Long Pause, Who Cares

I woke up this morning with the perfect idea for a blog post. Sadly, it was one of those ideas that I should have written down, really as I don’t remember it anymore. It’s been a week of pause without a word, so it’s quite safe to assume that my trip to Berlin was pretty much awesome.

I’ve been thinking of writing a conference report here. But since it was just partying and meeting up with old friends and new Norwegians, I’ve been more or less stuck with it. So instead of a report, here are a few snippets from the past couple weeks that I feel like I should mention instead, in a collage-sort of a way.

It’s way more confusing like this, and I don’t have to spell out my real thoughts or have coherence about things.

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It’s New Year’s Eve. I’m at Apollo, a quite large live music venue. I’m here with my sister. The music is thumping. I’ve been cast as her wingman for the evening. I just sort of was expecting for it to take longer. The first guy we approach is the catch. I’m in the completely wrong mood for partying in a too loud and too full a venue. So I head outside.

The air is brisk, the snow under my feet is crunching in a very pleasing fashion as I walk down the street with my summer shoes. It’s one of the times of the year that there are a lot of people out there, and they are actually friendly.

One of the three traditional big Finnish “drinking holidays” – New Year’s, Vappu (May Day, labor party thing), Juhannus (Midsummer). Days when the Finns are breaking the silent and gloomy -stereotype to the max.

It feels good to start a new year like this. Surrounded by strangers who are talking to you if you bother to initiate a conversation. In the chilling winter air. After doing the good deed. If I had a glass, I would raise it now in honor of new beginnings.

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“Just imagine this when there weren’t any electric lights. No wonder that men flipped out, took their axe, drove their family out into the snow, and then went on with the drinking of the vodka and the burning of the sauna.”

It’s a Sunday evening a couple of weeks ago, I’m driving back from Tampere and taking a dark detour to get to a smaller Finnish town before returning to Helsinki. The guy talking is Pens, as usual. Our friend Mar is sleeping in the back seat. We went to Tampere yesterday to check out the new apartment of Mi&Mi, a horrifyingly cute couple that we’ve all known for ages.

And now we’re driving through the darkness, and Pens is making a good point.

Finland is a harsh lover. We’re so up north that when the winter comes, it really does. Thanks to the Golf Stream, we have the climate to grow crops here, but it doesn’t help with the darkness. It drains the life out of you to have 5 hours of sunlight per day. Not easy to like the effect this place has on you right about now.

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It’s last Saturday, I’m in Berlin. The morning after the first night of partying. Feeling the need for some fresh air after breakfast. The weather outside is wonderful, just enough degrees on the minus side of Celsius and from what I’ve understood, it’s been snowing the past couple of days and that shows. But now the sky is clear.

I’ve had a nice breakfast and learned that the hostel reception won’t accept credit cards. The nearest ATM is less than a kilometer away. I could use some cash. I have a couple of options – Could go listen to lectures (this is a conference), go get my winter clothing and head out and get cash so I can buy snacks (you always need snacks) or just head out.

I get an amused smile from a passer-by, head-shaking in disbelief from some fellow conference goers and the hostel staff. Some guy even slows down in his car, rolls down the window and shouts “Respect!” before continuing his trip. Apparently going out without a coat or a wool cap in this nice warm weather is considered insanity here..

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It’s New Year’s again. I eventually head to the taxi line – the reason not to take the bus tonight is that I need some neutral human interaction, and a long taxi line usually provides just that.

There is a young couple that at first doesn’t remember the name of the place they’re coming from, but eventually get their stories straight. A very grumpy guy who is heading to the same direction as I am. And an old man who is really living the motto of this blog – “If you have to choose between the truth and the legend, always print the legend”

He’s been everywhere, done everything. He is, by his own words, a world-class ballroom dancing champion who’s done shows in Vegas. He proves this by taking the young girl for a dance right there in the middle of the street as her boyfriend is standing there, looking amused. He has been a paramedic, and assures another lady in the line that he needs to help her keep her breasts warm. With his hands.

The line isn’t moving. I’m slowly starting to lose the feeling from my toes. I look at my shoes for a second and when I raise my head, the old man is sneaking into a cab somewhere ahead. He’s my new hero.

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It’s the last day of the conference in Berlin, and I’m being asked to explain what Finland feels like and what sort of people the Finns are. I try my best to capture the way I’ve been raised, the feeling of being in between the East and the West. The modern way things work. The distance. The darkness. The depression deep within. I must be painting quite a grey picture as the guy born in the former East Germany feels sympathy.

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It’s this morning, I’m talking with someone at work, praising how wonderful it is to be back in Finland. I don’t really know why I’m saying that, but I think I am starting to mean it.