Hey everyone!
So, it's been a while.
I'm currently writing this post from my cozy and well-situated little apartment in Reykjavik, Iceland, as I'm participating in a language program I've aspired to since high school (an experience I will be sure to tell you all about in due time).
More than any other experience in recent memory, I let my blogging go while I was in Finland. I've had scores of drafts lying dormant in my posts list for many weeks now, and now that I've had plentiful time to relax and re-energize after the end of the semester and a month back home in the States, I'm ready to share some of my musings and adventures from my semester studying abroad in Finland and exploring all the rest of the Nordic countries. Aloitetaan (let's start)!
1) By and large, Finnish people tend to be quite multilingual.
Next to Azerbaijan, Finland is by far the most multilingual society which I have experienced. In contrast to Azerbaijan, where in spite of widespread knowledge of Russian, English, Turkish (to a far lesser extent), and so on, Azerbaijani is the only official language, Finland is a bilingual country in which Finnish and Swedish share official status, spoken by about 93% and 5% of the population respectively. All Finnish municipalities outside of the Åland Islands (where by definition Swedish is the only official language) are bilingual if the other official language is spoken by more than 3,000 people, or 8% of the municipal population. A few indigenous Sami languages also enjoy official status in some municipalities of Finnish Lapland. For the purposes of federal censuses and population registries, all citizens choose one of the two official languages as their mother tongue. However, regardless of what language(s) are official in their home municipalities or which they identify as their mother tongue, all Finns have to learn the "other national language" for the entirety of their state-required education, and all citizens have the right to request services and address authorities in their native tongue. The most bilingual regions are the southern and western coast along the Baltic Sea, where most Swedish speakers live, particularly in the largest cities (which are all located in those areas), and some municipalities in these areas may be monolingually Swedish. Knowledge of Swedish decreases the further east you go, as few native Swedish speakers live in these areas. By and large, Swedish speakers tend to speak more Finnish than vice versa, as a result of the practicalities of being such a small minority in a mainly Finnish-speaking country. In addition to this official bilingualism, many Finns, particularly young people, tend to speak at least intermediate-level English, as it's a required and well-taught subject in their schools. Many people may have at least some knowledge of other languages as well, such as Spanish, German, or French, that they may have taken at school. There are also several municipalities in the province of Finnish Lapland in the far north of the country where the Inari, Northern, and Skolt Sami languages have official status at a municipal level, and are being actively revived through creating immersive educational spaces.
2) Turku in particular is a very multilingual city.
One of my favorite things about my life in Turku was how multilingual it all was, and how I got to hear and use so many languages used around me. Being one of the largest cities in the country, it also has one of the largest immigrant populations, and many visiting professors and international or exchange students come as well because of the university. Moving around the city, I would of course here Finnish and Swedish spoken by locals, animated conversations in Arabic, Kurdish, Somali, Russian, and Estonian spoken by immigrant families, and boisterous exchanges in French, Spanish, Italian, Dutch, Portuguese, Chinese, English, and more among circles of international and exchange students. Some of my best memories are of going to language evenings organized by one of the local Erasmus Student Network (ESN) chapters, and practicing all kinds of languages with unexpected, friendly, and welcoming groups of people.
3) Finland-Swedish identity is quite unique and fascinating.
When I got to Finland, one of the things I was the most excited to get to know better was the identity and culture of its Swedish-speaking minority, and its place within the country. Finland was part of Sweden for nearly six hundred years, and since Finnish as a language was not really written until the 15th century, Swedish was the language of administration, business, and the upper classes in Finland for many centuries. Though the vast majority of the population has always spoken Finnish, a small minority has always spoken Swedish as their native language. They call themselves finlandssvenskar or ruotsisuomalaiset, which translates roughly to "Finland-Swedes" The general consensus, certainly for Finland Swedes living on the mainland, is that they tend to identify as Finns who feel a sense of belonging in Finland and constitute an integral part of Finnish society, but just happen to speak Swedish as their native language for reasons of familial heritage and personal identity. As I found when I did my four-month Swedish night class in Turku, Finnish Swedish is very different from the Swedish spoken in Finland, with an intonation, pronunciation, and accent that is highly influenced by Finnish, and therefore lacks the characteristic sing-songiness and unique sounds that are
(stereo)typically associated with Swedish. In fact, I found that Swedish as spoken with the local accent was pronounced in a way so akin to Finnish that, especially living in a city like Turku which has a prominent Swedish-speaking minority, that I would often not be able to tell which of the two people were speaking until I walked right past them.
(stereo)typically associated with Swedish. In fact, I found that Swedish as spoken with the local accent was pronounced in a way so akin to Finnish that, especially living in a city like Turku which has a prominent Swedish-speaking minority, that I would often not be able to tell which of the two people were speaking until I walked right past them.
4) The stereotype of Finnish people being aloof and unfriendly is highly overblown.
What I'll say about this, as I've mentioned in the (first) Icelandic version of my "things I've noticed" series, is that Nordic people are surely quite a lot more reserved in many ways compared to Mediterranean and Middle Eastern people, which are the two regions that I can claim to have some level of intimate knowledge of through direct experience. However, this doesn't mean that they are any less hospitable, welcoming, or friendly than the former, it's just that they approach hospitality in a different manner. A Finnish person probably won't come up to you and make a point of going out of their way to ask if you need help as, say, an Italian or a Turk might do. But the minute that you ask a Finn for help or to do you a favor, they will oblige in a graceful, efficient, and selfless manner. A quick walk around pretty much any Finnish city will help to evidence the fact that Finns are indeed friendly, smiley, and outgoing people who socialize normally, contrary to stereotypes. Bars and clubs in Finland tend to be quite loud places, as of course a few drinks do wonders for loosening Nordic tongues. But it manifests in all kinds of contexts. Parents scuffle after their boisterous young children as they jump into lakes in the summer and sled or ski down snowy hills in the winter. Friends chat contentedly and laugh continuously over hot cups of coffee or hot chocolate in the plentiful cafes. University students run excitedly up to their friends when they meet in the hallways or in between buildings to discuss that test or presentation they were anxious for, highly anticipated plans for the weekend, or the moment that cute person smiled at them in class. In other words, like pretty much any place. Just that, as an added benefit, people tend to be quite respectful of each other's privacy and personal space, and it's not considered weird to have natural pauses or silences in gatherings or conversation, spend time in public by yourself, and so on.
5) Saunas really are an integral part of Finnish culture indeed.
It stands to reason that sauna is the Finnish loanword that has become best known and most frequently used in English and other languages. It's something which is truly integral in the culture, to the extent that most homes or apartment buildings will feature them, even in the largest of Finnish cities. It has been rumored in some of the books that I've read that United Nations Peacekeepers hailing from Finland have built them abroad, even in climates as hot as sub-Saharan Africa. The general idea is for people to spend time inside the sauna, preferably with a beer in hand, throwing water periodically onto the boiling rocks and release more steam so as to make the sauna hotter and get sweattier, before eventually rushing out once it gets too hot to bare for a moment of fresh air, a quick dip in an adjacent body of cool water, or (for the most adventurous), a brief bout of rolling around in the snow, repeating the cycle several times in a ritual which is held to be beneficial for the body and releasing lots of toxins. I experienced saunas in Finland a number of times, and though I lack the resilience to put up with temperature extremes that most Finns are used to as a result of growing up taking sauna their whole lives, it was always a highly pleasant experience that left me feeling refreshed and re-energized afterwards.
6) So too are mökkis.
One of the things that I have learned over the course of 2018, as I have spent all of it (save for the month of June while I was home in the USA) living in and exploring Nordic countries (I've now been to every sovereign Nordic state), is that Nordic folk are the unquestioned masters of getting to the literal middle of nowhere. It's something out of which they've practically make an art form. Every Nordic state has its iteration on a family cabin that most inhabitants will have, a sanctuary for introspective relaxation and fun memories with loved ones far from civilization, situated in a place of great natural beauty and worth. The Finnish version is called a mökki, and there are numerous types of them situated in different places and along different bodies of water - sea or island mökkis, river mökkis, lake mökkis (which, given the innumerable quantity of lakes that dot the Finnish landscape are probably the most common), and so on. I had the immense pleasure of getting to experience one myself, which was located next to a river along some slight rapids, tucked away among rolling hills and thickets a half hour away from the nearest bus stations in either direction. Long considered a rustic opposite to the luxuries of city living, many mökkis are being made into literal second homes, complete with Internet, electricity, and indoor plumbing. Even with the addition of 21st century trappings, it's still a reminder of the typical Finnish yearning for quiet and tranquil spaces, the connection to nature which is a key component of the nation's overall character.
7) Public transport is awesome.
In spite of being a relatively sparsely populated nation, Finland boasts highly well-organized, efficient, and frequent public transportation services. The only city in Finland with a metro is the capital of Helsinki, and though I didn't live there, I did ride the metro numerous times during my stays there, and found it to be a good way to get around. In Turku, which doesn't have a metro, the main way to get around is the public bus. Most Finns have a bus card even if they own a car, as wherever you live in the city, plentiful services connect different neighborhoods and areas through frequent services, up to four times an hour up to 11:30 pm during the week, and 2:30 am on the weekends. The intercity bus system is also stellar, being comfortable, well-connected, nearly always on time, and with efficiently well-planned stops.
8) Finnish coffee is the lifeblood of society.
I'm glad that I've learned to like coffee in college, as it's a truly key component of Finnish culture, frequently shared among friends or offered to house guests as an informal socialization event. Finnish coffee gets a bit of a bad reputation, particularly among Italian expats, as I noticed, for being very strong and admittedly harsh-tasting filter coffee. Though an ardent lover of espresso and cappuccino, I personally came to find a special place in my heart for Finnish coffee, as I had many warm cups in the university cafeteria and tasty lattes in local cafes that have been among my favorites. Indeed, Finnish cities are full of tasty cafes, and I came to form special bonds and memories with many of those present in Turku. Need a quick cup to get you going in-between classes? Assarin ulakko, the largest university restaurant, is your best bet. Want to hear a cello quartet or a poetry show in a vegan place full of feminist and queer theory textbooks? Kirjakahvila on Vanha Suurtori is there for you. Want to get some work done or have a nice conversation with a good friend in a calm environment with nice, smooth colors and delicious smoothie bowls? Try out my personal favorite, Kembuz. Want to treat yourself to something a little bougier, like decadent slices of artisan chocolate or carrot cake, fair trade teas, or rich lattes? CafeArt is your gig. And so on the list goes.
9) The education system really does rock.
The Finnish education system is frequently and widely lauded as one of, if not the very best, in the entire world. Though I can't speak on the K-12 level, I can certainly say that I'm overall quite satisfied with the structure I found in my courses at the University of Turku, and the knowledge I gained over the course of the semester I spent there. I took full advantage of my ability as an exchange student to take courses among different departments, taking a beginner-level Finnish for foreigners class, a Finnish dialectology and linguistics course, a Nordic gender studies course, a Finnish society course in the sociology department, a political science class on border regions and identity studies in the Baltic Sea region, and a Swedish night class outside of the university system altogether. I found all of the courses to be organized and taught quite well, featuring a good balance of lectures and interactive discussions or group activities, and with plentiful space for students to structure their schedules, complete their work, and receive credit in ways that were best suited to their own lives.
10) The bureaucratic structure is surprising.
On the other hand, I found that for all the stereotypes of Nordic organization and efficiency, these do not extend in the least to the bureaucratic structure of the university system, at least at the University of Turku. I found myself often sent in loops, misinformed on the requirements for different courses I was interested in (as course descriptions on the university portal were very often copied and pasted from one year to another without including any changes), and was caught having to navigate the highly difficult situation of making sure that I had enough credits to transfer back home and retain my full-time student status and scholarships, in spite of the fact that there was a shortage of English courses taught this past semester, most were worth few credits based on the skewed transfer system of my home institution, and I had to navigate highly conflicting and differently organized schedules and courses. Some met twice or thrice weekly for periods of three to four weeks, and then the grades were entirely based on exams or essays completed independently. Others met once or twice weekly for up to four months, and then had grades entirely based on mandatory lecture journals. It was all highly confusing, and nearly got me in deep trouble.
11) Though it has its flaws, wellfare state is something to be admired.
I don't claim by any means to be an expert on the Finnish wellfare state, and will save most deep reflection or transition of information for posts that I will publish in due time of little assignments from my Finnish society course (among others) that will help shed more light on the topic in an informative way. But suffice it to say for now that Finnish citizens are entitled to a myriad of commendable services and privileges such as high-quality free healthcare, education, job and unemployment benefits, and so on that could serve as models for numerous other countries.
12) The amount of societal trust there is truly is mindblowing and reassuring.
In my experience so far, this is something that applies to effectively all Nordic countries, but since I've lived there and experienced local life the longest, I can definitely confirm it for Finland beyond any shadow of a doubt.
By and large, people tend to be very relaxed with one another, have few guards up of any kind, and are highly trusting of each other. Perhaps the best example of what I'm talking about which I experienced regularly were the coat racks in the front entrance of Assarin Ullakko, my favorite student cafeteria where I ate lunch nearly every day in Turku. As soon as people would come inside, they would leave their jackets and all other heavy apparel needed to brave the weather outside, as well as their bags, down by the entrance, leaving computers, books, and all other contents downstairs, sometimes even going as far as to only remove a single credit card from their wallets and only keep that card and their cell phone on their person as they moved upstairs to queue for their meal. Even in more public places this held true - people would think nothing of leaving all their things spread out on a table on a cafe, with a bag and coat hanging on their chair, while running to the bathroom. And no one worries about their things getting stolen, because it's just not done, and it's simply something that doesn't have to be a cause for concern.
For me, this was actually one of the hardest things to get used to culturally. Coming from the United States and Italy, which are two places where I would never dream of leaving things around so readily for fear of them disappearing (a mindset that had been even deeper engrained in my head by the time I arrived in Finland thanks to my two 2017 sojourns in the ex-Soviet Union), this was something that I got used to very gradually. For the first few months of my stay, I wouldn't leave anything downstairs at all, unzipping my coat as I walked in the door, leaving it on, and hauling my backpack up the stairs to leave them at the seat I claimed. My instinct to be careful proved a very difficult habit to break. But over time, as I came to guage the safety of the situation, very much appreciated this level of social trust, and wanted to be a part of it, I would start to leave my things downstairs by the door as I walked into Assarin with fewer and fewer trepidation, the anxiety in the back of my head diminishing a little more every time I went there for lunch, until by about two-thirds of the way through my stay it felt pretty much second nature.
This level of cohesion and trust on a social level is indicative of a very beautiful aspect of Finnish culture. Things are very much collaborate group efforts, and people are trusted to do their part in an elegant, efficient, and expert manner, with great results the great majority of the time.
12) The amount of societal trust there is truly is mindblowing and reassuring.
In my experience so far, this is something that applies to effectively all Nordic countries, but since I've lived there and experienced local life the longest, I can definitely confirm it for Finland beyond any shadow of a doubt.
By and large, people tend to be very relaxed with one another, have few guards up of any kind, and are highly trusting of each other. Perhaps the best example of what I'm talking about which I experienced regularly were the coat racks in the front entrance of Assarin Ullakko, my favorite student cafeteria where I ate lunch nearly every day in Turku. As soon as people would come inside, they would leave their jackets and all other heavy apparel needed to brave the weather outside, as well as their bags, down by the entrance, leaving computers, books, and all other contents downstairs, sometimes even going as far as to only remove a single credit card from their wallets and only keep that card and their cell phone on their person as they moved upstairs to queue for their meal. Even in more public places this held true - people would think nothing of leaving all their things spread out on a table on a cafe, with a bag and coat hanging on their chair, while running to the bathroom. And no one worries about their things getting stolen, because it's just not done, and it's simply something that doesn't have to be a cause for concern.
For me, this was actually one of the hardest things to get used to culturally. Coming from the United States and Italy, which are two places where I would never dream of leaving things around so readily for fear of them disappearing (a mindset that had been even deeper engrained in my head by the time I arrived in Finland thanks to my two 2017 sojourns in the ex-Soviet Union), this was something that I got used to very gradually. For the first few months of my stay, I wouldn't leave anything downstairs at all, unzipping my coat as I walked in the door, leaving it on, and hauling my backpack up the stairs to leave them at the seat I claimed. My instinct to be careful proved a very difficult habit to break. But over time, as I came to guage the safety of the situation, very much appreciated this level of social trust, and wanted to be a part of it, I would start to leave my things downstairs by the door as I walked into Assarin with fewer and fewer trepidation, the anxiety in the back of my head diminishing a little more every time I went there for lunch, until by about two-thirds of the way through my stay it felt pretty much second nature.
This level of cohesion and trust on a social level is indicative of a very beautiful aspect of Finnish culture. Things are very much collaborate group efforts, and people are trusted to do their part in an elegant, efficient, and expert manner, with great results the great majority of the time.
I hope you've enjoyed reading some of my reflections about my time in Finland. I'm working on getting some more of those dormant drafts out into the blogosphere as soon as possible, and it's been fun getting back into writing after such a long hiatus. Looking forward to what comes ahead.
All the best!
Hei hei,
Nico
My favorite Finnish song, meaning "on the other side of the world"
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| One of the numerous beautiful sunsets Mother Nature treated me to by the lake a 20-minute walk from my place, which became something of a sanctuary for me. |
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