Living as we do in a world populated by a lot of quite frankly stupid people, you get used to reading stupid things. However, the following link is of a stupidity which is quite impressive, even by conservative American standards, which are obviously quite impressive in the first place.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7427206.stm
Ridiculous eh ? But wait, there's more ! The Boston Globe report quotes her as saying that "The keffiyeh, for the clueless, is the traditional scarf of Arab men that has come to symbolize murderous Palestinian jihad, popularized by Yasser Arafat and a regular adornment of Muslim terrorists appearing in beheading and hostage-taking videos, the apparel has been mainstreamed by both ignorant and not-so-ignorant fashion designers, celebrities, and left-wing icons."
M has one. Should I get concerned ?
I'm waiting for the next wave of news to come out of the states in its anti-Impending-Apocalypse paranoia.
"Man arrested for growing beard"
A homeless man was arrested for growing a beard yesterday, reports the Squagmattavilleport Times. Bruce McFleas, who lives under a bridge, claims he did not have access to a razor. Local residents, however, have claimed that McFleas' disgusting mass of facial hair could drive their children into the hands of radical Muslims.
or even....
"African American arrested, caught red handed reading book"
Well what ? It could have been a Quran, or a bomb-making manual. And it's better to be safe than sorry isn't it ? And given that he's black, he could be dangerous.
Finland of course doesn't have this problem. Given that no planes have been flown into the World Trade Center in Helsinki, there is no such paranoia. And I can spend the evening outside despite the fact that I, very much like Osama bin Laden, have two arms and two legs.
May 29, 2008
Life in Helsinki Part 3 : The Art of Communication
Learning Finnish is not the key to communication in Finland.
It can be helpful of course, particularly when you get out of the big cities (or, more accurately, big city. Or even more accurately, big town) to where the rural natives have never seen, heard, or know the concept of a foreigner. People in this thriving megapolis, however, do speak English - sometimes in a very funny way too - so the ignorant foreigner can come here and be understood. As I've tried to learn Finnish, and speak it more, I've come to be understood less. When, eventually, someone does understand me, I don't understand what they say back to me. A very constructive relationship with the natives, as can be seen.
What is more important is learning how to speak. That is to say, learning how not to speak. For having a conversation here is quite a difficult task. People may find you arrogant if you speak too much, and I find them boring if/when they speak too little. The key to this is realising that talking is not actually all that important, but giving weight to your words is. Asking someone a long, complex question and then sitting around for half an eternity while they stare into space and finally utter "yes" does get quite irritating but it's also something you get used to. Just like the tramps on the trams, waking up to find the city covered in smoke from some Russian forest fire or people thinking you're too drunk to think straight just because you happen to offer them a beer. On one particularly animated night out in yet another of Helsinki's über-lively nightclubs, a guy came and set next to me in order to inform me that he was very happy that foreigners should choose to live in Finland and to enquire as to whether I was enjoying my stay in this country. Awkward conversation followed and I don't think the guy said anything other than "yes" or "no" to me for the rest of the conversation. Then I met a guy from Angola and things went back to normal.
The exceptions to these awkward conversations are few and far between. There are :
a) Bizarre Finns like M who actually like talking just for the hell of it. Other people are generally intimidated by members of this category.
b) Drunk Finns who are as talkative as anyone else on the planet. These sentences are often short and basic in terms of grammar and sophistication, ("Fuck you", "I'm so drunk !" and "Where is the afterparty ?" are regular phrases one can listen out for) but can still be a breath of fresh air.
c) People from Karelia and Savo regions who are apparently extremely rude because they occasionally interrupt other peoples sentences, an offence which is punishable under Finnish law. I have never met any such people.
d) The old men in long distance trains' restaurant cars who argue about whether or not Finland should have invited Germany to occupy it during World War II. These old men always have someone to argue with as it seems that, no matter how many old men there are and no matter who they are, there always seems to be at least one from each camp. And, as in anywhere in this country which involves a long period of sitting down somewhere, these characters soon metamorphose into category b).
Communication as a topic was chosen today for a simple reason - I lost my mobile phone yesterday, again. Doing so the day after applying for a job possibly wasn't the greatest timing but this happens. It's annoying though. Especially in this country, where 98% of the population owns a mobile phone. My boss sends me my shifts by text message, you call someone when you lose them in a pub instead of looking around for them. In the last place I lived here I paid for the laundrette with my phone, and my parents send me text messages to remind me to reply their emails. I play Snake on the tram when I'm bored, the list is endless. But, you could ask, why in a nation of so few words do so many have mobile phones ? For some reason, Finns speak an incredible amount on their phones. From the greeting "Missä sä oot" ("where are you ?" which for some reason everyone asks - who cares anyway ? It's not like you're going to talk to them face to face) until the ending "Joo, kiva, mooooi" ("yup, nice, bye", which is just as common) people are gossping for ages about how ugly Leena's new handbag is or how Pekka was shagging Annukka AGAIN or how little they remember from the party last night. Strangely, I've seen lots of people who have obviously gone to cafés or bars together and are both sitting at the table..... writing text messages ! I used to think they were just on crap dates and ignoring each other but I'm beginning to suspect they're actually conversing through SMS just to make the whole experience that little bit less difficult. God only knows what these people do when they're stuck in an elevator together or having sex or end up in a pub without a phone OR a television. I'd imagine life is planned so that none of these things really happen.
In public life, of course, things are different. If you want something from a shop or a bar, you have to ask for it. And given that, in general, you won't have the phone number of the girl behind the counter or the guy behind the bar (guys also work behind counters here and girls behind bars, but it seemed overly elaborate to point this out) you have to ask for it, in words, face to face. Fear not though - words have been rationed in these cases as well. I lost the habit of saying goodbye to cashiers a long time ago as the result you'll generally get is a bewildered face before they compose themselves and say goodbye back. "Could I please have a pint of your finest ale, sir" has been compressed into one word - "Tuoppi." This means "pint". I could imagine going into a bar in France, leaning over the bar and declaring "pint", and I could just as easily imagine getting laughed out of there again. Still, less chat with the barstaff does leave you more time to sit in silence with your mates !
The conclusion of this story ? I picked up a new SIM card this afternoon. I can live, work, and talk again. Hallelujah.
It can be helpful of course, particularly when you get out of the big cities (or, more accurately, big city. Or even more accurately, big town) to where the rural natives have never seen, heard, or know the concept of a foreigner. People in this thriving megapolis, however, do speak English - sometimes in a very funny way too - so the ignorant foreigner can come here and be understood. As I've tried to learn Finnish, and speak it more, I've come to be understood less. When, eventually, someone does understand me, I don't understand what they say back to me. A very constructive relationship with the natives, as can be seen.
What is more important is learning how to speak. That is to say, learning how not to speak. For having a conversation here is quite a difficult task. People may find you arrogant if you speak too much, and I find them boring if/when they speak too little. The key to this is realising that talking is not actually all that important, but giving weight to your words is. Asking someone a long, complex question and then sitting around for half an eternity while they stare into space and finally utter "yes" does get quite irritating but it's also something you get used to. Just like the tramps on the trams, waking up to find the city covered in smoke from some Russian forest fire or people thinking you're too drunk to think straight just because you happen to offer them a beer. On one particularly animated night out in yet another of Helsinki's über-lively nightclubs, a guy came and set next to me in order to inform me that he was very happy that foreigners should choose to live in Finland and to enquire as to whether I was enjoying my stay in this country. Awkward conversation followed and I don't think the guy said anything other than "yes" or "no" to me for the rest of the conversation. Then I met a guy from Angola and things went back to normal.
The exceptions to these awkward conversations are few and far between. There are :
a) Bizarre Finns like M who actually like talking just for the hell of it. Other people are generally intimidated by members of this category.
b) Drunk Finns who are as talkative as anyone else on the planet. These sentences are often short and basic in terms of grammar and sophistication, ("Fuck you", "I'm so drunk !" and "Where is the afterparty ?" are regular phrases one can listen out for) but can still be a breath of fresh air.
c) People from Karelia and Savo regions who are apparently extremely rude because they occasionally interrupt other peoples sentences, an offence which is punishable under Finnish law. I have never met any such people.
d) The old men in long distance trains' restaurant cars who argue about whether or not Finland should have invited Germany to occupy it during World War II. These old men always have someone to argue with as it seems that, no matter how many old men there are and no matter who they are, there always seems to be at least one from each camp. And, as in anywhere in this country which involves a long period of sitting down somewhere, these characters soon metamorphose into category b).
Communication as a topic was chosen today for a simple reason - I lost my mobile phone yesterday, again. Doing so the day after applying for a job possibly wasn't the greatest timing but this happens. It's annoying though. Especially in this country, where 98% of the population owns a mobile phone. My boss sends me my shifts by text message, you call someone when you lose them in a pub instead of looking around for them. In the last place I lived here I paid for the laundrette with my phone, and my parents send me text messages to remind me to reply their emails. I play Snake on the tram when I'm bored, the list is endless. But, you could ask, why in a nation of so few words do so many have mobile phones ? For some reason, Finns speak an incredible amount on their phones. From the greeting "Missä sä oot" ("where are you ?" which for some reason everyone asks - who cares anyway ? It's not like you're going to talk to them face to face) until the ending "Joo, kiva, mooooi" ("yup, nice, bye", which is just as common) people are gossping for ages about how ugly Leena's new handbag is or how Pekka was shagging Annukka AGAIN or how little they remember from the party last night. Strangely, I've seen lots of people who have obviously gone to cafés or bars together and are both sitting at the table..... writing text messages ! I used to think they were just on crap dates and ignoring each other but I'm beginning to suspect they're actually conversing through SMS just to make the whole experience that little bit less difficult. God only knows what these people do when they're stuck in an elevator together or having sex or end up in a pub without a phone OR a television. I'd imagine life is planned so that none of these things really happen.
In public life, of course, things are different. If you want something from a shop or a bar, you have to ask for it. And given that, in general, you won't have the phone number of the girl behind the counter or the guy behind the bar (guys also work behind counters here and girls behind bars, but it seemed overly elaborate to point this out) you have to ask for it, in words, face to face. Fear not though - words have been rationed in these cases as well. I lost the habit of saying goodbye to cashiers a long time ago as the result you'll generally get is a bewildered face before they compose themselves and say goodbye back. "Could I please have a pint of your finest ale, sir" has been compressed into one word - "Tuoppi." This means "pint". I could imagine going into a bar in France, leaning over the bar and declaring "pint", and I could just as easily imagine getting laughed out of there again. Still, less chat with the barstaff does leave you more time to sit in silence with your mates !
The conclusion of this story ? I picked up a new SIM card this afternoon. I can live, work, and talk again. Hallelujah.
May 20, 2008
"I'm Still Alive"
Recent times have been dominated by late mornings due to laziness, late nights due to work, general lazing around, productive working on my thesis (seriously !) and, as time has gone on, spending more time buried in the Lonely Planet guide to Iran which M and I got from the library a few weeks back. Looks like a great place, full of interesting stuff, suitable for our budget (which is a diplomatic way of saying "dirt cheap" and we can fly into Turkey and out of Armenia in September for next to nothing. I called the consul in Helsinki yesterday who seemed to suggest that getting a visa would be an absolute breeze. I'd like to think I believe him. In any case, the trip seems to be getting off the ground although, without any flights booked, it's tempting fate to write that. I'll do it anyway though, 'cos that's just the kind of guy I am.
Last weekend I played golf. It's the first time I've ever done it and before I never really saw the point, thinking of it as a lazy man's sport. Having spent an afternoon on the greens (or, more usually, in the trees trying to dig my ball out of a rut of tree roots) I still think it's a lazy man's sport. However, I've realised that, as a lazy man myself, I quite like it. The fact that it was 27 degrees and sunny did no harm at all to this pseudo-sport's impression on me, nor did the fact that I came joint first out of a group of myself, M and her parents, both of whom play it regularly. The stiff arms I had to put up with for three days afterwards was a small price to pay and I'm tempted to do it again.
I'm also quite a fan of golf of the crazy variety - M and I have a bet going. We play a game every couple of weekends and whoever has the most wins by the end of the summer gets a steak dinner courtesy of the other. After 2 games, I'm 2 games up. Golf doesn't get any better than that.
Other than Iran and golf, there's nothing much really going on. The foreigners in Finland are sitting around waiting for the summer to arrive, and the Finns are happy that the summer has already arrived. The Africans living here, I'd imagine, are probably waiting for the end of the winter. Tomorrow I'm going to write some more thesis and then go to work. I'm sure this is not what life is supposed to be like but, given that it's not -25 and that I don't have to plough my way through 2 metres of snow to go anywhere (like my extremely exciting visit to Pasila library to get some books today) I'm happy to put up with it until something more interesting comes along....
So for now, as the Iranians would say (and will say to me in September, inch'allah) Kheyli mamnum and khoda hafez....
Last weekend I played golf. It's the first time I've ever done it and before I never really saw the point, thinking of it as a lazy man's sport. Having spent an afternoon on the greens (or, more usually, in the trees trying to dig my ball out of a rut of tree roots) I still think it's a lazy man's sport. However, I've realised that, as a lazy man myself, I quite like it. The fact that it was 27 degrees and sunny did no harm at all to this pseudo-sport's impression on me, nor did the fact that I came joint first out of a group of myself, M and her parents, both of whom play it regularly. The stiff arms I had to put up with for three days afterwards was a small price to pay and I'm tempted to do it again.
I'm also quite a fan of golf of the crazy variety - M and I have a bet going. We play a game every couple of weekends and whoever has the most wins by the end of the summer gets a steak dinner courtesy of the other. After 2 games, I'm 2 games up. Golf doesn't get any better than that.
Other than Iran and golf, there's nothing much really going on. The foreigners in Finland are sitting around waiting for the summer to arrive, and the Finns are happy that the summer has already arrived. The Africans living here, I'd imagine, are probably waiting for the end of the winter. Tomorrow I'm going to write some more thesis and then go to work. I'm sure this is not what life is supposed to be like but, given that it's not -25 and that I don't have to plough my way through 2 metres of snow to go anywhere (like my extremely exciting visit to Pasila library to get some books today) I'm happy to put up with it until something more interesting comes along....
So for now, as the Iranians would say (and will say to me in September, inch'allah) Kheyli mamnum and khoda hafez....
May 4, 2008
Life in Helsinki - Part 2 (The Vappu Special Issue)
Dear Fans, Enemies, Randomers.
It's been a while, and for that I apologise. I could come up with some ridiculous excuse but the bottom line is that I just haven't sat down to empty my mind onto a screen since April 19th. Fear not though, I am today seeking redemption.
Two events have taken place in Helsinki since then. The first was rather predictable, given that it lands on the same day every year. April 30th and May 1st were a celebration of Vappu, the name given to Labour day here. The second was slightly less predictable, given that we are subject to the evil temper of the northern European climate up here. The sun is shining !!!!!!!!!!
Firstly, I'll explain to you, in a nutshell (or in a pint glass), what the concept of Vappu entails. Like many countries in the world, Finland is ironic in its honouring of the workers of the world, by declaring the day a bank holiday. This, in Finland, is the green light for students, workers, and general human beings alike to pour out into the streets and parks of the city, and proceed to get royally drunk until late at night. Like last year, my boss had given me a shift until around midnight so I did the honourable thing and took a pre-mixed bottle of viina-cola to work and cracked it open as soon as I got out the door, joining M amidst the amassed throngs of partiers getting sauced up in a park. I call it a park - it's actually a cemetery where the Finnish victims of the Great Plague are buried. Anything goes.
Another feature of Vappu is the wearing of overalls. This is reserved for students (although no one really goes around enforcing any type of rule so if you're not a student any more you can, in theory, get away with it. Just.) and each all-enveloping jumpsuit is coloured and designed differently according to what school you're in. Mine is red, M's is green. She could find hers, borrowed a red one off a friend, and was absolutely horrified that she would be going out to Vappu identifying herself as a chemist. We got home around 5am, went to bed, and M woke me up at 11 by planting a can of cider onto my face, and off we went again ! Went to work at 3, pretty tipsy, got off work with a free bottle of wine from the boss and started again. Drink, work, sleep - that's Vappu in a nutshell. It's fun, and probably scares the crap out of tourists who find themselves in Finland on that day by accident, but probably useful that it only happens once a year...
The second event, as I've written, is the emergence of the sun over the weekend. This leads to another couple of typical Finnish activities. Firstly, crazy golf. The courses are dotted around the city and I've always liked that. Secondly, something which the Finns love nearly as much as beer - ice cream. Anyone who comes will be amazed by the amount of ice cream on display - life is normal here but decorated by ice cream. So for example, when builders are taking a break from work, they won't be standing around smoking a cigarette like in other countries. They'll be standing around, smoking a cigarette, and eating ice cream. Businessmen will walk around in suits, briefcase in one hand and ice cream in the other. And Finns, given their immense knowledge of all things cold I'd imagine, make some seriously good ice cream. In a few weeks two more features of the Finnish summer will arrive. Finnish strawberries (yes, really !!) which are big, juicy and tasty, and Finnish mosquitos, which are also big and juicy. I love the strawberries, the mosquitos love me. What goes around comes around. In conclusion, as short as it is, I like the Finnish summer. And I'm going out to enjoy it now.
It's been a while, and for that I apologise. I could come up with some ridiculous excuse but the bottom line is that I just haven't sat down to empty my mind onto a screen since April 19th. Fear not though, I am today seeking redemption.
Two events have taken place in Helsinki since then. The first was rather predictable, given that it lands on the same day every year. April 30th and May 1st were a celebration of Vappu, the name given to Labour day here. The second was slightly less predictable, given that we are subject to the evil temper of the northern European climate up here. The sun is shining !!!!!!!!!!
Firstly, I'll explain to you, in a nutshell (or in a pint glass), what the concept of Vappu entails. Like many countries in the world, Finland is ironic in its honouring of the workers of the world, by declaring the day a bank holiday. This, in Finland, is the green light for students, workers, and general human beings alike to pour out into the streets and parks of the city, and proceed to get royally drunk until late at night. Like last year, my boss had given me a shift until around midnight so I did the honourable thing and took a pre-mixed bottle of viina-cola to work and cracked it open as soon as I got out the door, joining M amidst the amassed throngs of partiers getting sauced up in a park. I call it a park - it's actually a cemetery where the Finnish victims of the Great Plague are buried. Anything goes.
Another feature of Vappu is the wearing of overalls. This is reserved for students (although no one really goes around enforcing any type of rule so if you're not a student any more you can, in theory, get away with it. Just.) and each all-enveloping jumpsuit is coloured and designed differently according to what school you're in. Mine is red, M's is green. She could find hers, borrowed a red one off a friend, and was absolutely horrified that she would be going out to Vappu identifying herself as a chemist. We got home around 5am, went to bed, and M woke me up at 11 by planting a can of cider onto my face, and off we went again ! Went to work at 3, pretty tipsy, got off work with a free bottle of wine from the boss and started again. Drink, work, sleep - that's Vappu in a nutshell. It's fun, and probably scares the crap out of tourists who find themselves in Finland on that day by accident, but probably useful that it only happens once a year...
The second event, as I've written, is the emergence of the sun over the weekend. This leads to another couple of typical Finnish activities. Firstly, crazy golf. The courses are dotted around the city and I've always liked that. Secondly, something which the Finns love nearly as much as beer - ice cream. Anyone who comes will be amazed by the amount of ice cream on display - life is normal here but decorated by ice cream. So for example, when builders are taking a break from work, they won't be standing around smoking a cigarette like in other countries. They'll be standing around, smoking a cigarette, and eating ice cream. Businessmen will walk around in suits, briefcase in one hand and ice cream in the other. And Finns, given their immense knowledge of all things cold I'd imagine, make some seriously good ice cream. In a few weeks two more features of the Finnish summer will arrive. Finnish strawberries (yes, really !!) which are big, juicy and tasty, and Finnish mosquitos, which are also big and juicy. I love the strawberries, the mosquitos love me. What goes around comes around. In conclusion, as short as it is, I like the Finnish summer. And I'm going out to enjoy it now.
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