for hours, the damp floors covered with newspapers welcomed us back. Why? I guess to speed up drying, but in fact, the floors stayed damp and cold until the next day. There was no heater. Luckily, wine was cheap and plenty in the local bodega where we bought it directly from the barrels into two-liter water bottles. And of course, we were young and in-love – and it was such an adventure. Cold? Who cares!
Our 108-year-old Berkeley house breathes well. It’s easy to sleep, snuggled up under a down blanket. But in the morning, a walk to the freezing bathroom definitely wakes you up, and the average temperature in the kitchen is + 14 C (57 F) most of the year. Last winter’s record cold was measured in February in the living room: + 9 C (48 F). It’s very expensive to heat an old house with tall ceilings of three meters height. We have electric space heaters, but we only turn them on in the room we occupy at the moment. If I get really cold, I sit in the car with the heater on at full blast. We don’t even have a sauna, so there’s no warm indoor place. Luckily, my office on campus has central heating, and I can always escape there to warm up. Otherwise, it’s a lamb wool sweater, double-knit wool beanie, my big doggie/sheep booties with shoes inside for insulation that make it bearable.
So, everyday, I thank God, Finnish builders and my landlady for the warm, cozy home I have here. The heat is included in the rent, and the radiators seem to have no mechanism to turn the heat down. So, I’m enjoying myself with good conscience – and just open the windows when it gets too toasty. – This is all good since the cheapest wine costs about five euros a bottle . . . excellent cold tap water is the refreshing drink of choice.
FINLAND – THE WARMEST PLACE ON EARTH (I have experienced)
A DISCLAIMER: I have only lived in Finland, California, New York, Barcelona and Great Britain – maybe the tropic would be warmer than Finland – or maybe not)
My friend was very pleased with her Christmas present, a new Pashmina scarf from Italy. She told us that her office temperature was + 20 Centigrade – and you do need two wrap something warm around you. 20!!! (68 F) I exclaimed – and reported my living room in Jyväskylä staying at 19 C. She was horrified and told me that is inhumane – I was to contact the service company immediately. I left my fourth note about the living room radiator not heating up. The workmen had checked it, removed air and water, and supposedly fixed it, but to no change. I had even invested on a cheap, little thermometer to prove my point. This time, I also emailed the landlady. The service man took our dual complaints seriously and worked on the radiator until it did start heating up. And did it ever heat up! The whole apartment now lingers at + 23 –24 C, and I have to keep the bedroom window open to be able to sleep. So, here I am. It’s a horrible weather outside. The meager snow we got has melted, and it’s slushy and wet. Indoors, I walk around in leggings and a tank top – barefoot. When I leave to go to the campus, I add jeans, boots, a sweater, winter coat, hat, gloves and a scarf. My bike ride is about 3 km. It’s uphill at both ends, and I get hotter and hotter the further I bike. So when I make it to my building on campus, I start stripping off clothes as I enter since I have to climb three long flights of stairs to my office. I have a thin skirt and slippers in the office to change into. The tank top will do again. At the home front, I park the bike in the basement bike storage and take the elevator up to the fifth floor, again, stripping my (too) warm clothes off en route.
What luxury! I have never been as cold as in Barcelona and Berkeley . . . and well, maybe New York.
After high school, arriving in New York to work as an au pair, I had checked the world map in advance to see the latitude of the place. Pretty south. I had no idea of the wind blowing from the Atlantic, rain or even snow. With my thin corduroy coat and all the sweaters I owned, I was cold most of the time . . . until May when it suddenly got very hot. The $25/a week au pair pay made shopping unthinkable.
In Jyväskylä, in the 1970’s, having passed a double final at one shot, I knew I was ready to travel to Barcelona where my then boyfriend, later husband, had already hitchhiked two months prior. The very day the exam results were published, I bought a bikini bathing suit. I was ready for Spain! Again, I had no idea that Northern Spain was not the beach paradise I had envisioned – at least not in the winter. The tile floors of our room in an old apartment building on Rambla de los Cappuccinos were freezing. There were no rugs, and our landlady flooded the floors weekly while washing them; one of landlady duties. After being exiled to the streets for hours, the damp floors covered with newspapers welcomed us back. Why? I guess to speed up drying, but in fact, the floors stayed damp and cold until the next day. There was no heater. Luckily, wine was cheap and plenty in the local bodega where we bought it directly from the barrels into two-liter water bottles. And of course, we were young and in-love – and it was such an adventure. Cold? Who cares!
Our 108-year-old Berkeley house breathes well. It’s easy to sleep, snuggled up under a down blanket. But in the morning, a walk to the freezing bathroom definitely wakes you up, and the average temperature in the kitchen is + 14 C (57 F) most of the year. Last winter’s record cold was measured in February in the living room: + 9 C (48 F). It’s very expensive to heat an old house with tall ceilings of three meters height. We have electric space heaters, but we only turn them on in the room we occupy at the moment. If I get really cold, I sit in the car with the heater on at full blast. We don’t even have a sauna, so there’s no warm indoor place. Luckily, my office on campus has central heating, and I can always escape there to warm up. Otherwise, it’s a lamb wool sweater, double-knit wool beanie, my big doggie/sheep booties with shoes inside for insulation that make it bearable.
So, everyday, I thank God, Finnish builders and my landlady for the warm, cozy home I have here. The heat is included in the rent, and the radiators seem to have no mechanism to turn the heat down. So, I’m enjoying myself with good conscience – and just open the windows when it gets too toasty. – This is all good since the cheapest wine costs about five euros a bottle . . . excellent cold tap water is the refreshing drink of choice.
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