An American Werewolf in Finland

Fear And Loathing In Europe

2012-02-08T11:01:00.000-08:00

Ladies and gentlemen, in a few days I will embark on an epic journey. While back in Los Angeles for the holiday season I was talking to a friend of mine who plays in a band called Prima Donna. I asked him how it was going and how the band was doing and he said that they were booking a tour around Europe in February and March. Kind of half serious, half joking I said, "Well I'm living in Helsinki and I'm unemployed, let me know if you guys need an extra hand". We clinked our drinks and laughed. Long time readers will recall that in October 2009 I flew to Stockholm, Sweden to see them perform as the opener on Green Day's European tour. Read that blog post here.

A day or two later I got a phone call from him and in a raspy voice he said, "I just got home from practice and I was just talking to the boys. Dude, how serious were you about joining us on tour?"

When else would I be legitimately unemployed and living in Europe at the exact time that a friend's band is planning a European extravaganza? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!

"Oh man, I am so excited, it is going to be fun", I yelped.

And to that he replied:

"Well 'fun' isn't the right word. It's really more of an experience."

Now, pragmatism has a way of getting the best of me sometimes, so there was a lot that went into this decision. I am still paying rent (now with no income) and being in a new city every night has the unfortunate consequence of spending my days in a van amidst several other grown men and, did I mention that I'm pee shy and a germophobe? So in the end I decided that while I am clearly taking full advantage of my being unemployed, for my bank account's, health and bladder's sake I ought to only join for a portion of the tour, half as it turns out. And since we were planning on playing a lot of small cities I have never heard of before, having access to major airports for my arrival and departure was also a factor.

My job is to carry gear and snap lots of photos, but other than that, as far as I know, I get to drink beer. I will also be tweeting from the road if interested, follow my twitter @tuomasbrock and you can follow them @primadonnaband. Their new album Bless This Mess is already out fresh this week on the itunes store.

So here are the dates!

10.02 Berlin, Germany @ Wild at Heart
12.02 Usti Nad Labem, Czech Republic @ Doma Music Pub
13.02 Vienna, Austria @ Arena Beisl
14.02 Velden, Austria @ Bluesiana
15.02 Conzano, Italy @ Uva Blu (free show)
16.02 Arezzo, Italy @ Velvet Underground
17.02 La Spezia, Italy @ Shake Club
18.02 Torino, Italy @ United Club
19.02 Milan, Italy @ Ligera
21.02 Zaragoza, Spain @ Sala Paramo
22.02 Estepona, Spain @ Louie Louie
23.02 Cadiz, Spain @ Supersonic
24.02 Madrid, Spain @ Wurlitzer Ballroom

Then sadly I must return to Finland (but not before the weekend spent in Madrid!), but the rest of the dates are as follows:

25.02 Villa Real Des Infantes, Spain @ Japan Rock Club
26.02 Monzon, Spain @ Zona Rock
28.02 Lyon, France @ Trokson
29.02 Rennes, France @ Mondo Bizzarro
01.03 Cambridge, U.K. @ the Junction w/ Eddie and the Hot Rods
02.03 Harlow, U.K. @ The Square
03.03 Westcliff, U.K. @ Riga Music Club w/ Eddie and the Hot Rods
05.05 Brussels, Belgium @ DNA
06.03 Aurich, Germany @ Sixties Pub
07.03 Aachen, Germany @ HQ
08.03 Lille, France @ Maison des Etudiants
09.03 Marange-Silvange, France @ Dock 412
10.03 Essen, Germany @ Panic Room

Go check 'em out if you are around any of these places.

Here is a video of them playing one of their latest singles acoustic

Dr. Strangejob

2012-01-30T06:53:00.000-08:00

Or: How I learned to stop worrying and love the Socialist Welfare State.

That's it folks. I got my diploma in the mail earlier this month and slowly government organization after government organization are learning that I am no longer a student. So that means that I am officially unemployed and no more student monies for me. Funny though, KELA threw a fit about me not earning enough credits and threatened to pull my funding a few months ago, to which I responded that I had earned enough credits but that they had yet to be calculated, to which they responded "not good enough". So they decided to cut my student money starting January, to which I replied, "I will be graduated by then anyway so it's moot". Then last week I got a letter from KELA saying that I had indeed earned enough credits and that my student money would be reinstated.

And now, since I am not a student, KELA is asking I pay back the money that they told me they weren't going to give me, but gave me anyway.

But despite the rather frustrating and seemingly pointless exchange of money back and forth between me and KELA, I have to admit that I admire this system.

The other day I went to the Finnish unemployment office to register as unemployed so that I could get unemployment monies. So basically, while I remain eternally undecided where I want to reside in the future (California vs. Helsinki) I can at least have the government temporarily help pay my rent, effectively buying me some extra time.

Now, due to the vicious rhetoric used in America, the idea of welfare and unemployment money has a kind of a taint on it, which is why it took me a few days to get the courage to go in. So I approached the problem rather sheepishly.

When I walked in I found the info person and, since I am more confident when I do, I spoke English. The info lady gave me a look that, if I were in parts of the rural American South, is best translated to, "You in the wrong place shoog!".

I quickly changed to Finnish and pulled out my passport which cleared the confusion and her attitude changed from cautious surprise into cheery and helpful. She sat me down at a computer and had me fill out an online form, and when I needed help on the more difficult questions, she ran over and eased me through them. And BAM! I was registered in the system.

Step two was to wait for a case worker to give me deets about what I could get, how I could get it and what my responsibilities were. So I took my vuoronumero and sat in the seat next to the seat that looked like it had just been peed on.

Finally my number was called and I cautiously approached the office and, once again, started in English having my passport on the ready. She, turned out, spoke English well, one could argue almost better than I. So after a quick summary of "who am I and why am I here" we got into it. But first she had to see my diploma, which I did not have on me as my visit to the office was somewhat unplanned and only because, "I was in the area". Fortunately I had had the foresight to put a scanned image of it on my iPad, so I pulled it out and asked her if it would fly.

She took the device into her hands and it was immediately clear she was not familiar with the technology. She looked at me and said, "I've never used one of these...I can't afford one".

Oh sheesh, and I'm the one applying for unemployment. She didn't mean it at all in a judgmental way, but the irony was not lost on me. Full time employed case worker at the unemployment office saying, "I can't afford that" to someone seeking unemployment.

Then after showing my iPad to her boss, my digital diploma was accepted as proof enough and the counseling could continue.

After explaining the rules to me she started filling out my data file on her computer. I thought about a question I wanted to ask and started the 1st syllable and then thought better of the way I had it phrased and stopped. She looked at me and said.

"Oh, are you in a hurry?"
To which I laughed and said, "No, I'm unemployed, remember?"
"That was the correct answer", she replied with a smile.

We laughed and then swapped brief stories about traveling in the United States, and I was off.

It was a pleasant experience. It really would be a shame if the U.S. ended up like that, right?

Space Nazis!

2012-01-28T06:55:00.000-08:00

You had me at "space nazis".

Airline Etiquette

2012-01-19T02:34:00.000-08:00

Well I am back from a three week stay in sunny Southern California, and boy was it sunny. I mean winters are always pretty mild in LA but this was unseasonably warm, meaning that the beaches were full of happy sun bathers and that I regretted not packing shorts. I ate my In-N-Out, my carnitas burritos, my lomo saltado, my pho, my huevos rancheros, my pork ribs and there was a new addition to the must have list: the Elvis Burger from the Standing Room in Redondo Beach. A burger with peanut butter, tomato jam, jalapeños, sausage and bacon. It was impossibly delicious, so much so, that I went back the next day for a second (which wreaked major havoc on my digestive system).

After that, my siblings and I took on the role of the worm in the Big Apple as we painted the town red with a paint brush made of pure Brock. As I recall, we may have been offered a free shot of whiskey as long as we promised to leave the bar afterwards, it was more implied than directly stated. But that night is a little hazy and let us never talk about it again. And with New York came the addition of Katz's rueben and pastrami sandwiches as must haves on the culinary "to do" list. But I digress.

Let me get to the point. As I sat on the plane bloated from the holiday season's offerings, I had a lot of time to think about what annoyed me about travelers in this day and age. Already on the way over there in December I had begun to compile a list of airline do's and don'ts. Why do I have any right to talk about such matters, you ask? Well as the son of a former airline employee, receiving all of the benefits, it is fair to say that I have spent the better part of my life sitting on airplanes.

I have seen it all; celebrities, crashes, fights, fires, police escorts etc. I've made emergency landings, circled airports, been in some of the most hair raising turbulence, flown through thunderstorms. I have spent nights in countless airports across the world; Atlanta, Paris, Brussels, Munich, Amsterdam, Prague etc. I have even heard the very Hollywood-esque, "is there a doctor on board?" Then all at once everyone scans the aisles for someone to get up hoping it's George Clooney from ER who miraculously saves the life of a fellow passenger to the applause of the entire plane. Instead, someone gets up, shrugs, and says "I'm a Dentist?".

But without further ado here is The American Werewolf in Finland's Guide To Airline Etiquette:

1. The airplane is NOT an extension of your living room. If you are old enough to cut your own steak, you are old enough to wear clothes. No pajamas and no sweat pants that say "juicy" across the ass. You are in public and I expect you to carry yourself as if you are. I know pajamas are comfortable, but guess what, there is a lot of shit about being an adult that isn't "comfortable".

2. I don't know who you are, but don't act like the rules don't apply to you. If your seats aren't called for boarding, don't board. We all land at the same time regardless of who is the first one on the plane. I know overhead compartment space is low, but sometimes you have to put your bag under your seat, it's life. Also, no electronics during take off and landing, so pull those fucking iPOD earbuds out and pick up a book you cretin. And do not get out of your seat to retrieve your bag from the overhead bin immediately after touchdown. If you needed your shit that bad you should have put it under the seat in front of you.

3. You are NOT the only one having a hard day. Just remember that when you are complaining to the flight attendant about not finding overhead space or whatever, you are holding up 200 other people. It is not that important, just sit down and shut up.

4. Be polite to people. Flying is stressful for most people, tensions are running high and it's generally not that much fun. Instead of immediately going nonlinear on an employee or a fellow passenger, keep in mind there are a million other people in the same boat as you and just take a deep breath apologize or politely air your grievance. See rule 3.

5. Let it go. I have witnessed this. It is related to rule 4. If someone accidentally kicks you and neglects to apologize for it, I understand it is annoying, but let it go. Sitting on the tarmac in a crowded plane is NOT the appropriate forum. Just repeat to yourself, "there is a special place in hell for people who do that", shrug it off and continue doing your crossword puzzle. 10 letters meaning "pay no mind" - Let It Slide.

6. Prepare accordingly. "What? I have to take my laptop out?" "What, only 3 ounces of liquid?" I know it sucks that you can't bring your economy size shampoo with you, but the rules are clearly stated EVERYWHERE, so don't act shocked, you can buy another $3 worth of shampoo at your destination. The only reason you get to pout because of that is if you had to pour out a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue, and let's face it, if you are drinking Johnny Walker Blue, you are clearly of the wealth class that can afford to fly regularly, you should know better.

7. Take subtle hints from your seat mates. This has happened to me. If I put ear plugs in and close my eyes, it means that I am not interested in conversing with you at this time. Not that your conversation isn't riveting, not that you aren't a nice guy, but seriously that isn't even subtle.

8. Finally, and this may be an issue of some contention. Flying is NOT a right, it is a privilege. Humans were not meant to fly. If flying was a right we would all have a sweet set of wings on our backs. Follow my logic here. Walking is a right, breathing is a right. Driving is NOT a right. You have to prove yourself able to operate a vehicle before you are granted license. So behave, it really isn't that hard and YES it can be taken away from you (Alec Baldwin).

Whoa! Thanks for letting me vent, I feel better. Feel free to add your own or disagree with me!

In-N-Out

2011-12-08T01:55:00.001-08:00

We have a saying in California. It goes, "You know you are from California if you know what In-N-Out is and feel sorry for everyone who doesn't". Yes the infamous hamburger stand that is too delicious to be fast food but too fast to be anything else is part of the identity of any Californian. It's not necessarily the best burger in town, a topic that is the subject of many heated debates, but one thing is for sure, there is no reason to eat at any other chain restaurant and the only reason one is disappointed is that the meal ended too quickly. It is available pretty much ubiquitously in California, so no matter if you are winding down San Francisco's Lombard St., cruising L.A.'s Sunset Blvd., Strolling around San Diego's Gas Lamp district or being sprayed in the face with pepper spray in Davis, you are never alone if you have a Double-Double in your hand.

This is serious business, there is even a legend of an April Fools joke where In-N-Out teased New York City residents by putting a "Coming Soon: In-N-Out" sign in a shop window. This level of trickery should be banned by the Geneva Convention, but I will let it slide because the fool in this case was L.A.'s arch nemesis.

But I would be doing both of my heritages a disservice if I did not somehow do something Finngelino-esque about it. So here it is: The Finnish In-N-Out Ad Campaign!

"I'm Jean Sibelius, I like my music classical and my burgers classic. A #1, grilled onions"

"I'm the bear outside the Finnish National Museum, I like my burgers Animal Style"

"I'm Aleksis Kivi and there is only one burger that can fulfill the hunger of me and my Seven Brothers."

"I am Tuomiokirkko and as far as I am concerned, there is only one Holy Trinity: A Double-Double, Fries and a Coke."

"I'm the Havis Amanda and I have to watch my figure, so I'll have a cheeseburger. But throw in a strawberry shake for me to dip my fries into."

"I'm the seal that spits water at Amanda all day, I don't care for veggies, just give me a flying dutchman"

"I'm Alvar Aalto. I don't care for the shape, but it sure tastes swell"

"I'm Pikku Myy and a saucy lady needs extra sauce"

Now What?

2011-12-01T07:51:00.001-08:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement to make. My original purpose for being in Finland is coming to an end, and rapidly so. I alluded to it in a recent post by saying that "my school requirements have subsided". I did not merely mean that exam week was over. I mean it's done. The whole kit and caboodle. Finished. Finito. The only thing that stands between me and my degree at this point is a few weeks of bureaucracy. So technically the fat lady hasn't sung yet, but she is backstage in the greenroom gargling water.

I went back and I read my first post and tried to think about how I must have felt when I wrote it, just hours off the plane from LA. Suffering from a mixture of emotional turmoil, physical exhaustion, jet lag, stress, confusion, and inebriation from the beers my host had graciously given me, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Of course on the outside I maintained the visage of my omnipresent neutrality that drives my parents crazy, but on the inside I was in shock. The future was pretty unwritten; I had never seen my campus or where I was going to live and the faces that I now see regularly were still those of strangers. I wrote, "This is day 1 of an indefinite stay in Finland". And I can't help but chuckle at that now. Indefinite? HA! It flew by.

Indefinite, hmmm, that is an interesting word. The last time I recall seeing it used with any significance was when I was in Tokyo's Narita airport. A plane had just crashed and all flights were labeled "Delayed: Indefinitely". But many of the flights left only hours later regardless of the awkwardness of taxiing passed the still smoldering wreckage of that morning's "incident". Depending on the context it can mean that it is unlimited or merely just undefined. Something that is indefinite may only last a few hours, or it could last forever. Back then my stay was indefinite because it wasn't worth defining. But even now my stay remains so, but for different reasons.

I suppose when one is approaching a mountain it is always going to look intimidating when looking up it. But when I hit the crest late last spring and saw the other side for the first time, I already started to panic. "Damn, I gotta figure shit out". Once again the future is unwritten.

My original plan was to come to school here and move back to Southern California upon completion. I am sure many of my friends back home can attest to that. In the months approaching my departure they expressed concern that I would find a Finnish girl and stay here forever, to which I replied, "No, on the off chance I find a girl I'll just bring her back to California with me". I mean what Finnish girl wouldn't want to live in Los Angeles, right? On a side note: ladies I am still single, if you need to confess your love, now is the time.

But now that I am on this side of the experience it really isn't as easy as whistling a tune while I pack. Moving sucks no matter how far it is, and doing so over an ocean doesn't make it any easier. Then there is the fact that I have already moved to and from Finland once before. Now I am two years + deep in possessions and somehow no matter how empty my bags were when I visited LA, they always came back to Helsinki bursting at the seams. Possessions are just possessions, it is really more of a nuisance. But last time I lived here I had tickets back to California leaving pretty much the day after my program ended, something I have considered since then to have been a mistake. Why am I even talking about the travails of moving? I haven't even made up my mind yet!

If you are curious, I have expressed interest in job posts all over the world, not just limited to SoCal and Helsinki.

So the certainty of two years ago has been replaced with indecision. It doesn't help that I am being attacked at all sides with prodding questions about my future, or even worse, when people have already made up their minds for me. "Oh you graduated? I'll visit you in LA!". Of course that is the obvious expectation and not an unwarranted one, but on a philosophical level it is kind of weird and uncomfortable when it is expressed.

On a good day I am optimistic about whatever version of the future I have chosen for the time being, but on a bad day my curtains remain drawn and I sit in the dark trying to rationalize the problem. "I miss my friends, but the political system is screwed, I want a burrito, but I'd have to buy a car, I love Helsinki, but I hate winter, I am much healthier here, but I miss decent food" etc. etc. etc. in an infinite loop. I remain fickle at best. If it was summer year round in Helsinki, there would be no question, I would want to live here. But as my father points out, so would a billion other people.

I am not trying to be an ass with a "you'll have to stay tuned until next week" ratings bump. When it comes down to the question of where I am going to be in January 2012, I really don't know. And let's face it, it's December 1st. I can hear the tick, tick, tick, tick, and I don't even own an analog clock.

In an ideal world, Helsinki would be located two hours by car north of Los Angeles. I would happily trade Santa Barbara any day of the week.

Construction

2011-11-14T12:48:00.001-08:00

So over the the last year you may have seen me commenting or tweeting (@finngelino) about living in a neighborhood under construction. There has been completely unnecessary noise at 6:30 AM followed by silence during normal hours of the day. There have been cement trucks blocking my exits. There is the fact that my friends have had a hard time finding my apartment due to all of the construction. Then there are the construction workers who stare at me as I lazily eat porridge by the window. Sure, most of the time it is tolerable, but sometimes it has been down right annoying.

But when life gives you lemons you make lemonade. And I don't mean to toot my own horn, but this lemonade is pretty damn sweet.

I wasn't able to take photos everyday, due to being out of town or forgetfulness. Then there were times when not much noticeable work was being done. For example the covered scaffolding stayed on the building much longer than I let on, there was just nothing to take pictures of. But still, just shy of 175 photos taken throughout the year between September, 2010 and November 2011.

Enjoy!

Occupy Helsinki

2011-11-11T00:55:00.001-08:00

I have been pretty curious about the occupy wall street protests going on in the US and I would love to join, except I have the perfect excuse, I live in Finland. But seriously if I were in L.A. I would have at least gone down during the day and donated water bottles or something, walked around, given my support, etc. I am much too clinically paranoid to spend the night there without thinking that the Oakland police are going to drive down to L.A. and shoot beanbags at my face. My only asset is that I look like Jens Lekman, I need to preserve that.

Jens Lekman in some bushes

Of course this Occupy _____ (insert location) movement is a global phenomena. So out of curiosity I looked up events in Helsinki and on October 15th there was a rally. But conveniently I was out of town in Estonia that weekend. But now that my school requirements have subsided I have nothing but time on my hands so I investigated Occupy Helsinki further. I found a website called Occupy Together where there is information about gatherings in various cities and what not. It said that there is a Helsinki encampment somewhere behind Musiikkitalo.

Yesterday I decided to investigate. But before I did I sent a snarky tweet that said:

"Gonna go check out the #occupyhelsinki tent. Something tells me not to expect much, or even it's existence."

And well I have to admit my surprise, but there was actually a whole set up. My apologies.

But I was thinking, why the hell are the Finns protesting? Sure it could just be solidarity with Occupy Wall Street, and don't get me wrong, that is totally awesome. But if the U.S. was more like Finland, there wouldn't be an Occupy Wall Street. Universal healthcare, free education, a social safety net, if we had these things in America, many of these protesters would be happy campers and would thus...stop camping. I was reading that the CEO of Nokia, despite the fact that he is doing pretty well for himself, makes only a fraction of what people with analogous positions in America make. I guess he has heavy taxes? And well if the upper class just paid a few percentage points extra in tax and companies like GE paid taxes, the deficit is a lot more likely to clear up than if we just cut funding to NPR, and then perhaps some of these benefits could be paid for, it gets the blood a'boilin'....Whoa nelly, settle down...well I probably don't know enough about all of this to be publishing opinions on the internet. I have my opinions and you can all probably guess to which side they tend to lean, but I think it is only fair to point out that these are more complicated issues than many of us let on. I try not to be preachy about things when I'm not confident I have the whole story...at least when I am sober.

Anywho, I asked one of the people stationed at the camp about what reason the Finns have to protest or if it is just solidarity. She said that it was the most common question asked by foreigners who seem to have this idea that Finland is a socialist utopia. Her answer was that yes of course there is solidarity but that there are also issues that need to be addressed in Finland...namely that politics in Finland are inching closer and closer to the money talks governing style of...drum roll please...The United States.

Now I really don't have enough knowledge on the matter of politics in Finland to discuss this either, but she raises a valid point. It is pretty arrogant for other people to come in and say, "wait a minute you guys don't have any reason to bitch". Complaining is a god given right, and it would be ridiculous and insensitive for an AIDS patient to walk up to someone with chronic Lyme disease and tell them quit bitching. The resident occupier in Helsinki told me that there are many different opinions floating around the camp, but that by far the main point of this whole thing is to complain, it is our right. In other words bring an end to the apathy that plagues us. And by "us" I mean the 99%.

After all the squeaky wheel gets the greece, oops I mean grease. However that idiom assumes that the owner of the wheelbarrow takes care of it.

I gave them my support and I asked them if they needed anything, and if anyone is interested, she said they need two things: firewood and people. It's cold here.

The Zuccotti Park of Helsinki

I asked if that was an outhouse. She said, "No, it's a sauna"

Jens Lekman at Occupy Helsinki (it's uncanny!)

Into The Wild

2011-11-10T01:45:00.000-08:00

Perhaps a little late, but give me a break, I have been busy, but in October I went and hiked around in Nuuksio National Park, just an hour and a half outside of Helsinki. I know Helsinki isn't Los Angeles or anything but it was still pretty cool that an hour and half in a bus dropped us off in the middle of nowhere. If you were on a bus for an hour and a half in LA, you would have probably only travelled from Fairfax to La Brea and people would have been staring at you the whole time. But here in Finland, just a winding country road, bumpy at times and the few other passengers staring at the floor instead of you.

But anyway, here are some photos from that lovely autumn day.

The photo

The making of the photo

Elise is a tree hugger

Here I imagined what I would do if a bear started to chase us. Probably scream like a little girl.

Moss bed

At the end of the hike we found a fire place. It was cold, windy and the air was moist but we had makkara to grill so we attempted to start a fire. It proved difficult. Elise gave up and started to eat her sausage cold. I on the other hand wasn't going to give up. I'd have burned down the whole forest if I had to, my manhood depended on it. So I licked my fingers to test which direction the wind was coming from, designed a wood structure with the proper air inputs, loaded the bottom with pine needles and voila! Hot makkara! And it only took 200 matches!

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-31T11:57:00.000-07:00

Happy Halloween from An American Werewolf in Finland

I don't have anywhere to wear this costume but I will tell you one thing. I am wearing it RIGHT NOW.

Special thanks to Diana for the fantastic photowork!

Spoiler Alert

2011-10-29T07:00:00.000-07:00

I recall high school and collegiate level conversations with film snobs about foreign films and subtitles. To be an elitist snob at that age only means that you praise Europe and ignore the existence of American intellectualism. It's such a travesty when La Femme Nikita or Cinema Paradiso get dubbed into English for the stupid 'mericans who are too lazy to read subtitles. Then you realize that pretty much everything in Spain, France and Italy is dubbed into their respective languages (is this still common practice? I don't honestly know). Besides it is a moot point, people who are too lazy to read subtitles aren't going to see Cinema Paradiso. I think they are more at home with the latest Michael Bay monstrosity.

But Finland doesn't dub anything, with the exception of children's movies, and even then they have an undubbed version for adults to go see. This partly explains why Finns are so good at speaking English...and maybe why I am not as good as I would like to be at speaking Finnish. But I will tell you, it is a god send. I would go insane if I were living in Italy. I have gone to see a couple of foreign language flicks here (by foreign I mean not Finnish or English) and I am impressed at how much I can get out of it from reading the Finnish subtitles, but I need a degree of concentration that I am not accustomed to having when watching a film. If I am watching TV it usually means that I have exhausted my cranial capacity for the day and having to decipher the nuances of a foreign language is not my idea of a way to unwind. So while the speed of my Finnish language intake is severely stunted, hearing Homer Simpson speak with Dan Castellaneta's voice is music to my ears. But I digress.

Regardless of the fact that films from the U.S. are not dubbed into Finnish, these films usually have a title that has been translated. Sometimes these titles are more or less literal translations. For example The Year Without a Santa Claus is Vuosi Ilman Joulupukkia.

Sometimes the title is not a literal translation, but the general gist is the same. For example the movie True Grit becomes Kova Kuin Kivi, which means "hard as a rock". The Austin Powers movie Goldmember becomes Kultamuna or "Gold Egg", having a slang connotation of testicles. The idea is basically the same.

But sometimes you see a Finnish title and think to yourself, "what the fuck were they thinking!" The Finnish title for the movie Shawshank Redemption is Rita Hayworth - Avain Pakoon which literally translates to "Rita Hayworth - The Key to Escape".

Now if you do your research you would find that the Stephen King Novella, on which the movie is based, is called Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption. So one could argue that the translators were merely paying homage to the original title of the work. But, come on, for the sake of ticket sales, you could be a little more cryptic can't you?

That is like translating The Empire Strikes Back into Darth Vader - The Ironic Father or Citizen Kane into A Sled Named Rosebud.

T-ART-U

2011-10-23T04:19:00.000-07:00

The other weekend I paid a little visit to Tartu, Estonia. It is the second biggest city in Estonia weighing in at a whopping 100,000 people. I was interested in Tartu for two reasons. First, it's not exactly number one on many tourist destination lists and sometimes it's nice to take the path less travelled. And, second, as I have insinuated in previous posts, Tallinn, Estonia's capital and Finland's booze run destination, is just the Tijuana of Helsinki and I figured that Tartu might give a better image of what real Estonia is like. Besides, I had an invite and a free place to stay and I'm usually pretty keen on checking out a new place.

Tartu is a small university town with a healthy student population and buildings from three different eras; the cozy old wooden houses of the pre-soviet times, the grey concrete monoliths of the soviet times, and then a few of the more modern glass or architecturally expressive buildings of the post soviet times, (which only ended 20 years ago). Fortunately, I was staying in one of the cute wooden, fire heated houses on an old tree-lined street.

The people were nice and the beer was cheap. For the cost of a beer in down town Helsinki, I was able to buy three in down town Tartu so I couldn't help but feel like Mr. Moneybags, though I got the impression that the salaries of the locals were proportionate to the low cost of booze. In either case I got to treat myself rather nicely without the cost of actually treating myself (this culminated with a delicious souvlaki in a greek restaurant in Tallinn on my way back home, I reviewed it on tripadvisor).

But what I found most surprising was the amount of street art in town. In retrospect, the robust student culture probably explains it but still it seemed like there was something interesting to look at around every corner. Below is a small gallery of what I saw.

Estonians are Muumi fans too.

Me and one of my supposed doppelgängers

It makes sense when you zoom out

This is just creepy

Very clever. [rolls eyes]

This had some racist meaning, but I can't remember

You have got to love toadstool

I was informed by my Estonian guide that this guy is the Dick Cheney of Estonia. His name is Edgar Saavisar and he is the mayor of Tallinn. Apparently he is a little too friendly with the Russians and makes real estate deals that are personally profitable but of questionable value to the public. (The "I threw up" sticker is my added touch)

It Really Gets My Coat

2011-10-21T08:12:00.000-07:00

It is that time of year again. It is getting colder by the day and all hope of indian summers are behind us. All we have to look forward to are darker days and subzero temperatures. Right now we are in this limbo period between the more pleasant autumn days and the bitter gaze of old man winter. Slowly I am putting on more and more layers in order to fight off the creeping chills, but it's not so bad yet. Most days are manageable, but a few have left me less than willing to leave the house.

While I am starting to feel the chilling arctic winds through the layers of clothing I put on, I am hesitant to reach for my big guns at this stage, even though they would bring welcome relief. But it is a bit premature now. My biggest fear is that reaching for my nuclear arsenal of winter protection at this point would lead to it not being as effective in a few months when I am really going to need it. You can't add clothes once you are already wearing all of them. If you exhaust your A-team right away, then you've got nothing but mediocrity to help you (On a side note, this may be all the justification a shopaholic needs to buy a new coat). So I practice self control and maybe throw on an extra layer or two in order to keep the cold only slightly chilling rather than unbearable. Oh, god did I just use the word "unbearable" to describe how cold it is now? It's only going to get worse.

That raises an interesting point. In my two years of living here I have asked the life long natives how they get used to it. But that is making quite a brazen assumption that the Finns who have lived here their whole lives are actually used to it. And so unsurprisingly the reply is often, "I've lived here for 30 years and I'm still not used to the winters". It is not fair for those of us from warmer climates to assume that Finns can take the winters any better than the rest of us. Sure they have an arsenal of street knowledge that may make the pill a little easier to swallow, but I've been in conversations where a local will get pissy if you jokingly state that they are not allowed to complain about the cold. When it is minus 20, such matters are to be taken seriously.

But who am I kidding, we are still a ways off from those types of temperatures. I can still get by wearing surprisingly little. But every now and again I catch myself eying my heavier coats. "Oh, I'll just wear it to the market right now," I'll contemplate in order to avoid the need to apply several layers (yes I am that lazy). But it is a slippery slope. First I'll wear it to the market, then on an evening walk, then on the short trip to the library...and then BAM! It's barely 0 and I am wearing it everyday WITH layers. This is complicated stuff!

I must continue to exhibit self control. It's like when I get a bag of candy. I make a point to eat a proportionate amount of the salmiakkis so that I can avoid having nothing to dilute them with at the end. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a mild salmiakki from time to time, but it's a flavor that wears thin pretty quick.

So, just as in the candy example, I exert self control and keep that parka, with it's warm inner lining and thick wind proof hood that buttons up all the way to my nose, on the hanger...waiting for the right time to go nuclear.

Cute Times A Billion

2011-10-05T09:53:00.000-07:00

Went for a walk today in the autumn light near Kumpulan Kartano. Hadn't walked around there before despite it being right next to my house. Found a cute neighborhood full of wooden houses in the middle of a small foresty area. There was this sign and I had to share. I think it speaks for itself.

Live At Buggagepop 2011

2011-09-19T12:56:00.000-07:00

Last month I had the honor of performing my EP, Durian Grey, in its entirety at an exclusive music festival in the town of Loimaa, Finland. A friend of mine filmed the opening track "Astrological Love Triangle" and posted it on the interwebs and gave me a link. So if you would like to take a look-see you can find it here. Enjoy!

Astrological Love Triangle Live At Buggagepop 2011

Oh and there are still a few copies of my EP left, and by that I mean an infinite number. You can download it here.

Durian Grey EP

I Think My Baby Is A Communist

2011-09-18T10:26:00.000-07:00

I have an unhealthy fascination with communism. Not just any communism, it has to be Soviet communism. Sure Chinese communism is cool too...I guess, but Soviet communism will always have a special place in my heart. It has a certain cartoonish quality to it that I find amusing. I wasn't alive when we were in the depths of the Cold War, when nuclear annihilation was imminent and the only thing that could save you was having a school desk nearby to dive under. And I was much too young to grasp the emotional and political implications of tearing down the Berlin Wall. Mccarthyism was over so as a kid growing up in California, not starting my conscious life until the '90s, my impression of the former Soviet Union was largely based on this clip from a popular animated TV show. Sorry, I couldn't find it in English, but you get the picture.

I remember a friend of mine at school somehow got his mitts on a KGB ID and I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. Now I know that you can buy knock-off KGB IDs from ebay for just a few bucks, so in retrospect I can't help but question its authenticity, but still as a preteen I was allowed to let my imagination wander. Come to think of it, the only real bit of information that I really knew about the USSR was that they were somehow responsible for motivating us to get to the moon. The space race told a pretty one sided view. Instead of enemies we were competitors; they had Sputnik, we had Apollo 11. A child fascinated with Russia did not raise the same alarm bells as a child fascinated with, say...I don't know, the Nazis? So between Boris and Natasha, Zangief from Street Fighter, Yakov Smirnoff and Homer's accidental brush with defecting to Russia, how could I not develop some strange misguided fascination?

I remember my first time in Estonia when I went there with my brother about 10 years ago and seeing things written in Russian Cyrillic and being mesmerized. And then when he and I went to Prague and shirts and stickers with the hammer and sickle and the letters CCCP on them were being sold like they were popcorn at the movies. These tourist nic-nacs only solidified communism's cartoonish appeal.

But regardless of the many close encounters I had had, and regardless of having been to Finland about a million times while growing up, Moscow seemed like it was on a different planet. That is until 2006 when I actually went there. You know that cheesy feeling that overly romantic people say they get when they step out of the metro and see the Eiffel Tower for the first time? That almost dream like sensation, you've been waiting your whole life to see it and you can't believe you're actually there, skin tingling, heart racing, a feeling that is otherworldly. Well as I stepped out of the bus on a cold October morning just paces away from Red Square, I felt it. How could I not when I had views like this, a photo I took while the sun rose behind St. Basil's Cathedral.

And yes I realize I am supposed to use my left arm, what can I say, excitement got the best of me.

Let me take a moment to reassert my allegiance to democracy and capitalism. My fascination with communism is mostly in jest, I mean there is almost an identical photo of Homer Simpson in that pose which is where I got the idea.

But this kind of brings me to the point of this post. Since my trip to Russia I have continued my strange fascination and have a few items as a result of it, like this flask.

But now that I am living in Finland, there has been some new light shed onto this interest. For example my grandma hates this shirt.

And understandably so, Finns have a different relationship with the Russians than some dumb ass kid who grew up under palm trees in Suburbia, California in the '90s. I had to keep hidden from her that I voted the for leftist party (mostly because of their business tax policies) as she is from one of the former White Army strongholds, and it's considered bad form to appear like a Soviet sympathizer in front of grandma. That and some nonsense about how the Vasemmistoliitto tried to kill my late grandpa, a story that I never quite got to the bottom of no matter how much I probed.

But now there is some notion that perhaps I ought to have a tad more sensitivity regarding these issues because of what part of the world I currently reside in. Now I know Estonians and Hungarians and Czechs and even a Russian or two, many of who were old enough to remember what life was like behind the Iron Curtain and perhaps I could understand why someone might think this t-shirt is borderline offensive, or just that it could surface some unpleasant memories.

At work I know a Finn who's father did business in Moscow, and as a result, lived in one of the westerner enclaves, and a Hungarian woman. They were more than happy to regale me with stories while I sat riveted and awestruck. Like the one about how the Finnish family discovered that they were being surveilled via the "complimentary" AM/FM radio when due to a crossed wire it started to send audio signals the other way allowing them to listen to the control room, confirming what they already knew. They grew so annoyed with the noise that they broke the radio. And then without even notifying maintenance, a fix-it crew came up and fixed the radio. Now that is what I call service.

The Hungarian told me horror stories about how her parents could never talk about the State in front of the children for fear that word would accidently spread on the playground. I had heard stories from books and TV that you couldn't trust your neighbors, that even hesitating when answering certain questions was grounds for getting reported on, but to hear these stories from first hand accounts was something way different. Putting a face to the afflicted rather than just reading some 3rd hand account of a 3rd hand account and then turning on the TV to see what new antics The Simpsons were up to.

I find these stories so very interesting and frankly quite important. It reminds me that I really was very lucky with where I grew up, and honestly after hearing some of these harrowing accounts I can't help but roll my eyes when people complain about tight TSA screening policies. Yeah, yeah, yeah slippery slope, blah, blah, blah.

I still don't think that sporting this shirt is quite the same as goose stepping into synagogue with a Nazi armband, but these stories certainly have caused me to think twice about when and where I wear it.

But, and I am not sure this offers any solace, there is another way to look at it. Just ponder the fact that the hammer and sickle is being pasted onto shirts and stickers and the like. It's capitalism. There is a market and there is a product, so if anything, the fact that there is a McDonalds 250 meters from Lenin's body and the fact that I am wearing this shirt now is just proof of who won that ideological battle. Sure China is a looming giant, but that's another story altogether. My point is that the wearing of this shirt is not condoning communism or Stalin's murder of millions of people or Russia's taking of Karelia, it's just an attempt to be in on the joke with the rest of the Simpons writers. (That and it is a pretty cool symbol!)

Still the most fascinating thing about life behind the Iron Curtain is that, in the words of Dr. Ian Malcom, "Life Finds A Way". Amongst all of this oppression there is no stopping people from being people and I don't know how they did it but there was some pretty mean music coming out of there that never saw the light of day, but that I would wager could hold its own against the western pop song counterparts of that time. Here to play us out is one such group, Estonia's Väntorel with their not-so-hit, Julgus.

From Turku With Love

2011-09-13T22:52:00.000-07:00

It took me two years (three if you count that year in Tampere in 2006) of living in Finland, but I finally made it to Turku. It was one of those destinations that was so easy to get to that it was too easy to put off and time after time I found excuses not to go. But I made it, and while I wouldn't mind going again some time, I can at least check it off the "to do" list. I had travelled through Turku several times, but I don't count those. And honestly, I really, really wanted to add Turku to my Tripadvisor "Cities I've Visited" app on facebook.

It all started when a fellow Finngelino stopped off in Finland for a few weeks while moving from the Ukraine to France. Both of us had expressed interest in spending some time in Turku and plans for a day trip were tentatively made. Busy schedules and apathy threatened to sideline the plans but then it happened, last Saturday we hoisted ourselves out of bed and caught a train to the third and final member of the Suomen Kaupunki Kolmio (Finnish Triangle of Cities).

The only plans for the day were to visit Turunlinna and walk around the down town area, to both of which I can say mission accomplished!

Turunlinna was pretty nice, though not the most impressive castle in Finland. I kind of like the look of Olavinlinna (Savonlinna) better and Suomenlinna has more crevices in which you can climb. There was a museum on the inside dedicated to the history of the Turku/Åbo area complete with topless blonde mannequins.

The weather was nice, despite what this temperature reads here. We ended up splurging on some hamburgers on the walk back from the castle to town and frankly, when compared to Finnish standards, these were damn fine burgers. I ordered the two patty "deluxe burger" from the restaurant Kerttu and it arrived like two open faced hamburgers which made it seem well worth the price. No regrets.

We walked around admiring the evidence of urban life, like this stenciled cat art, both of us avid fans of everything feline.

We bought sokeriherneet from the kauppatori which seemed a tad more hoity-toity than the ones I am used to Helsinki. Perhaps it was a special occasion. But the two of us ate all 3 liters of the peas next to the Aura river.

The last few hours were spent in the park with some pussikalja soaking up the last few rays of the day and, well, the summer. I had this very strange feeling in Turku. I had lived in Tampere and currently live in Helsinki but I was completely unfamiliar with what Turku had to offer. And being in, what is in Finland, a large urban area that was unfamiliar gave me the distinct feeling that I was abroad. Sitting in that park, I felt like I was back in Stockholm. The park we were drinking in was on a hill next to an old cathedral type structure looking over the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, much like the one I was enjoying brews in in the Södermalm district of Stockholm.

When I was applying to masters' programs I applied to and was accepted into both Helsinki and Turku Universities. I knew Helsinki and always thought it may be nice to live there for a little while, but Turku had mystery going for it. It had the underdog appeal. In 2006 I lived in Tampere more or less on a whim. I needed to do my national service and decided "I've never been to Tampere, I'll go live there". And I ended up having a pretty good time. I had heard good things about Turku and there was no reason to think that I wouldn't have a pleasurable experience there as well.

Ultimately it was the pre-existing social network and the fact that I had deemed the degree from Helsinki as more valuable that led to my final decision. But as I walked along the Aura river, through downtown Turku and sat drinking in its parks, I couldn't help but wonder what my life would have been like had the decision gone the other way.

I don't see any connection to Vietnam, Walter.

2011-08-27T02:30:00.000-07:00

Deep in the heart of Helsinki's Alppila district is a guerilla warfare urban battle ground where only the strong survive and the early bird catches the proverbial worm. The cunning can leave with treasures the likes of which yee have never seen, but the weak will leave with a hunk of junk and an empty wallet, or no wallet at all (beware of pickpockets!). You know how the saying goes, "One man's trash is that same man's opportunity to gouge an unsuspecting victim by overstating it's value". I think that's how it goes.

Well anyway, I can only be talking about the Valtteri flea market. As far as I know it is the biggest flea market in Helsinki and as long as I can muster the energy to get my ass out of bed early enough on a Saturday or Sunday it is a pretty fun place to go, if not to buy, just to see trinkets of years past and a bunch of other cheap crap. It's like a Salvation Army, but on steroids.

Over the years I have been a couple of times, mostly out of curiosity, but I end up buying something just as a cheap souvenir to remember that yes, I was able to get out of bed before 9:30 am on a Saturday!

Here's a look at some of the treasures I have found!

Finland is well known for it's fabric patterns. But when I needed a table cloth I was happy I found one for cheap at Valtteri. It's not official Marimekko, but close enough. I was ensured by the seller that it was from the 1960's. I doubt it's authenticity, but hey! What looks good, looks good!

Finland as given me a new found interest in games where things are thrown at other things in some sort of outdoor setting. For example Mölkky and this extremely heavy game, Pétanque. Found this and talked her down from 5 euros to 3 euros!

Then there is this treasure, nothing says "Finngelino" better than this chunk of Americana. It is like this was made for me. It's a stuffed Sam the Olympic Eagle, the mascot for the 1984 Los Angeles summer Olympic games that says "Kultaa Suomelle 1984". Finland, Los Angeles and a year that has personal significance to me? 2 euros, man what a find.

Like I said, usually when I go to Valtteri, it's just to peruse. But this morning I went on a mission. I wanted/needed a camera tripod. My option was to either find a used one or buy the cheapest crap one from Anttila, the Target of Finland. After going to 6 different used crap stores yesterday to no avail, I decided to try my luck at Valtteri before heading off to Target.

I found one tripod that was missing a piece, but the kind man at the booth informed that it wasn't actually missing a piece. I again insisted that it was, and he said "no". I said thank you and walked away. I thought all hope was lost, but I quickly scanned all the aisles one more time and I found a booth that had 3 tripods. One was basically the exact same model as the cheapest one at Anttila, one was missing the same camera mounting piece as the earlier one, and one looked a little more heavy duty than the cheapo one. So I examined both of them, saw if my camera fit the mounting and if all the knobs and handles worked they way they were supposed to. Do I go super cheap or do I go reasonably cheap?

"This is original, see it from West Germany", he said.

Inner monologue: Why would I need an "original" tripod

"That one made in China, no good"

Well that is probably a valid selling point

I offered 15 euros less than his asking price, he bumped my offer up 5 euros. I thought about it for a good minute and accepted. I know nothing about cameras and tripods and such, but at the very least I got a tripod and it is pretty cool/vintage looking, and I didn't really spend that much money, well within the already pitifully low budget I had set aside.

It is a Linhof brand tripod, and judging from it's internet and historical reputation, I might of gotten out of the jungle with a treasure rather than a hunk of junk! Any one know anything about these types of things?

So I am pretty happy. If it turns out this is a piece of shit and you feel like raining on my parade, have mercy, do it gently.

Table For One

2011-08-25T05:22:00.000-07:00

I'm half American, genetically, which is, let's face it, half mutt. The other half is, as we all know by now, Finnish. But one could argue that since I grew up on the sunny beaches of California that whatever part of my temperament that is malleable, which is arguably a lot, is a hell of a lot more American than anything else. Sure there have always been aspects of the way that I look at life that I, and others, have felt are more Finnish, like my uninterest in elaborating on whatever neutral emotion it appears I am experiencing, but we will just forgo the whole nature vs. nurture debate for now

I was raised in America, with American TV shows, American music, American social circles and American pop culture...and, yes, for the last time, American college students really do drink out of those red plastic cups that you see in the movies. The point is that I was already pretty old when I found out that Ultra Bra is not what you Finns call the Wonder Bra.

At times this temperament has been at odds with the way things are done here. For example my 1st dive into the dating world with a Finnish girl when she, bless her soul, said, "You know, you don't need to talk the whole time". I guess silences are only awkward if you make them that way. But it's clear that American boisterousness can catch people off guard as sometimes it leads to unnecessarily escalated debates or the sending of flirtatious signals that one does not intend to send, and vice versa.

But I have been here for two years now and I can't help but think that some of this "Finnishness" has rubbed off on me. Perhaps language barriers have a lot to do with it. In the US, I am used to always playing a leading role in social conversations and gatherings. I don't want to call myself an attention hog, but some other people might. Here in Finland, regardless of how often my Finnish gets complimented, I am playing a much more secondary role in conversations and instead of having my own fully matured social circle, I have latched onto preexisting ones. As a result, perhaps I have involuntarily toned down some of the more exuberant aspects of my personality.

Sure if you get me loaded on beer and start talking politics to me in English, I am sure to launch into a devil's advocate harangue on subjects that I know nothing about, but we all do that from time to time, don't we?

But one of the most striking changes I have undergone in the last two years is how I handle being alone, which is quite a large chunk of my time. When I 1st moved here I refused to eat at the campus cafeteria unless I had company or going home was unbelievably inconvenient and, since I lived right next to the campus, going home was never really inconvenient. Something always bothered me about sitting in a crowded cafeteria full of the chattering of little cliques, while I was sitting alone with no one to talk to. It was even worse when I couldn't find my own table and was forced to listen to the inane banter (sweet beautiful inane banter, it's only inane if you aren't in on it) of freshman who hadn't yet tasted the sour grapes of real life. So I opted to, whenever I could, eat at home. In the event that I needed to grab a bite in public I always brought a news paper or a magazine, not to read, but just to stare at so that I wouldn't have to make eye contact with whatever weirdos decided to sit across from me.

Oh but the tables have turned. Now I almost prefer going to the cafeteria alone. Of course social contract sets in and when you are invited to lunch with co-workers you go. And if any of y'all are reading this, by all means invite me to lunch, you are all wonderful to dine with. My only point is that I am no longer horrified at the thought of sitting by myself in public. I don't even need the news paper anymore.

It makes me think about this one summer job that I had in the States where, even if the traveling was for personal reasons like vacation, the company printed out business etiquette info packets for every country on the itinerary. As I was headed off for my usual summer visit to Finland, I received a packet on Finland. In the packet there was a line that said, and I'm paraphrasing here, that in a business environment, Finns talk about business and that it was ill advised to engage them in small talk.

It makes so much sense. All of a sudden I would much rather be alone with my thoughts than be forced into incessant conversation out of politeness.

I mean seriously America, you don't need to talk the whole time.

Diluting My Molarity

2011-08-22T08:18:00.000-07:00

So it's been done. The mole is gone...Well, I assume it is, I still haven't removed the surgical tape, but I'm fairly sure they removed something.

Let me tell you about the operation.

The night before I went in, I was obviously still in joking around mode (see my last blog post), but the only person I was joking was myself. It didn't really hit me until bed time when I set 3 or 4 alarms and struggled to remember if there were any instructions I needed to follow. Should I have had those shots of whiskey? Can I eat breakfast? Can I drink coffee before the operation? All these questions and more oozed through my head as I was trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep. I assumed that I would have remembered if the doctor had said something like, "and under no circumstances should you ________".

Let me just preface this by saying that I do not do well with scalpels and blood and pain and needl...........whoop I fainted there for a second. Point is, I'm a bit of a wimp.

I woke up extra early so that I could prepare myself. I bathed (no one wants to be stinky for the doctor), I ate a small non-greasy breakfast and I read the news in an attempt to put something else on my mind. But stories about the stock market, Rick Perry and the Ames Straw Poll were not enough to distract me from my looming date with a scalpel. Come to think of it, getting scalpeled is actually a much more pleasant topic than those news stories. ZING!

I was actually doing fine, I didn't really start to get nervous until I boarded the Töölö bound tram, which was late adding to my growing anxiety. Jesus, I value punctuality so much that I freak out at the thought of being late to an operation that I'm not sure I want. But I sat there in the crowded tram trying to hide the fact that I was anxious by staring blankly into my mobile device, where I "read" more news.

I got to the doctors office and went to check in.

"Ahh, so you are here for some surgery", said the receptionist.

"Oh, umm minor surgery", I corrected her.

She told me to wait in the waiting room and that they would call my name, which they did, almost immediately, sparing my calf muscle from the involuntary toe tapping that was sure to accompany the intermission. I met with the doctor, the same one from last time who, in Finnish, told the nurse that she "hadn't performed that operation in a while" right in front of me. We greeted each other and had small talk in Finnish. Then I changed to English as my nerves were shot and it felt more comfortable.

The nurse prepped me, all the while, the doctor, in Finnish, knowing full well this time that I did speak enough to understand, started asking the nurse what to do in the same intonation I use when I am doing something new at work. The nurse always responded with a smile and sing-songy voice

"Oh, you just stick this in and turn it around a bit and it's so small that it should come right out, no fuss"

"Okay, and then what do I do next"

"Oh, you can then just cut off any of the straggly bits"

etc.

Needless to say, it made me nervous. Especially when she asked things mid operation. Almost as bad as hearing the doc say, "ooops".

The nurse came over with a needle and very soothingly said, "Okay this is the worst part, it's the local anesthetic". I shut my eyes and my heart began to race, but with a small pinch it was over. Then the doc came over with tools that I made a point not to look at and said very briefly, "Okay so this should not hurt at all, if you feel anything you need to speak up."

About 0.5 seconds later and with a clenched jaw, "It hurts!"

"Okay, is it bearable?"

I paused to consider that question, "Yeeeaaaah, No"

Seconds later I had another injection and, with the exception of some light-head inducing tugging, I felt nothing.

I was told to stop breathing in the manner that I was and then before I knew it she was done and I was all sewn up.

I walked out of there one less mole, but I didn't walk far, I was dizzy so I grabbed a seat in the waiting room to re-acclimate to my new life.

It's been a few days and its almost eerie how little it hurts. Every now and again there is a slight twinge or a dull throb, but other than that it's fine. And it didn't cost me one red cent, GO SOCIALIZED MEDICINE!

I'm already planning which mole I want removed next!

Goodnight Sweet Prince

2011-08-18T12:31:00.000-07:00

I know I am supposed to be covering Flow right now. But hey I've been busy, mostly covering flow for Muster Zine (some of my stories are already up, go check 'em out!). But I have to break the AWIFFF2011R coverage for just a while to talk about something very important.

Tonight is my last night with someone who has been with me for as long as I can remember. I mentioned in my blog post Guest Lecturer At Melanoma, that I had a mole that was ripe for the picking, so to speak. And tomorrow morning I must bid farewell to something that is as much a part of me as my cherry angiomas, freckles and my dozens of other moles. It's strange, I've never willingly had a part of my body removed...well I guess my wisdom teeth? Then again I was told those needed to come out by a force not to be reckoned with (my mother).

This is what I wanted isn't it? I had sought this out. I made it happen. And now it's my last night with the little guy and I don't know how to feel.

I guess we will have to celebrate by reminiscing about old times, the so called "glory days". We were young, carefree, maybe a little too stupid, maybe a little too arrogant. But we were beautiful goddamn it!

He was the best wingman whenever we tried to pick up chicks.

There was the band we were in together in college, we played to empty bars, but we didn't care.

Then there was that time that we got shit-faced on whisky together in the middle of the day after his girlfriend broke up with him.

And he drank so much that he got sick! But I was there the whole night taking care of him.

And he always knew how to make me laugh.

But what I'll remember most about him was that he was so sweet and always willing to share what he had with me.

Goodnight sweet prince, you were too beautiful for this world.

(This has to be my strangest blog post to date)

Flow 2011: Friday

2011-08-16T00:59:00.000-07:00

Hello ladies and gentlemen. Once again, I have been quieter than I would like to be, but for all of you following my twitter (@finngelino) you know that I have been busy and up to some fun, most recently, Flow Festival 2011.

To be perfectly honest, I wasn't as jazzed about this year's lineup as I was about the previous year's. Among my favorite acts were Lykke Li, who I have seen before and Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti; a fellow Angeleno who I have seen on our home turf about 5 times. Not that I was any less excited to see them, but the feeling of "needing" to see them wasn't nagging at me. Other acts that I was interested in were Hercules and Love Affair and Röyksopp but, being more on the electronic dance music side, those could go either way.

Soon Flow added another set of musicians to the line up, including Battles and The Human League. It was at this point that things changed and my reluctance to buy a ticket vanished. To find out why, you should read the piece I did for Musterzine. Oh and I should mention that I was going to be having three guests in my Helsinki flat, all festival attendees, so it only made sense for me to attend with them.

So, after an intro that was waaaaaaay too long (sorry about that) I give you the official "American Werewolf in Finland Flow Festival 2011 Review" or simply AWIFFF2011R.

FRIDAY

Friday was going to prove to be my busiest day, but because of a crucial error on the part of Flow Festival organizers we missed the 1st band on our list, French Films. Here is a question for Flow, what was the point of picking up wrist bands early if we all had to wait in the same line as the folks who didn't get wrist bands anyway? Think that one through next time. Any who, next up was About Group, a side project for Hot Chip front man Alexis Taylor. It started off with a cacophony of noise but ended up mellowing out into some pretty interesting music.

Next I went to go see The Budos Band. I heard one song of theirs on the internet and decided that I needed to go see them. I didn't really know anything about them other than that they were going to be playing some mean Afro-Rhythms. But I will admit that I was pretty surprised when they walked out on stage. Instead of, well, a bunch of Africans, it was a bunch of white dudes from Staten Island, NY. It didn't make the music any less fun to dance to, in fact it was pretty good, but I couldn't help but crack a few jokes about how white people are still stealing black people music, I mean...it's true. The best part of their set was the awesome bassist who held his bass in a really cool way and just owned it. Or maybe it was the guy who was just playing the beaded gourd but when looking at his face you would think he was shredding better than Hendrix.

Photo by Emilia Brock

Next up was Warpaint. I have never fallen in love quicker, with the music and the guitarist, RAWR! Warpaint is a girl group (a sexy girl group) from Los Angeles, and I wondered how I had never heard of them before. But I went in with zero expectations and came out with the feeling that I need to keep an eye on this band. They were one of the best surprises of the festival.

All Warpaint photos by Emilia Brock

Next was Hercules and Love Affair. I was curious to see how this would turn out. As I said, electronic music can go either way, and the crowd plays a rather large role in making the show happen. Their debut album was awesome, but since then their music as been kind of meh. But, the most disappointing songs were actually the songs from that album, and they weren't disappointing at all. The singers had the impossible task of mimicking the voice of Antony Hegarty, voice of Antony and the Johnsons, and they did a pretty damn good job. It was a gay old time. No, seriously, Flow had rated Hercules has the most gay friendly artists of the festival.

All Hercules & Love Affair photos by Emilia Brock

We ran over to the crowded main stage to check out what Röyksopp had to offer. We were pretty unimpressed to tell you the truth. Bad sound and open air do not do this group any favors. It didn't take too long for us to decide that it was a pass and we left.

Then it was off to the Nokia Blue tent to see Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti. I have a love/hate relationship with this group. I have had mixed feelings about them when I was seeing them on their home turf. Their performances seem to range from "hey that was pretty good" to fucking horrible, depending on what songs from their endless catalogue they play and how cooperative Ariel wants to be. I've seen them when it seems like a vagrant has wandered on the stage during the set of a band that only plays instrumentals. But these were all pre-Before Today, their official album. So I was curious. It is difficult to say why. Maybe Ariel wasn't on LSD, or maybe he just took the right dose, or perhaps he has gotten his shit together since the album came out, or maybe LA is just his test audience. In any case, they killed that night. It was so good and the crowd erupted in pleasure and sang along to his hit song "Round and Round".

All Ariel Pink photos by Emilia Brock

It was fantastic and I was drunk. Flow was off to a great start.

***For more great Flow 2011 coverage be sure to check out Muster Zine. More writing from me and other talented young writers whom I had the pleasure of attending Flow 2011 with. In fact, my 1st review is already up, it's more about about my new found infatuation with Warpaint.

Veijo Rönkkönen's Sculpture Park

2011-07-31T09:25:00.000-07:00

I am weird and I like weird things. So when my friend Diana told me about a creepy location in Eastern Finland, my interest was perked. She was talking about the sculpture park of Veijo Rönkkönen in Parikkala, Finland, 1 km from the Russian border. Since Diana and five of our closest friends were popping out to Helsinki for a visit, we decided to take a day trip to one of the strangest displays of art in Finland, and arguably the world. Here is a short video I made summarizing the trip and also some still shots I took on my camera. ENJOY!

Me with what I think is a self portrait.

The American Invasion

2011-07-29T05:37:00.001-07:00

Folks, I know I have been quiet lately. But it has been with good reason. Today marks the first day in three weeks that I have been alone. With visits from the likes of my brother, a week in Stockholm, Sweden meeting up with long lost friends from that far off land known as California, and the subsequent week playing Helsinki tour guide for six Americans, I have had my hands pretty full.

But since the last Ameri-friend left early this morning and I have had no human contact except for the lady who asked how long I needed the communal washing machine for, I have had some time to contemplate the events of the last three weeks, and even more so being surrounded by some of my favorite people in the world.

It all started a few months ago when a couple of my friends, I assume drunkenly, planted the seed for a summer visit to Helsinki to see their favorite Tuomas in the world. Through the various stages of planning it was agreed that we would all meet in Stockholm, a place I had been eager to spend some real time in and a way for the USA travelers to cross another city off their lists. They were flying stand-by during a busy tourist season and some of them were delayed a day, or re-routed via Copenhagen. So my first night in Sweden I was actually Americanless, but I contacted my Swedish friend and we went to see Japanese jet rockers, Guitar Wolf at Debaser, a Stockholm rock fixture.

Slowly but surely the Americans began to trickle in and with the arrival of each person, copious celebratory beers were drunk, an act that was as much commemorating their arrival as it was an attempt to stave off the looming jet lag that each transatlantic passenger was sure to succumb to. Sometimes partying is the best remedy.

My favorite day in Stockholm was not visiting the Vasa museum or wandering the narrow streets of Gamla Stan, it was the group picnic on one of the less populated islands belonging to the Stockholm archipelago, with a view of a boating channel and small beach we could swim at.

And the best thing about good friends is that you can act like complete dorks with each other and not care what anyone else thinks.

Then it was time to put on our sea legs and set sail for Helsinki aboard the infamous booze cruises known for their endless supply of alcohol and cougar women looking for young drunk sea-men (bad joke).

Not that I am into this booze cruise scene, but I have to admit I was pretty disappointed with the turn out after being warned over and over again about the drunkenness we would encounter. In the end, the drunkest people on the ship were these seven american assholes and the dance floor was more or less empty. I am going to choose not to reminisce about the events of that night, not that anything bad happened. Just I was drunker than I care to be or think about.

The arrival to Helsinki the next morning was a rough one. The Saharan sun was paying a visit to this Nordic city and all of us, groggy from the lack of sleep and booze bingeing, had to march from the port to the train station, luggage in tow, because the tram stop was out of order. We made it to my pad, all of us wondering how my tiny one room apartment was going to sleep seven adults. Finally, we settled in and went out to visit Suomenlinna where we all crashed on the grass and slept for ? hours.

The next day was filled with some touristy stuff which included the National Museum, a place I had never been to, and drinks at Torni, the tallest bar in Helsinki. Then we bought a bunch of pussikalja (bagged beer) and brought it to Bermuda, a temporary concert space on the remote docks of Kalasatama, to see my friend's band Äänijännite play. It was actually pretty awesome.

We ventured back into town and were unintentionally separated from each other when the longer legged/fast walkers turned a corner and realized that the others had not been able to keep up, a phenomena that was, among us fast walkers, known as the "Gel Electrophoresis Effect". Me being the neurotic son of a bitch that I am insisted that we head back home hoping that the others were already there or could at least find their way home. After about an hour or so and some tweeting between the two groups, I was able to persuade them to take a cab home. No way I could have slept that night knowing that helpless Americans were wandering the dangerous streets of Kallio.

The next day was spent BBQing at the water near my house, giving my friends a pseudo look at what being in the country side might be like because our mökki plans fell by the wayside. But, pristine calm lakes, outdoor grilling and a plethora of bloodsucking insects was enough to appease them.

The next day we rented a minibus and drove out to see a sight that has been called the "strangest place in Finland". A creepy sculpture garden in Eastern Finland about four hours from Helsinki and within spitting distance of the Russian border. Veijo Rönkkönen spent fifty years sculpting statue after statue and the result is something that I think is well worth a visit and capable of giving anyone the heebee-jeebees. More than 500 statues in this garden, many of which contained real human teeth, which only begs the question, where the hell did he get so many sets of human teeth?

On the way back we stopped off at Punkaharju and Savonlinna.

The time had come for people to start trickling out of Finland and eventually back to the USA. On the last full day in Finland, we rented bikes and did a crash course in Helsinki tourism with visits to Temppelaukio Kirkko, The Sibelius Monument, Tuomiokirkko, Upenski Cathedral and Hietalahti Beach.

Group A left, and the remaining four of us got lunch at the Soppa Keittiö which is rapidly becoming my favorite place to eat here in Helsinki. Our previous attempts at eating reindeer had been thwarted but, low and behold, one of the three soup options was blackroot and smoked reindeer soup. It was pretty good. Pretty, pretty, pretty good.

Lunch was followed by the "Magic of Lapland" exhibit at the Ataneum, which was surprisingly good. A collection of works, new and old, about artists' perceptions of Lapland. Even the exhibition smelled like bug spray, it made me chuckle, until I realized that it was probably just that the gallery had been freshly painted. The best works were by a guy named Reidar Särestöniemi (pronounced Radar? fucking awesome name). He had Ralph Steadman-esque drawings of mosquitoes and crane-flies.

Group B left and the remaining two of us went back to Suomenlinna to taste the over priced beers at the Suomenlinna microbrewery, something I have been meaning to do for months. The beer was good, but the price and the 20 minute ferry ride makes this a one time thing. We wandered the streets of Helsinki and went to see Neon Indian at YK before returning home so that the final visitor could pack his belongings and plan his voyage home.

That brings me here. I've cleaned the grime and stink of 7 people, collected the stray beer cans, put the mattresses off in the corner and done copious amounts of laundry and my apartment is starting to look like it wasn't just the location of a dirty sex party that was tragically hit by a tornado. I can walk around without tracking dirt all over the place and I'm not being overcome with questions about what this or that means. Dinner now means a modest clean up instead of using every dish in the house. I can sleep, I can watch TV, I can detox, I can just be without rushing people all over the place to see this or that attraction.

And I'd happily give all of that up for just one more night.

Ass Cabbage

2011-07-02T03:40:00.001-07:00

It's amazing that I have gotten this far in writing this blog without telling you my local nickname (lempinimi), "Ass Cabbage", and how I got it.

It all happened during last year's Juhannus. I was discussing the evening's dinner with the resident cook, which would come with a side of broccoli. In Finnish, the word for broccoli is "parsakaalia". But that is not what I heard. Perhaps people know what's coming next. What I heard was "perse kaalia", "perse" meaning "ass" and "kaalia" meaning "cabbage". Fairly straight forward story. But now whenever anyone says "Ass Cabbage" they are referring to me.

I guess it serves me right for calling my friend Jarkko "Jerko". But hey, these are just terms of endearment, right?

Is it just me or does the maturity level of this blog fluctuate violently?

This is just another one to add to the list of misheard sentences.

Parsakaalia - Perse Kaalia

Eines (spelling?) - Anus

Etana - Etänä (shout out to telefinn and his blog Finnish From Afar)

I am sure there are a ton more, but now none come to mind. If you've got stories feel free to share.

These Photos Weren't On My Camera Yesterday?!

2011-06-19T05:08:00.000-07:00

So last night I went out for a night on the town, as is the style in this part of the world. Drinks were had, intoxication was reached and somehow I made it home. When I awoke this morning I had a vague recollection of snapping some photos so I went and took a look.

Weird thing about Finland in the summer is that you go out and when the bars close, the sun is already rising. Can you believe that this is in the field right next to my apartment!

I'm sorry, I guess you were expecting drunken debauchery.

I Was There

2011-06-18T08:04:00.000-07:00

Found this postcard today at Akateeminen Kirjakauppa. Says it was taken in 2011. Must be the party at Kauppatori after Finland beat Sweden in that hockey thingy a month or so ago.

Sure it's no flag raising at Iwo Jima, but I was totally there maaaaaaan.

Guest Lecturer at Melanoma

2011-06-15T11:07:00.000-07:00

So I have this mole on my arm. Many Finns have many moles, it's quite common. On a scale of 1 - 10, 1 being moleless and 10 being "HOLY MOLEY!", I'm probably somewhere near a 4, maybe a 5...I guess? Maybe even less, kind of hard to judge, not really paying attention. And, as much as I don't want to admit it, as far as naked bodies are concerned, I probably don't have that large of a sample size.

But one mole in particular has garnered a lot of attention, relative to my other moles. Two people who don't know each other have commented on it suggesting that perhaps I should have it checked out or, at the very least, keep an eye on it. One being a year or two ago and the other being within the past three months.

It's located on my upper left arm just below where the sleeve of a t-shirt would end. Because I spent most of my time living in Southern California this mole in particular has received a disproportionate amount of sun light, being right next to the driver's side window where, due to the lack of reasonable public transportation, it could sit basking in the sun's toxic rays for hours on end while I'm stuck idling in traffic on the 110.

Until the first person said something, I paid it absolutely no attention. Just another small dot on an otherwise stunning example of the human form. But as soon as it was mentioned I spiraled deep into a neurotic hypochondria fueled fit, as is quite normal for me (perhaps I should get that checked out). But after speaking to a different friend well rehearsed in the art of having moles removed who laughed when I asked what she thought, my neurotic shock was replaced with a more manageable anxiety. One that was always there, but was on an equal playing field as my other banal anxieties; thinking I have Celiac's disease, Lou Gehrig's disease, thinking everyone is out to get me and being worried that my boss hates me.

Since then doctors have thwarted my attempts to discuss it on unrelated doctor's check-ups saying we were out of time.

"Just tell me if it looks bad enough to schedule another appointment to have it looked at closer", I would say and then only receive a very rushed, "It looks fine, yeah whatever" and a flutter of a white lab coat as a response. Not really an answer that one can put a lot of confidence in.

Then just a little while ago another person made a comment in passing, so I decided to make an appointment exclusively for this mole. This mole would have a whole 15 minutes to shine in the non-carcinogenic attention of a Doct...excuse me, a nurse.

Now, while I am usually pretty modest, I do speak Finnish fairly well. But when I am dealing with important issues; my health, finances, police, school bureaucracy, I like to use English, just to make sure I fully understand the situation. So I made my appointment in English and I was immediately greeted by the nurse in English when I arrived (must have been on my file). She took a look and said that it looked fine. Then she got a doctor and told the doctor to speak to me in English. The doctor said it looked fine. But they added that, while there is nothing to worry about, it's so small that removing it would be a piece of piss (not their exact words).

Then, right in front of me, they switched to Finnish and began discussing logistics amongst themselves. Here is pretty much a summary of what was said.

Doctor: "Well we could just schedule an appointment, it would be pretty quick"

Nurse:"Can it be done here?"

D:"Yeah, we could do it here"

N:"Would you like to do it?"

D:"Yeah, I haven't done anything like that for a while and it would be nice to do it again, been mostly on the computer these days"

*My eyes widen and I begin listening very intently*

N:"Would you do it in your office?"

D:"Nah, we could but let's use one of the proper rooms upstairs where we have all the equipment, oh and try to make it as early as possible, good to get it out of the way in the morning"

N:"How long does it take?"

D:" About 20 minutes"

I haven't done anything like that for a while!&$^!&$!!!@#!@!#!$! she says. Clearly assumed that I had no idea what was being said.

Not okay to say in front of the patient even if you are speaking Swahili and the patient is deaf.

And don't worry folks, I have been assured that this is merely a "peace of mind" operation (something that someone like me could clearly use). Just a simple 20 minute in-out procedure by an apparently out-of-practice doctor.

Now to overcome my fear of scalpels, needles and cauterizing guns!

Carnitas De Mi Corazón

2011-06-02T01:36:00.000-07:00

One of the main drawbacks of living in Finland, if not the main one, is the lack of any real decent Mexican food. Growing up in El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles del rio de Porciúncula (Los Angeles) I was accustomed to having a taco shop on every corner. Mexican food was, for better or worse, a main staple of my diet. It's quick, cheap and oh so delicious. It was the best thing to eat for any meal, whether it's a couple of tacos for lunch, a burrito for dinner or huevos rancheros for breakfast.

Not every taco stand in the LA area is the "best" Mexican food around, but one thing is for sure, the worst place in LA is worlds better than any of the usual places in Helsinki. Too many times I have gotten delusional (once) and thought that maybe this enchilada from Iguana might in someway resemble something like I might get back in LA. It did not.

So for the longest time my credo has been that "the best Mexican food in Helsinki is the food I cook in my own kitchen". And I have gotten pretty good at making it to my standards, with the help of imported spices that I require my New World visitors to bring with them.

This here is my favorite breakfast dish ever; huevos rancheros. It is of course different from what you would get in LA. Usually they use corn tortillas but due to practicality I use these flour tortillas. But fried eggs on a bed of black beans with cheese, avocado and selection of my taco sauces from my hot-sauce contraband shelf. Sprinkle some fresh cilantro on top and violá! Es una comida mucho delicioso y ahuyentar a los blues de la resaca.

But how does this help you? You could ask me to cook something for you, potato tacos or the above, something that I would be happy to do (you bring the beers, Pacifico please, none of this Corona bullshit). If you are interested just holla.

Or you could go to Café De Nopal on Lönnrotinkatu, right near Ruttopuisto. I heard about this place at the beginning of the year right when it opened. My Finnish friends, sick of my constant complaining about the shitty Mexican food, informed me immediately when they heard about it. But, in the wild this Café de Nopal was extremely hard to tame. The 1st time I went, it was closed...at 11:45 am on a weekday. I feared that it had been closed forever. The second time I went there was an hour and a half wait for the food, and we had a tight schedule. The third time I went they had "run out of food". Ay dios mio! Que Lastima!

Last weekend there was a world fair in down town and as I was perusing the booths I found a Café de Nopal booth manned by full Spanish speaking Mexicans(?)! So I got two tacos; a beef picadillo and a carnitas. For the vegetarians they had chile relleno tacos, something that thought long and hard about getting too.

The beef picadillo was so-so, something that I think I could cook pretty easily in my own kitchen. But the carnitas was surprisingly good. Not the best tacos I have ever had, but they will certainly do the trick in a pinch. And Helsinki is nothing but a big pinch when it comes to Mexican food. I still want to eat in the real restaurant, I assume it would be a bit better than in the remote festival booth. But I just need to tame the restaurant long enough to allow me to sit in it.

The major problem with this place is the price. At 2.50 euro a taco this is not a place where you can stop and load up on cheap food to explosive levels for a femma. A hungry man could easily scarf 4 of these and still have room for a couple pints of beer. Hopefully this price was only festival pricing for that day. But I will have to assume that it won't be.

My dad thinks that a late night taco stand would clean up here in Helsinki. If I had a nickel for every time I got a burrito on my way home from the bars in LA, I would have a shit load of nickels. Beats the late night kebab any day of the week. But for now Helsinki will have to be content with this, a mexican food place with sushi-style stuffing potential and less than convenient operating hours.

On the bright side not having the late night burrito stand is probably helping me keep the weight off.

A Jussipaita For Every Season

2011-05-27T06:09:00.000-07:00

My fascination with the "Jussipaita" or "Jussi Shirt" started shortly before last Christmas when my mom instructed me to look around Helsinki for one to get as a gift for my non-Finn dad; a move that was either to take on the local Norwegian community in Hansville or a way for my mother to mark her territory. I was told it was a Finnish staple and any self respecting Finn must know what it is. Much to my surprise, the employees at Stockmanns in down town Helsinki gave me nothing but blank stares when I said "Jussipaita". Eventually, my mom did some investigating and found a website and had one ordered and shipped to my house. Little did I know, she had purchased one for me too. Her reasoning was simple..."If you wear a Jussipaita, you won't get beaten up for not being Finnish anymore!"

The Jussipaita is a sweater that is typical in the Etelä-Pohjanmaa region (that means southern-north land!?) of Finland and it is symbolic of "sisu", a Finnish form of having moxie. Etelä-Pohjanmaa is sometimes known as the Texas of Finland or the Arkansas of Finland and someone once told me that it was the "bible-belt" of Finland. It also happens to be where my family is from.

Since last Christmas I have amassed quite a Jussipaita collection and I am now prepared for any situation.

The Jussipaita cardigan in brick red. This is what I wear when it's a bit warmer and I am feeling feisty.

"Saucer of milk for two...Meow!"

The traditional sweater Jussipaita in midnight blue. I wear this when it's a bit colder and I want to remain mysterious or present myself as wistful.

"I'll only remain a stranger as long as it takes you to ask my name" *wink*

And finally my Jussipaita t-shirt. For the more casual events. I wear this when I'm feeling playful and don't mind getting a little bit dirty.

"Sure it's two hand touch football, but I wouldn't mind if you tackled me!"

Must give a shout out to this guy's blog, which I used as my source. It may be of some interest to some of you Finnophiles out there.

Vacation vs. Vocation

2011-05-24T01:56:00.000-07:00

The bullet train of real life is rushing towards me at an alarming rate and I am still working on untying the knots that keep me bound to the tracks. By the time I finally break free, which will be no doubt by the skin of my teeth, I will have already needed to decide on which side of the tracks I will jump to escape being smooshed. And, there is no way to know whether my landing will be a soft comfortable grassy one or a hard painful one full of jagged rocks and briar patches. Realistically, it will be crab grass.

Frankly, there are many things to consider, and whatever the answer is, I am sure it will be a convoluted decision taking into account practicality, emotion, weather, mexican food, benefits, salary, job options, social possibilities, potential for creativity, material possessions, entomology etc. Then again, I am pretty electric...and by that I mean I usually follow the path of least resistance (okay, bad joke).

But every now and again I come across an article that seems like it was written for me. I just read a story called Why Is America the 'No Vacation Nation' and I can already feel the knots in my back tighten up with stress. Obviously, the benefits in Europe, and even more so in the Nordic countries, are better than in the States, everyone knows that. But it is a bit more penetrating when it is in front of you written in plain English.

"Workers in the US usually get two weeks of vacation a year" as compared to the four in Germany and the guaranteed "six weeks of time off" in Finland. Goddam...six!

Throw in the other benefits of Finland; healthcare, free education, insane maternity/paternity leave, etc. and Finland makes a pretty good argument, one that may even be worth the elk bot flies. It seems that here in Finland, you are pretty much taken care of no matter what. Even if you are a drunkard and given chance after chance of turning your life around and still you are passed out on the sidewalk in the middle of a weekday (It's a good thing I am not making policy decisions).

According to the article, Americans are happier when they are working because they associate hard work and success while Europeans don't necessarily have the same association. This adds credence to what my brother used to say, that "Americans live to work and Finns work to live".

The article cites studies that say that this workoholism in the US does not translate to a more competitive advantage because countries like Sweden trounce the US. I don't know much about that. I am not sure that economic competitiveness tells us much on a macro-scale, there are a lot of people dragging their feet in the USA to pull down that number. So I would need to see more data, but what I can tell you is that, regardless of overall performance, the U.S. definitely has a more competitive atmosphere than here in Finland. It's not that Finns don't work hard or that they take a relaxed attitude towards work, it's just that, in my experience, they don't see life as being a zero sum game. Just look at American politics, your opponent's faults are just as important as your qualifications, if not more so.

But, you can't argue that there aren't other ways to look at this. While I was in Berlin a few weeks ago, I got into many conversations with my host, an NYU graduate now studying at Berlin's Humboldt University, and her attitude is that the competitiveness in the US is something to be desired. Her argument being that, at least in her field, the quality of research coming from the US is exponentially better due to the competitiveness, as people, for the sake of their careers, want to put their best foot forward. She also said that she believed that this effect was exacerbated in particularly Berlin, due to the strong Socialist movements that it is known for. However, I do see it to some extent here in Finland too as students will often take their time finishing their studies. As far as academia is concerned, I think she is 100% right. When you pay $20,000+ a year for school, you don't muck about taking 7 years to earn a B.A., but why rush and join the work force when you can suckle and government's teet. I am inclined to agree that, more often than not, if you want to be an A-player, the US is the place to go.

It is impossible to paint an entire country, or even a city, with only one brush and I despise it when people try to. But, the social safety net does create an environment that reduces the risks of failure, which is a good thing. In the US where the risks of failure are arguably greater, it is only logical that people may be more competitive when it comes to their working life. And things in the US are unlikely to change because if anyone tries to pass a bill that mandates an increase in paid vacation, the Republicans will sound their battle cry of "it hurts business", because in the US, business is sacrosanct, the holiest of holies.

Where do I fit-in in all of this? Once again, ensuring that my life is as difficult as possible my mind is telling me that the jury is still out. No question, six weeks of paid vacation sounds delicious, but, at the same time, I keep getting the message from my peers that I ought to maximize my government teet suckling, a prospect that sounds as desirable as it does morally reprehensible. So you can't tell me that there isn't a sense of "oh, fuck it, the government will take care of me" here. Anyhow, success and passion, no matter how you define them, are a lot more attractive than welfare. But it is important to note that a good social safety net and success are not mutual exclusive.

In the end it is probably just a matter of the person. Some people will flourish in the competitive environment in the States and others will be much happier in a place like Finland, where I believe that quotidian worries are reduced but sometimes at the expense of motivation.

And I, as always, will remain as undecided as I have ever been. I guess that's what makes me so electric.

BERLIN:REVISITED

2011-05-22T03:50:00.000-07:00

You saw the trailer and, finally, AWIF is proud to present BERLIN:REVISTED. It chronicles my recent trip to Berlin with my sister and is somewhat of a sequel to the video about the last trip I made there a year and change prior.

Basically, it's a cheesey travel film set to good music. It's about 15 minutes, I hope you enjoy it!

Let The Scandal Begin

2011-05-18T01:15:00.000-07:00

It is a celebratory time here in Finland. People are back at work but there is still the glint of excitement from the weekend's stunning victory over Sweden. Everyone in Finland is holding their heads high. Well almost everyone.

Apparently some people are concerned with the star hockey team's drinking during the gold medal celebration on monday where many of the players ..."appeared to be heavily inebriated". Well duh...they just beat Sweden and took home the gold after 16 years of losing. Can you blame them?

But, in the words of Helen Lovejoy..."Won't somebody think of the children." Yeah, so the issue is about children watching their heros drink themselves stupid. Never mind Mom and Dad at your cousin's wedding last year. We are concerned with these guys celebrating victory.

"You won the gold! Congrats! Here is your non-alcoholic champagne, have fun, oh, and remember bed time at 10"

This is one parade I didn't think would get rained on. Seriously, I expect this in the U.S.A. but not here. I understand that children look up to sports stars and these athletes can be, in some senses, role models. But celebrating a little too hard (along with the entire country) when you achieve the highest honor is a little bit different than pumping yourself up with steroids just so you can hit more home runs. One is clearly over indulging in the way that we all do and the other is condoning cheating as a means to stay competitive.

In Finland, hockey players are already not allowed to chew tobacco or drink during "game or practice situations". So, clearly this has already been addressed. Not to mention the Nanny State alcohol laws already in place in this country.

Parents, if your kid grows up to be a booze hound, I put a hell of a lot more blame in you than in Mikael Granlund being drunk on the day after he took home the gold. I mean can anyone who scores a goal as beautiful as that be evil? We need to give the parents more responsibility and, frankly, give our children more credit. If I did everything that the musicians I idolize did, then I would probably be a heroin junky. Thankfully, most likely due to being raised well, I can tell the difference between an act of creativity and an act used to unwind after said creativity has been displayed.

And lets get serious, if there is anything I wouldn't want my hypothetical children to see, it's 100,000 drunk people peeing all over the place in broad daylight, whether "role-models" or not.

note: Not sure how big of a deal this particular incident is, but it made the newspaper, and the English newspaper at that. But, we've seen it all before, haven't we?

The Sweet Taste Of Victory

2011-05-17T02:03:00.000-07:00

So Finland won. The game started off pretty slow with not much happening in the 1st period. And then Sweden scored the first goal and it filled the room with a dark cloud as if it was an omen of things to come. But then, miraculously, Finland came back and trounced Sweden with a 6-1 victory, blowing the minds of an entire country. I even overheard someone saying, in Finnish, "This is unbelievable, Finland never plays this well".

Then the celebration started. The streets were buzzing with screams, waving flags and car horns, while I was way past the buzzing stage and just completely intoxicated. Unfortunately we were out in Kallio. From what I am told, in down town people were jumping into city fountains and there was just generally more action.

On Monday, Finland would welcome its hero team back from Slovakia where the official, government sanctioned party would begin. I got there at around 7 pm and there were already hundreds of thousands of people gathered in and around kauppatori. I brought along my camera and, well, you know what they say...a picture is worth a thousand words.

FAN MAN!

I don't think I have ever seen more blue and white before. And the only casualties (that I know of) are the urine soaked streets of Helsinki, and my poor bike. I parked it so that I did not need to haul it through the crowds. But when I returned the front wheel was wobbly and it was covered in a sticky translucent goo. The next time Finland wins the World Championship (at regular 16 year intervals I assume) I will park my bike a little farther away from ground zero.

We Will Never Forget

2011-05-15T02:58:00.000-07:00

Finns are, stereotypically, pessimistic, depressed, obedient and awkwardly modest. Are they born that way or is it something learned, you know, the old "nature vs. nurture" question. There must be a genetic component because I grew up soaking up the Southern California sun and yet I still painfully suffer from the Finnish condition, perhaps that is why I fit in so well here. But I think nurture makes a pretty strong case too. Spending childhood winters with 5 hours of daylight and watching your national team always lose, it is hard to think that it wouldn't take its toll. Being half American, I sometimes have arrogant feelings that anything is possible, which clashes with my Finnish half, and sometimes violently so. While I was vehemently rooting for team USA in last year's World Cup, my Finnish friends were, as a result of Finland's absence, choosing favorite teams based on arbitrary selection.

But that is soccer. Finland's sport is hockey. What is worse? Not being able to root for your home country because of non-involvement or consistently watching your team lose just short of the gold. I don't watch hockey usually, but after living here, it is hard not to. I've seen it a million times. Hopeful Finns crowd into bars to support their team and are constantly disappointed. Except on one faithful night in 1995.

If you say the words "Ysi Viis" to a Finn, they will know right away what you are talking about. It means 9 5 and just like 9/11, these numbers have taken on a very important historical meaning. No longer does this reference a date, but an event...an event that changed the world.

In 1995, the Finns beat the their arch rivals, the Swedes, in Stockholm, winning the hockey world championships. A victory that earned Finland its first gold medal. It was a proud day for Finland. So proud that, according to one friend, there are annual parties where the legendary game is watched. Everyone sits watching anxiously as if they are not sure Finland will pull through this time.

Tonight, Finland has another chance. After Friday's victory over Russia, Finland secured its spot in the final match against Sweden. To quote Joe Biden, "This is a big fucking deal". I know I tweeted something to this effect earlier but, for my US readers, if translated into NBA speak, this is like game 7 L.A. Lakers vs. Boston Celtics, except it happens much less frequently.

So tonight at around 21:00, a nation will gather around its TVs and in its pubs and hold its breath in hopes that 2011 will be the new 1995.

GO FINLAND!

Cornea, Retina, Iris, Larva

2011-05-10T11:12:00.000-07:00

I am constantly reminded of the ever-looming question of where I will decide to reside permanently-ish. Do I choose Helsinki with its cobble stone streets, bike-able lay out and socialist paradise policy? Or do I choose Los Angeles with its 365 days of sun, palm trees, burgers and carnitas tacos? Or do I go for a wild card and move to Berlin, Stockholm or Copenhagen.

Well I tell you, it will be a hard choice, one that I will probably regret no matter what it ends up being, I am just like that. But I will tell you one thing for sure. Los Angeles definitely has Finland beat on the bug front. In L.A. you might run into a few cockroaches on Hollywood Blvd. or the black widows that make homes out of your out-door trash receptacles, but rarely do you come face to face with a bug that is so clearly malicious in intent. I will explain what I mean shortly.

But first, Finland does have a close connection with parasitic insects. Take this photo I took in Berlin for example.

Okay well it is hard to tell, but that is the Finnish flag and on the other side is a picture of a mosquito. These two stickers appearing on the same car is not a coincidence. The mosquito makes up part of the Finnish identity. It's not merely a nuisance, it's a part of the culture. In a bad year, a summer at the mökki can leave you as pock marked as the fry cook at your local Wendy's.

Then comes the hirvi-kärpänen, or moose fly (elk-fly), which makes a swarm of mosquitos look like a good way to spend a sunny afternoon. "Their body is flat and elastic, making removal difficult", something that I know from experience. They fly around, borough into your hair and shed their wings. Fortunately though, they are unable to lay their eggs in humans (lucky us!) so they tend to take off, but not before leaving an "itch papule" that can "persist for a year". I have heard urban legends about office meetings where a moose fly detaches from an oblivious host and crawls around the table. I've never been bitten, I was far too jumpy for them to get too far into my hair

But a friend directed me to a link, and I think this new bug takes the cake. Remember when I said "face to face"? I wasn't joking. The elk bot fly is a bumble bee resembling insect that will fly around your face and...drum roll please..."shoot larvae into [your] eyes". Apparently the bug was only common in Northern Sweden but has now been seen further south than Stockholm. And..."three similar, previously published cases took place in the late summer last year in Finland".

I kid you not. The elk bot fly is meant to shoot larvae into the nostrils of elk, where the larvae grow until they are bloodily sneezed out, but they often mistake human eyes as elk nostrils, there's a compliment for you. If you get hit it apparently feels like you've been "slapped in the face by a branch".

So, a word of caution...If you see a "bumble bee" flying in front of your face, swat it. A bee sting beats getting 30 larvae shot into your eye any day of the week.

Do you want to know more? Click here.

note: for those people heading out to visit me, these insects are only problems in the forests. I promise.

Now I Am A Twit

2011-05-07T14:53:00.000-07:00

Well it's about time I did this. All the kids are doing it these days. I am talking about twitter of course.

I never was, nor am I now, too sure about this form of technology. But recent additions to my 'mobile device' arsenal have made me consider it. But I still needed the angle. I didn't want to just end up tweeting stuff like "I am eating a taco". I needed a reason to tweet.

Sporadically, I get complaints about how I am not posting on this blog quite often enough. I do have a life you know. Between school, traveling, music and video editing and beer drinking, I often lack the time or the motivation to post. So perhaps this "twitter" may fill some void. It's not meant to be a replacement, but a supplement. A place where I can post more frequently and about things that don't quite warrant a full post. Just general quotidian musings about life in Finland.

Thus, AWIF enters the world of microblogging

www.twitter.com/finngelino

This is of course only beta testing a this point to see how it goes.

BERLIN:REVISITED Trailer

2011-05-04T00:14:00.000-07:00

What kind of dork makes a trailer for the silly little film he made using footage from his vacation? I guess I am that dork and you can watch it here:

BERLIN:REVISITED TRAILER

Don't forget that this is a sequel and the 1st Berlin video (from 2010) can be seen also:

Part 1

and

Part 2

What's odd about this is that I haven't actually made the film yet, I hope something good will come out of this, but I thought the trailer might motivate me.

Thanks!

Tuli Iso Jytky

2011-04-21T00:42:00.000-07:00

Last sunday night I got in a conversation with a friend who told me she was feeling very anxious. I asked her why and she replied, "the election".

Having citizenship, I was allowed to vote as well, and I did, but I suppose I hadn't grasped the importance of the election quite yet. But when I awoke the next morning I read facebook status updates that made it seem like Finland had just elected Hitler to be their infallible leader. The reason being was that some new nationalist party had gained tremendous support and grew from being nothing more than a footnote in the last election to being the 3rd biggest party. The Perus Suomalaiset, True Finns, or, in Spanish, Los Autenticos Finlandeses are now significant share holders in the Finnish government and their main agenda seems to be: 1. screw immigrants, 2. fuck the EU and 3. get rid of anything that seems socially questionable in the least. Kind of like a Finnish Tea Party, maybe? Well this is following a conservative wave that is sweeping across Europe as other countries have recently voted in more right leaning parties.

But I could only chuckle as I read status updates from facebook that said things like "Okay I am moving out of Finland". How can I read that and not think about the time we elected George W. Bush and Satan, oops I mean Dick Cheney...twice. Perhaps I am just not able to understand the repercussions. Admittedly, after many conversations with friends about how exactly their (our) political system works, I am not really any closer to understanding it. But to be honest, every day life didn't change all that much when Obama was elected, except that we could hold our heads a little higher when traveling abroad.

I spoke to some friends last night and one mentioned that he always enjoyed following U.S. politics because of the polarizing issues and ubiquitous vitriol and that it felt strange that these opposing extremes were now present and relevant in Finland. He sighed and then mumbled that soon "we will have nuclear powered humvees running over all of the queers".

Thats when I spoke up. I told them they have nothing to worry about. In fact the best thing you can hope for is that they try to push through their extremist reactionary agenda and fuck it up so bad that they are out in the next election. In my home country we elect the Republicans, get pissed at them and then elect the Democrats and then get pissed at them and elect the Republicans again and so on and so forth. We have mastered the art of political stagnation.

But lets look at the bright side, the True Finns, want to keep the welfare state. They have a "Finland for Finns" mentality, which sucks, but at least it includes all Finns. In the States the Republicans only care about the Americans who are rich white heterosexual christian males.

Let's face it, the people who have most to fear from the election of the True Finns are the Portuguese.

Better Late Than Never?

2011-04-04T05:20:00.000-07:00

Potiusque sero quam nunquam, a saying designed to appease those who don't get what they want on time. And in most mundane cases it is probably somewhat accurate. For example with a delayed plane or a term paper begrudgingly accepted by the professor after the due date. It is meant to offer solace when one suffers shortcomings in punctuality, or falls victim to someone else's.

Unfortunately those words offer me very little solace today. A few months ago I started a personal campaign to get my words published in one of Helsinki's English language publications. It didn't take long for me to realize that they don't let any Joe-Schmo write just because English is his first language. Yes, I had to prove myself first, and offering this blog as a sample of my writing was not enough. All new writers have to write for the "Ex-Pat View" column.

But this blog is like 75% "ex-pat view", so, while I was more interested in writing about culture and upcoming events in the city and restaurant and concert reviews, this topic seemed right up my alley. So I dove deep into my previous blog posts to get inspiration.

Finally, after brainstorming and writing fresh and editing and rewriting and editing again, I had an article that I was proud of and submitted it with gusto.

Weeks passed and I remained clueless about what had happened to my article. Had it been accepted? Had it been rejected? Was it sitting at the end of a pile waiting its turn to be emblazoned with all of its glory on the recycled paper? Had it slipped through the cracks?

More weeks passed and I reverted into failure mode as I assumed the worst, that the editor took one look at my article and placed it immediately into the trash bin and was too busy to inform me.

Finally, I escaped from my melancholic lethargy long enough to compose an email inquiring about my piece and was met with the response that it had in fact been published...in last week's issue. A glimmer of hope brightened my mood until I was told that the issue was no longer available. They had assumed that I had a subscription to the publication and would find out on my own.

Well, they promised to send me a few back-issue copies so that I have one and can show some to friends and family, but I cannot help but feel an immense wave of disappointment wash over me. Instead of being able to giddily announce my accomplishment to friends and tell them to go'round to the nearest newsstand to pick up today's paper with my photo and the words that I worked so hard to write, I have to be content with my issue lining the bottom of yesterday's hamster cages.

Better late than never, indeed.

Linguistical Singularity

2011-03-24T04:51:00.000-07:00

Has it ever occurred to you, my Finnish readers, that your language doesn't make any sense? Or aspects of it at least? As you all know, I have been attending a course on the Finnish language. I am not here to complain about not fitting in, or being too awesome or whatever. But sometimes you have to just wonder what the hell is going on with this language.

We are studying the i-plural right now where you add an "i" and do some other small changes to make it plural.

The books are on the shelf: Kirjat ovat hyllylä

The books are on the shelves: Kirjat ovat hyllyillä

But really there are a million different word types each with their own form of conjugation; sometimes you remove a letter, sometimes you add an "e", sometimes you do something completely crazy like change the order of the letters. This is what makes Finnish such a complicated language. Also notice that the plural of kirja (book) is kirjat (books), this is the "t-plural" sheeeesh! But hey I am trying to find a method to the madness.

So we had this i-plural homework. I was working on it last night when I was interrupted by my mother calling from Washington State. I stopped and we spoke Finnish and it was a nice conversation. The point is that I forgot to finish my homework and ended up going to class unprepared.

So all of a sudden during the homework review, I was scurrying to finish up the last few questions and I got to one that confused me. The instructions were to change the italicized words into the plural form.

the question that threw me off was this: "Kävimme monessa kaupungissa"

This means "we went to many cities".

She called on one student who conjugated it correctly "monissa kaupungeissa". My brain was stuck in an infinite loop and could not get over one small issue. So, I raised my hand and asked what the sentence meant knowing full well what it meant, but I needed to cover my own ass, just in case.

"It means 'we went to many cities'"

"Ummm...okay, 'many cities', isn't it already in the plural?", I asked trying to make it sound like my brain did not just suffer a severe core meltdown.

This question was met with a load of sniggers from students and a pretty half-assed explanation from the teacher. Apparently "monessa kaupingissa" means "many cities" and "monissa kaupungeissa" means "more than many cities". I believe in English we call that a "shit-load".

A friend of mine later told me that its like saying "many a city" as opposed to saying "many cities", except that it wouldn't have any sort of comical/snooty/douche-baggy sound to it like "many a city" does.

I keep on having these problems that the other students aren't having. Like when the teacher asked me to say "I like a red tomato" in Finnish. My brain could not compute it. It doesn't make any sense. I like red tomatoes, I would like a red tomato served with the salmon, sure. But, "I like a red tomato"?

I suppose each language has its peculiarities that aren't apparent unless you are on the outside looking in. Like English I bet is chalk full of fucked up things that are that way just because they are that way.

But still, having a singular form of a concept that is by definition plural?

Terrarium Life

2011-03-14T01:51:00.000-07:00

My life has changed considerably since last year. If you have been following this blog, you know that last September I moved out of a commune style accommodation complete with an interactive puke fountain into a my very own studio apartment. The nights are quieter and, so far, no one has puked in my shower. It really is very nice in comparison.

There is just one thing though. My immediate neighborhood is quite heavily under construction. In fact my building was the 1st in a whole set to be finished. What does this mean for me? Well the sound proofing on my windows in unbelievable, it is probably some of the best sound proofing I have heard (or not heard rather) in a conventional domicile. But, it isn't perfect. Like one morning where I woke at 6 am to an awful racket. I shuffled over to the window see what the hell it was and it turned out to be one of those engine powered shovel tank things just scraping its shovel blade back and forth over some concrete.

But annoyances of this magnitude are only occasional. And besides, I was still doing the lab work portion of my thesis and was basically working full time because of it. So I was out of the house at 8 am and coming back at 4-5-6 pm when the construction workers were closing up shop for the day anyway. There were extremely rare nighttime annoyances, like the time they all went home but forgot to turn off the industrial strength flood light which was haphazardly placed so it shone directly into my window all night. But these issues were usually remedied within a day or two.

Now I have a somewhat different problem. I am no longer doing lab work and I am focussing much more on writing up the resulting thesis, and I write from home. So all of a sudden I am home all day while the building just across my tiny street is under construction. I live on the 4th floor and they are just starting to build the 6th floor of the adjacent building. The noise isn't a problem. The problem is that I feel like I am on display.

You would think that all these construction workers have more important things to do than to stare at a guy in his late 20s sitting behind a laptop for hours on end. But I am not convinced. I can feel the occasional glances. I have even had staring contests with some of them. So strange. Staring contests with friends always end in laughter. Staring contests with women in bars always end with me staring at the floor for the rest of the night. But staring contests with big burly construction workers, when both of us have more important tasks at hand? It's a matter of manhood here.

Okay so that only happened once. But really. They have a pretty good view of my entire studio. I feel a little as if I am an animal in a zoo. So, even if I am working from home, I still have to wear clothes.

I can't wait until people actually start living in these apartments. Then I will be on display 24-7 and not just during business hours.

This is a photo without zoom of my studio from the construction site I took one night while snooping. And with the exception of the bathroom, that is the entire flat. There is no escape.

Walking On Water

2011-03-10T02:01:00.000-08:00

Spring is in the air. The temperature is now consistently on the plus side, though only a few a degrees so. The 1st calf was born in northern Finland. The bears at the Helsinki zoo have woken from their winter slumber. Sima and mämmi, Finland's official spring time products, just hit the shelves. Oh, and the snow has begun it's several month long process of changing from a pure cocaine white to a beautiful dull brownish gray slush.

That being said, I just unloaded my camera that ran out of batteries long ago and uncovered some pictures from the ice capades I went on back in the good old -20C days. Those really cold days aren't all so bad. You can really see some spectacular things when it is that cold. It is like it is too cold for poor-visibility to come out and play.

Here are some photos from when I conquered my fears and took a stroll on the frozen bay near my house:

These photos were taken probably a month ago or so. The bay is still frozen and I do still see people out for these Jesus-esque strolls, but there numbers are, understandably, fewer and fewer each week. Soon the only people left on the ice will be the people who ventured onto it 1st all those months ago, the ice-fisherman. First to come, last to go. Here is a bit of relevant Finnish viral youtube greatness.

As for me, I doubt I will venture out on the ice anymore. I did it, so I can say I've done it. I had a dream a few nights ago where I was staring out the window of my apartment at the frozen bay just as the ice broke causing a dozen or so people to fall in. The funny thing was that all the people just walked out of the water and continued strolling as if it were nothing. And, just as is the case in most dreams, nothing seemed odd about it at all. I just shrugged and said, "Oh, I didn't know it was that shallow" and I went back to whatever it was I was doing instead of calling the Finnish equivalent of 911.

Note to self: Find out what the Finnish equivalent of 911 is. It is probably important.

Converse ♥ Marimekko

2011-03-04T00:25:00.000-08:00

Finally, they are here! My favorite shoe has had sex with Finland and it looks like it's quadruplets!

Yeah, in a press release from Marimekko on the 17th of December 2010, the following was announced

"Marimekko Corporation and Converse Inc., one of the world's most iconic lifestyle companies in men’s and women’s footwear and apparel, have entered into an agreement whereby Marimekko licenses its emblematic patterns to Converse"

Well it's about fucking time. A few years ago Marimekko had a knock-off pair for sale, complete with white rubber toe. Though, in place of all the "All Star" emblems, there was a Marimekko emblem. Otherwise, they looked pretty much like converse. They didn't feel exactly like converse and I assume that was something to do with proprietary specifications. But Marimekko no longer has to settle for cheap shoe prostitutes because, finally, she gets the real thing. And what can we expect from the beautiful unification of two name-brand legends? A price tag that is double that of your standard chuck taylor. But that is what credit cards are for.

The only real problem with my old knock-off pair was that the shoes were designed for women and thus the largest size was one size too small for me. But, like Cinderella's ugly step sister, I shoved my foot in there and told myself it was a fit. I lived in denial for a few months until I, fearing irreparable toe damage, decided to give them to a friend of mine in California.

Thank god today at 5 pm I can actually buy a pair of these beauties in my size. Or I thought so, until I read that the new line of converse is WOMEN SPECIFIC.

OH IT BURRRRRRRNNNNS, IT BURRRRRRNNNNS!

Well come on there has to be women with gigantic ugly feet who want a piece of the pie, there just has to be. So here's to hoping, I'll keep my fingers crossed.

A Little Spring In My Step

2011-03-03T03:15:00.000-08:00

Oh the Finnish winter. It's harsh, long, dark and so very cold. My skin is dry and irritated and these arctic winds can suck the bolts out of a ship's hull. Even on nights where I had invitations to party flying in from every direction, I stayed home to avoid the cold.

But, slowly the world is changing. Each day the sun rises earlier and sets later and, at least for now, the temperature has risen from a chilling -20C to a tropical -2C. I am now woken up by the sun and I have stopped wearing my long-johns. I can walk around with my coat open and there is a good 20 minutes before the tips of my ears get cold.

Spring is still a month or two away. The bay is still frozen thick enough to walk on and I assume it will be for quite some time. Snow still covers most surfaces, snow flurries seem to happen spontaneously and the temperature can dip back into the minus teens at any moment. But the evidence of winter's coming end is becoming more and more apparent.

And you can see it in the face of every Finn as you walk down the melting streets. You can see it in their eyes as the sun peeks out from behind a cloud bank and they lift their hand to shield themselves from the brightness. Summer festivals have started to announce their line-ups. Everyone is starting to get giddy, tingling in anticipation like a heroin addict who spots a syringe from across the room.

This feeling is absent in Southern California. When all you get is sunshine and warmth, sunshine and warmth don't mean anything. But in Finland, even if it is still cold and wet, this excitement, this preemptive high, is our reward for putting up with four months of darkness, coldness and just general unpleasantness.

The end is in sight and it's just a matter of time before I'm sharing cold beers in the park with friends.

We Now Return to The Return of The Finnish Class, Returns!

2011-03-02T07:18:00.000-08:00

I promise, this will be the last post regarding me and these Finnish classes for a while. But there have been recent developments.

Last time we spoke, I had been kicked out of my Finnish course for being too damn good. Well, that is not entirely accurate. It was strongly suggested I not attend the course and I was never offered the appropriate paperwork that I needed in order to make my participation in the class official.

Frustrated and feeling like the gods were against me, I gave up. I tried and gave it a go but it was to no avail. Then my mother found out I had given up. She expressed a level of disappointment that rivaled my own, and no one likes to see mom frown.

To be honest, my mother has tried to teach me formal Finnish in the past. But, you know, teenagers are teenagers. They rebel against their parents and it is pretty well documented that children of multicultural back grounds often shun the parts of their heritage that make them different. My name already made me a sitting duck for ridicule and homosexual slurs were muttered under breaths when the tradition of naked sauna with other men was mentioned.

I wouldn't say I consciously gave my Finnish heritage the finger, but I think I definitely shyed away from it for a period in my early teens. It had to have an effect on my desire to learn and perhaps I didn't take my mother's attempts to teach me so seriously. While I never recall anyone saying "you'll regret this when you're older" in regards to this, those words sporadically ring in my ears as I struggle over the grammatically correct way of saying what ought to be a simple sentence in Finnish, regardless if everyone can understand what I am saying. Well hindsight is 20/20, life is a bitch like that.

So, I began to reinvestigate. I asked about more advanced courses, the response to which was, there aren't any. Total bullshit answer, they don't want to deal with me, it is clear. But after a few emails sprinkled ever so slightly with sarcasm and displeasure to all of the Finnish teachers, the teacher who gave me the figurative boot wrote me and said that I was welcome to attend her course after all and that my interpretation of being unwelcome was a misunderstanding.

So, once again, I swallowed my pride and started attending the course where the teacher thinks I don't belong and the students resent me. I sit there for two hours in utter agony with the glares of 30 eyeballs piercing my head. Im stuck in this crazy grey area where I understand everything and yet feel impossibly embarrassed when I get an answer wrong, because as far as everyone else is concerned, I speak fluently. I'm not even sure it's good for me anymore as I catch myself second guessing my gut reactions and follow grammatical rules instead, only to find that the verb is irregular and my gut was right in the 1st place.

It is important to me. But if I don't do it for myself, then I should do it for my mother who gave her best years dealing with three asshole, shit-head children, and did it with a smile.

I guess I can handle the shame, it is just a few hours a week.

Tongue Depressor II: This Time It's Personal

2011-02-10T03:10:00.000-08:00

Have you ever gotten the feeling that you aren't wanted? Nothing is really said directly but there is this implicitness that is so thick you can dribble it over pancakes.

I am really beginning to enjoy this beginner's course I am attending...or I should say, I was. Sure I knew 90% of the right answers but I was really taking it seriously and actually investigating why they were the right answers, knowledge that even my Finnish friends claim not to have. Yesterday, I attended the 3rd session of this Finnish language course only to find that, due to too few students, it had been cancelled. We were given a list of other similar ongoing courses: one, even more of a beginner's class, and the other, a more advanced class, though only slightly so. We were informed that they were using different text books, so the 80 euro book I already had was, more or less, useless.

I think the right thing to do would have been to carry on with the course and just not offer it again, or at least gauge for interest next time. Kind of a drag, already invested time, energy and money into this and now I'm back at square one. I hid my annoyance but all was not lost since I was able to return my practically unused text book for a full refund.

Well, I decided to try my luck with the slightly more advanced course, I mean, after all it may actually be more my speed anyway. So, perhaps this could turn out in my favor. Well I sat down and waited while the other students pulled out their homework. It didn't take long for the teacher to notice I was a new student and, in Finnish, asked if was I was indeed new. I replied, in Finnish, that I was and that I was from another course that had been cancelled and was told she had been informed of this cancellation and was expecting us. I could feel the stares and the "what the fuck is this guy doing here" thoughts from the other students penetrate through the back of my skull as I tried to avoid eye contact with them. The teacher paused and suggested that this course may be too easy for me. I told her that I would like to sit in for at least this session to test out the waters.

I could immediately tell that these students were a little more advanced than my previous classmates, though not by much. They didn't seem to hesitate as long before giving answers and their vocabulary seemed a modicum better. I kept mostly quiet allowing the other students to attempt to answer. Eventually the teacher turned to me and asked my name and in nearly perfect Finnish phonetics, I said "Tuomas". She looked at me cockeyed and asked if I was Finnish and I said that I was half. She translated that to the class which triggered gasps, jeers and sniggers.

My last teacher just accepted this fact and was okay with the idea that I wanted to round off the rough edges of my Finnish with a foundation in proper grammar. It was more or less understood that I would give the other students their opportunities when we were covering easy material and that I would save my questions for when we were discussing concepts I didn't understand. I even needed to be corrected on occasion.

This teacher just was not having it. Once again, as if talking to the entire class, said I didn't belong there. Afterwards I, along with the other students from the cancelled course, approached her. She told them that if they showed up again during the next session, she would officially admit them. After dealing with them she again reiterated that the course would be too easy for me. I explained that while I speak well, I do have problems with the grammar, for instance I have no idea what it means for a word to be in the partitive or nominative case, it may as well be Greek to me.

"This class is too easy, is it compulsory for your degree?"

"No"

And then she accused me of just trying to get easy credits.

"No, I'm just genuinely interested in building my grammar"

"Well then take the more advanced class, if you don't need this for your degree then it doesn't matter what grade you get so it doesn't matter if it is too hard."

Then she added that she could offer me no information on who was teaching these classes, where they were or what times they were held.

I don't get it, isn't it my prerogative? I had already come to to terms with the fact that I may need to start off in an easier course for fear that I lack a solid foundation in the concepts that these more advanced courses would build on. I can only approximate the language thus far, and I'll be honest, sometimes my answers, while correct, are attributable to just plain luck. Still, I don't think I will continue with her course. I can't remember the last time I felt so many "fuck-off" vibes.

Tongue Depressor

2011-01-26T08:56:00.000-08:00

The Finnish language is one of the most difficult and useless languages in the world. I have a fantasy sometimes where I am able to help a stranded or lost tourist with my Finnish language skills. Or there is one where I am sitting on a plane and I hear over the PA system, "Does anyone on board speak Finnish?", and I get up out of my seat heroically and resolve any problems. "Could you please tell this Finnish passenger what is in the meal, she is a vegetarian". "Yes, I can because I SPEAK FINNISH!", I would announce, proudly beating my chest. But the problem is that if someone speaks Finnish, chances are that they are probably fluent in English, or know at least enough to say, "no meat".

So, where does this leave me? From a practical stand point, knowing Finnish as a second language is nothing more than earning a cultural merit badge. It doesn't have the same business appeal as knowing Chinese, Japanese or even Spanish. Though, there is something alluring about knowing a language that only 5 million people speak. Everyone in my family perks their ears up when they hear Finnish spoken in a non-Finnish environment. There is a feeling of belonging to an exclusive club, a rush of adrenalin that one might expect when discovering they are sitting next to another Skull and Bones member.

It is obviously arguable that I would be interested in learning the language as a civic and cultural duty, being that I am a citizen immersed in this cultural bathtub. Whatever the case may be, I am trying to polish off the rough edges of my ability. My friends have all said that I have made considerable progress, though I am skeptical. My fluency is largely dependent on circumstance. For example, when meeting new people I automatically speak English to establish myself in a confident manner, then after a few beers I might switch to Finnish, and after a few more I speak drunk.

Learning Finnish passively through immersion is impossible due to the ubiquitous use of the English language here and while I do challenge myself from time to time, I am still unhappy with the progress I have made. Thus, I have enrolled in a Finnish language course...It's about time. But placing me is like that old square peg-round hole problem. Relative to other students, I have an amazing vocabulary but I am behind with grammar. This is why I haven't taken any classes until now. The teachers just look at me and shrug when I ask what course level I should attend.

Well, now I have taken matters into my own hands and I just signed up for a course. A continuation course, but still rather basic. I excel at vocabulary and with this bunch I'm even kicking their butts in conjugations, but I'm not without my errors. My problem is that while I can usually guess the right conjugation, I don't know why it's correct.

It is going to be slow, but it will probably be good for me. I'll get some basic grammar education under my belt and even the remedial nature should exercise the language center of my brain. I'm trying to tone my Finnish muscles, not bulk-up. But my concern is that in coming sessions, my course mates will begin to resent me. On the rare occasions that I have a question, I am not merely asking how to say "spoon", I am forming complex sentences and speaking in what must sound to the other students like I actually wrote the text book.

Eventually we will get to studying more advanced grammar. In the mean time, I will sit in class and bite my tongue so that the other students have a chance to say "koira" when a picture of a dog flashes across the screen.

One Flu Over the Cuckoo's Nest

2011-01-23T04:40:00.000-08:00

So it is the beginning of a new year here in Finland. How have I spent my time so far, you ask? In my bed producing enough mucus to make even Jaba the Hutt blush. Some bug I no doubt caught in my last few days in California. Or was it the lady sitting one person away from me on the plane who killed time by sneezing one continuous sneeze for 12 hours. I suppose who to blame is moot and I ought to just nurse myself back to health. At least I got my 2011 sickness out of the way, that is how it works, right?

Usually when I am sick, I just grin and bear it and watch a couple of bad movies. Medicine available for the flu usually just treats the symptoms and not the flu itself and, with the exception of pain, most symptoms are actually just your bodies defense mechanism against the viral invasion, a catch-22 if there ever was one. So I treat with the normal home remedies: chicken soup, orange juice and good ol' fashioned fetal positioned rest.

This time the symptoms got so bad that my usual nonchalance just wasn't an option. I couldn't sleep, couldn't breath, couldn't swallow and my brain function was just above "maintain life functions" mode and thus only able to understand the complexities of Adam Sandler movies. So I ventured down to the local pharmacy with bloodshot eyes, throbbing head and nostrils, in defiance of logic, both crusty and flowing like the Mississippi.

I looked at my flu medicine options: Ibuprofen, nasalspray and throat lozenges. That was it. I hailed an employee and explained that I had the flu. She brought me back to the same shelf and said, "We have ibuprofen, nasal spray and throat lozenges".

"You don't have any decongestants like Sudafed?", I asked. She stared at me blankly and held up the nasal spray and continued to explain how it is used, for how long it can be used and my alternatives if I had nasal spray allergies. I politely waited until she finished.

Finally I saw my chance. "In the States we have these pills you can take. Just one pill and it's a pain reliever, decongestant, anti-histamine, fever reducer...it's everything, in one pill."

She smiled, "Oh, well we don't have those here, you need a prescription for those."

All I wanted was my nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever, so I can rest medicine that basically arrives free in the mail at home, and I couldn't get it.

So I bought some tissues instead and went home with my tail between my legs and devoured the 2 years expired Tylenol cold and flu capsules that I found on the bottom of my toiletries kit and returned to the fetal postion.

Wuss Factor

2011-01-14T22:18:00.000-08:00

Well my Southern California winter vacation has come to an end. I am sure you are expecting another retrospective meditation on the concept of "home" and what it is exactly that defines it, but I'll spare you this time. Those types of posts following trips to CA have become cliche and redundant on this blog. And let's face it, the idea of "home" is much too difficult a concept for even me and my gargantuan head to express in simple terms.

No, I am going to talk about what all self respecting Finns yearn to talk about: the weather. Last time I was in California, in June, the temperature difference between Helsinki and Los Angeles was arguably negligible, just a few degrees in either direction. It goes without saying that this is not the case now. The sun shone intermittently between the unusual rain showers at long enough spans that allowed me to pretend I was sun tanning. In other words, it was nice to see and feel the sun in ways that I hadn't for many months.

While I was sad to leave melanomaville, I am fine with returning to the frozen hell-scape that is Finland. But the feeling that is most prevalent in my mind right now is that Southern Californians are fucking wimps. They are so spoiled by the weather they have that it is beyond ludicrousness. Come on now, the Mediterranean climate is pretty much the best climate in the world, that is not opinion, it's fact, so stop bitching.

Having said that, it didn't take me long to acclimatize and I soon joined my fellow Angelino's in griping about how cold it was, stopping only occasionally to consider the irony. I discussed the matter with my brother who is also familiar with the frigidity of Finland in the winter months. Interestingly enough he explained that he is much colder in LA than he ever was in Finland. The reason being is that when here you can look out the window and prepare accordingly. "Oh, there are 2 meter piles of snow everywhere, I ought to take my coat". In LA, the outdoor appearance can be deceiving.

Sitting in the backyard shirtless in the sun feeling the warmth of the rays is all good and fine, but as soon as that shadow is cast over you something happens that I like to call "the dark side of the moon" effect. There is what seems like a 10 degree drop in temperature, hairs standing on end and nipples so hard they could cut glass. Of course I was cold, I wasn't wearing any clothes!

So a message to all my California readers: button your lips, trade your flip-flops for proper shoes and put on a thicker jacket, your t-shirt you got from American Apparel really isn't that cool that it needs to be on display year round.

Snowed In

2010-12-20T06:59:00.000-08:00

Bad news for my American readers. Old Man Winter has requested I stay a little bit longer in Finland. Yeah, Europe is facing one of the most extreme winters in recent years and it is causing havoc in every air traffic control tower this side of the Atlantic.

I was meant to fly to the east coast via Frankfurt, and it only adds insult to injury that both Helsinki and Frankfurt airports were open. The culprit to blame is London's Heathrow airport. It closed down and thus all flights due to land in the U.K. were rerouted. Our pilot politely gave us the bad news saying that, "there are no more parking spots in Frankfurt". We were told to stand in line at the transit desk to change our routing. I waited in line for 4 hours and finally my routing was changed...to Tuesday.

While most of the other passengers, who were flying within europe, expressed glee when they were given new tickets for flights later that day, I hung my head with flickers of fear that my confirmed seat on Tuesday's flight was not by any means confirmed in the eyes of mother nature. Seems unfair that one country's lack of preparation for snow fucks a ton of people in a country well equipped to handle such conditions. I suppose it is karma because Finns are known to scoff when major cities like London or Paris completely shut down with only a few centimeters of snow. Sometimes comments come back to bite us in ass.

Well I got a lunch voucher and they promised to pay my taxi fare home and then back to the airport on Tuesday. I collected my bags and ordered a cab. The driver approached me and said, "Are you Mr. Brock?" and he helped me with my bags to the trunk.

On the ride home, the driver and I discussed the pros and cons of this kind of weather and that with a few exceptions, like traffic problems, a white Christmas is better than a grey muddy one.

The conversation lulled and I began to collect my thoughts. As we pulled into town, I could hear Dean Martin's voice faintly from the radio, mocking me with every word.

"Since we've got no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..."

Durian Grey

2010-12-18T10:22:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas from me...

Ladies and gentlemen. I would like to present to you my "debut" "ep" Durian Grey. These are songs I have spent much of free time in the past year writing, recording and vocally butchering...just for fun. And what good is music that people can't hear? It's no good if there is no audience, so you can download this for the low low price of $0.00 right here on your favorite american in finland blog. Just click the link below. Should download automatically.

Durian Grey EP (2010)

Track List:

1. Astrological Love Triangle 2010

2. Day Dream

3. Fish Out of Water

4. Black Hole (cover of a Urinals song)

5. Perfectly Perfunctory

6. Allegory

I would like to thank Elise Malmivirta for the wonderful cover art. We had great fun with the photo shoot and she is a trooper dealing with my bizarre requests. Check out more of her photos from her blog.

So give it a listen. At best I could be your new favorite band. At worst, you can finally know what it is I do on these cold dark nights.

PS. I mixed this on headphones, so it will sound best like that...

The Worst Seat In The House

2010-12-15T06:10:00.000-08:00

Today at work we had our department's annual Christmas lunch. Since there are no Jews in Finland we can call it a "Christmas Lunch" and not a "Holiday Lunch". I hurried to get all my work done before noon so that we would only be moderately late for the festivities and none of my coworkers minded leaving a bit later to accommodate my schedule.

Finally it was time to leave and we dressed in our winter gear and ventured off to find the party. We got there and began hanging up our coats and one of the hostesses said that we ought to hurry since tables were filling up quickly. We ran up stairs to find a full banquet hall. There seemed to be some empty tables in the back and we hurried through the crowd to find that many of the empty seats were "reserved" requiring us to split up the party into two groups: Everyone else and me. So I took the lone seat at a table which would soon be filled with the unknowns whose friend's had reserved them seats.

Now, I have heard work parties described as being awkward, but get a load of this. Not only was I sitting an aisle's length away from my party, but the seat across from me was filled by the one professor whom I had developed quite a distaste for. The one who would rather yell across the building at people, disturbing the otherwise tranquil atmosphere, than get up and participate in proper indoor discourse. The one who types so loud on her computer that I have contemplated calling the police accusing her of domestic abuse. The one who, without fail, finds it necessary to drag a meeting on much longer than it needs to be by adding trivial comments apropos of nothing, yeah that one.

Oh, and that's not all! Sitting not more than a table's length away was a girl who set me up on a blind date with her friend, the friend eventually making it clear she was not interested in hearing from me anymore. And, while there are two sides to every story, she has probably only heard one. Now, to be honest I am not 100% sure it was her. The only reason I doubt was that as we exchanged glances, the 1st time, there didn't seem to be any sense of recognition. But I got the haunting feeling that there was a sense of deliberateness with each subsequent glance, a deliberateness that sent chills through my bones.

Oh, and that still wasn't it. Sitting across the table and two seats over, and I am not making this up, was, none other than the girl who took one look at me on that one faithful night and turned around and sat next to the bus driver. I could not believe it. It was the most awkward distance ever. It was too far away to allow me to introduce myself as a human being with thoughts and feelings and too close to be outside of the realm of behavioral influence.

So I sat there, not talking to anyone and just giggling nervously to myself about the odds of having the worst seat in the house, feeling the creepiness stats rise exponentially.

I did what any person in this situation would do and said, "I think I'll have another glass of wine".

Rare Exports

2010-12-13T11:38:00.000-08:00

Everyone knows that Santa Claus comes from Finland, or at least they should. But the real story behind father christmas may shock you. The Finnish word for Santa is "Joulupukki" which literally translates to "Christmas Goat". Yes, that sounds weird, but any Finn will tell you that Joulupukki wears a goat skin, I mean it gets pretty cold here. What you are less likely to hear is that "Joulupukki", which is basically the same thing we got in the States, is not the whole story.

From my understanding, before there was Joulupukki, there was Nuuttipukki. Nuuttipukki is an elderly figure associated with Christmas, but long story short, he is basically the opposite of Joulupukki. Instead of awarding good children with presents and candy, he punishes naughty children, and from some accounts, with violence.

If you investigate further you may find that the Norse God Puki is a, "supernatural being of evil power". Could it be that the original Father Christmas was a Finnishized version this evil spirit, the proverbial boogie-man, that parents told their children about in an effort to scare them straight? Could it be that to hide this sinister version of Christmas the gentler kinder Santa we are all familiar was adopted from the Coca-Cola company?

I don't know and to be honest I have heard different accounts of who or what this Nuuttipukki is. Any Finns reading this, feel free to add your thoughts. For the rest of you, here are a few documentary films to educate you.

Rare Exports Inc. from Woodpecker Film on Vimeo.

Rare Exports: The Official Safety Instructions from Woodpecker Film on Vimeo.

And here is the trailer for the feature length which is already out in the USA, though on limited release.

Merry Christmas from AWIF...

Tallinn is to Helsink as...

2010-12-12T11:26:00.000-08:00

...Tijuana is to San Diego.

Well, not exactly but it is the best of all possible answers. But the atmosphere surrounding us on our voyage across the gulf of Finland was slightly reminiscent to the one felt when crossing the border into Mexico. I think it was the lower prices and the promise of copious amounts of cheap booze that did it really.

While I had been to Tallinn once about ten years ago, those memories are all but forgotten and the ones that remain are hidden behind a thick veil of intoxication. That is kind of what happens there. Regardless, a trip to Tallinn, Helsinki's sister city and the capital of Estonia, is almost a rite of passage here in Finland and when my friends said they were planning to spend a day there for a "pikku-joulu" celebration, I jumped on the opportunity. I was desperately wanting to replace those old fuzzy memories of being an underage kid in a country that didn't care about checking IDs with brand new fuzzy memories.

But for a moment lets get back into the relationship between Helsinki and Tallinn and I think this photo sums it up.

75% of the passengers are hauling these roller bags to Tallinn, and here is the kicker, they are all empty. The now empty space in these bags will soon fill up with beer and liquor the likes of which yee probably have seen before, but at half the price. See, the Finnish government, in an attempt to curb the perpetual drunkenness that intoxicates the country, has levied steep sin taxes on hooch. But, the god of alcohol (Ike Turner?) had an ace up his sleeve. Once Estonia became a member of the EU and unregulated movement between EU countries became rampant, the previous restrictions were replaced with the "as much booze as you can carry" policy. And that my friends, is the story of the 1st Tallinn booze run. Oh, Eastern Europe...give a Finn 100 euros in a former soviet block country, and he'll need a liver transplant by dinner time.

Well we got on the boat just in time for the 10:30 am "buy 2 drinks, get the 3rd free" happy hour deal. So we celebrated with champagne, as you do. This was not mere, "yeah, it's a bloody mary kind of morning". This was AM drinking that, with the exception of the light outside and the aftertaste of my breakfast still lingering on my taste buds, rivaled any friday night in town. What had I gotten myself into.

Just like in Tijuana, we walked around a bit drinking and looking at tacky merchandise, though it was mulled wine and wool socks in the place of margaritas and sombreros. But it didn't take us too long to find a cafe to get out of the cold and add another liquid blanket to the growing drink count.

The party split ways, one group went off to the modern art museum and the other decided to find the seventh strangest bar in the world...and have another drink. Guess which party I belonged to.

Yes, according to Lonely Plant, the Depeche Mode bar in Tallinn is the 7th strangest bar in the world. A bar with photos, posters, ticket stubs, basically any product with "Depeche Mode" written on it could be found taped or bolted to the walls. Then there was the music, which was, you guessed it, 24/7 Depeche Mode. It was quirky, I'll give it that, but if this was the 7th strangest bar in the world, then I've seen the top 6 also.

The night led us to a semi-fancy restaurant. The food was alright, I had a smoked-cheese puree soup and a beef fillet. The remarkable thing was that I had an appetizer (the soup), the beef, a beer, a coffee and a glass of Laphroig single malt whiskey all for less money than what the main course would have cost alone in Helsinki. Decent food and wonderful company.

But time was of the essence and we needed to get back to the harbor t0 catch our ferry back to Helsinki, where the buy 2 drinks get 1 free deal was still painfully in affect. Then it was off to our continuation party at a club in Helsinki.

Se oli hauska reissu.

Two Nuts Were Walking Down The Steet...

2010-11-14T02:08:00.000-08:00

...One was a salted.

I guess that joke doesn't work as well when you see it written, well it probably doesn't work well when you hear it either.

But anyway, I have always thought of Helsinki as a really safe place, and don't get me wrong, it is. 99% of the time you really have to go looking for trouble to find any. And, I don't know if you know trouble, but you can usually find him getting shit faced in a bar in the seedier parts of town. Well sometimes, after trouble has had enough or even worse, he gets kicked out (this makes him angry), he will wander the streets in search of something even more intoxicating than alcohol, the adrenalin rush that accompanies the age old art of fisticuffs.

In tonight's story, "trouble" manifested itself as two young gentlemen...wait scratch that, they weren't gentlemanly in any respect. Perhaps I was over confident about how safe this city is, but I decided to walk home after the party I was attending ended. It was late so my options were taxi or walk. It was only a 30 minute walk home and the weather was reasonable for this time of year, so I decided to hoof it.

I walked 75% of the way home and was crossing the bridge between Vallila and Arabia. Two guys were crossing the bridge from the other direction and they didn't look exceptionally unsavory. Just a couple of guys in their 20s, mostly likely walking home from a bar, just like me. Regardless, the bridge always makes me a little nervous when I walk over it late at night. On the off chance something would happen, you can really only escape in two dimensions, the way you came and the way you are going. Well I guess the "off chance" was "on", on this particular occasion.

Well we approached each other and one of the guys didn't take very long to violate my personal space. He asked me if I spoke Finnish. I said, "no", as I usually do in these situations. Most people either walk away or switch to English. This guy had a different approach. He screamed at me, in Finnish, "Fuck you for not speaking Finnish!" and gave me a swift kick to chest.

And this really is amazing when you think about it, the human body's reaction to an event like this. Fight or flight set in and I was well into a full speed sprint before I had even processed what had happened. The assailant chased me but gave up pretty quickly, like 10-15 meters quick. It was pretty clear, even from a distance, that this guy wasn't on his high school's cross country team.

Well I stopped running after I decided there was sufficient distance between us, and he and his crony continued with their journey. I walked home from there with a slightly quicker pace than before, keeping a weary eye over my shoulder. And I am fine, I was just shooken up a little. Like I said, it is remarkable, but I was miles away before they had an opportunity to get another shot in. I did more damage to myself with that evenings alcohol consumption (hungover as we speak) than these ruffians did. It really is rare that trouble comes looking for you here, but I suspect that even heaven has parts of town that aren't 100% safe at certain hours of the day.

In retrospect, I should have answered "yes".

I Found Out What It's Like To Be "That Guy"

2010-11-10T07:44:00.000-08:00

When I was younger I would ask my father about hitchhiking in the good ol'days. Like before people actually believed they would be axe murdered or, even worse, before they considered the insurance implications of being or having a stranger in the car. While he might have only dabbled in hitchhiking compared to the way others in the same time period might have relied on it, he still came out of it with a few good stories. I have heard them several times and almost like clock work he closes out "story time" by mentioning the feeling of being emasculated by the fact that young unaccompanied women drivers would often offer him a lift. "I guess I don't really look all that threatening", he mused with a smile.

The other night while at work, I went through my standard "well I'm gonna call it a day" routine by checking bus times and fartin' around on the net until I had to rush to catch my bus. I ran out the door and found my bus idling at the stop as if it was waiting for my arrival. I boarded to find the bus completely void of other passengers and without haste I chose my favorite seat, the elevated seats immediately aft of the center doors.

Shortly thereafter, a young woman entered the bus, paid her fare, started walking down the aisle, took one look at me, pulled a 180 and went and sat by the driver. I recall advice given to me by someone who frequently rode the L.A. city busses that if anyone on the bus looks questionable, grabbing a seat near the driver leaves you less likely to receive harassment.

I don't know how else to react but be a little offended. I mean I rate my creepiness as somewhere between a puppy and a kitten. I realize that that previous comment makes me sound creepy, but that's kind of the point. I can gain all sorts of creepy stats before I get anywhere near the level of that guy who breathes heavily and continues to ask you out regardless of your repeated threats to call the police.

I know what all of you are thinking, "Oh god, you are just Woody Allening out about this". And I realize that my presence in this galaxy probably does not have the Earth shattering effects that I might sometimes believe it does. But seriously, no one else in the bus and as soon as my presence is acknowledged there is a drastic change in trajectory to a well established "safe zone"? I mean, just because I read into everything doesn't mean I'm not right sometimes.

While my ego is badly bruised I suppose there is one silver lining on this otherwise dark cloud. At least I don't look like as much of a weenie as my dad must've when he was my age.

Catch-22

2010-11-09T07:14:00.000-08:00

Homesick? That is a question I get an awful lot, especially now that the darkness that flanks the daylight is moving in on both sides at an alarming rate. And while I would like to act tough and tell the locals that I can handle it, I do suffer from sporadic pangs of homesickness. It is hard not to feel it sometimes, like when you accidently check the L.A. weather forecast or when you slip questionable food product into your mouth, for example.

I had a conversation with a friend who has also recently spent some time abroad. Their advice was to not take the experience for granted and completely embrace the Finnishness, darkness and all. And I get it. Last time I lived here I hit the eject button the second the "target destroyed" message flashed across the console of my brain. While I maintain that there is nothing wrong with the eagerness of being reunited with one's family and friends (and eating a double-double), I admit that maybe I didn't need to rush back to American soil as quickly as I did.

Well it is November again and for anyone who has followed this blog since the beginning knows how I feel about Novembers in Finland. Just read my post The Killing Moon Is Over and you can get a good picture of how people generally feel about this month. Finns like to complain about the weather a lot, and this is one of the few months where it is more than justified.

So in the passing conversations with the locals, the pre-christmas depression is inevitably brought up. Rising to go to work when it is still dark, watching the sun rise and then set through your office window and then trudging back home, in the dark, would take its toll, even on the Devil himself. So it is understandable when you talk to a Finn and they say things like, "I want go somewhere warm and sunny" or "I want to go home and lie in bed all day".

That is when it hit me. To completely embrace the Finnishness, my Finnishness, if you will, I must invariably yearn to be somewhere else right now. This raises quite a mental conundrum. I mustn't take my time here for granted thus, I must take my Finnishness to the extreme. But, to be one with my Finnishness, I must yearn to be elsewhere, which I can't do because I should make the most out of my time here.

I think I broke my brain.

Tuomas Brock's Haunted Tuparit

2010-11-03T08:52:00.000-07:00

The "tupari" is an age old Finnish custom of welcoming guests into your relatively fresh living quarters. It is at this event that you throw cheap booze at them until they either leave, or pass out and puke all over your floor. In other words, a house warming party, Finnish style. And since All Hallows' Eve was only a month or two after I moved into my flat, I decided to make it a Halloween party. It took weeks of planning and I had to give my guests enough time to think up costumes. But in the end, it was a success. One happy customer said that it was, "the most well planned halloween party [he had] ever been to". Surely it was nothing compared to some parties I've been to back state side, but hey I did my best.

Here is a poem I wrote and gave to all of my guests before their arrival:

It has been a long October;
And I have spent it, mostly, sober;
But, the wait is almost over;
For the night of ghoulish fun;
Sobriety will be transcended;
For one night travails all ended;
When us and spirits become blended;
My goodness yes, pun intended;

I surely hope you will attend;
this ain't no fad nor passing trend;
and I hope our friendship won't un-mend;
But I lack funds for which to spend;
For I am but a humble student;
And thus this announcement is surely prudent;
I hope you do not think me queer;
Quoth the raven, "Bring Your Own Beer".

And oh my dears, i must implore;
Bring your own beer, and nothing more;
Except yourselves and ghostly lore;
Perhaps some moves for the dance floor;
Snacks and food I will provide;
To fill your guts once you're inside;
But I must warn you if you're late;
you might be met with an empty plate;
"How do I get there", you contemplate?
Quoth the raven, "Tram six or eight".

Basically, the point of that was to show you that I was getting really into this party planning thing. You think Bridezillas are bad, I was a hostzilla! Constantly bugging my potential guests about getting their costumes together and spending more money than I would like to admit getting my apartment a costume. I even suffered some last minute crises. I bought a bottle of blood from the store. I asked the clerk, "I need to splatter my bathroom walls with blood, can you help?". He gave me this bottle and sent me on my way. Fast forward to day of, I am admiring the real-blood consistency and then I read on the back, "Will stain counter tops permanently". Let me ask you, what good is fake blood that stains permanently? So, all of a sudden, curtain is in 3 hours and I have lost my bathroom decoration! Well, needless to say, I was totally in panic mode, OMG! But I threw up a spare curtain to make the room more claustrophobic and some glow in the dark spider webs (thanks Diana). Crisis averted! Lastly I covered the lamp with a red filter and played the monologue from Disney's Haunted mansion on a loop, along with the psycho theme and a few other classics.

Here are some photos of my place and the lovely guests!

And for the Grand finale

Special guest Glenn Danzig came to my party and played London Dungeon, Where Eagles Dare and Mother and then for some reason he played Add It Up by the Violent Femmes as his encore.

Happy Halloween!

Oh, The Horror

2010-10-31T12:04:00.000-07:00

To get my spook juices flowing (not a double entendre you sick bastards) for the month of October, some friends and I went out to a summer, er umm....autumn cabin for a weekend of horror movie delight. Being in the middle of the forest in the dark could only add to the anxiety that horror movie goers lust after. Plus the TV in the cabin is bigger than all of our TVs put together.

Of course, it was also an excuse to sauna and drink like crazy...in other words a day in the life of the average Finn.

It was at the same cabin that I was at during Juhannus, but you can't really say the experience was the same.

June

October

Thats right, ensilumi (1st snow)! After pulling into the cabin, doing sauna and watching The Shining and Alien, we woke up to snow covered ground. There was even enough to have some fun.

It's like looking into a living snow mirror.

The other films we watched were The Orphanage, a spanish movie presented by Guillermo del Toro. It was pretty good. Then it was The Exorcist.

The weather was not too frigid to be outside though. While you can't call it avanto (ice swimming) since, technically, there was no ice on the lake, the water was cold enough for at least a polar bear merit badge. Despite the warning from my mother, I went in any way, and then ran back to the sauna spewing a slew obscenities that would make even Joe Pesci break a monocle.

Oh well. Puts hair on your chest, builds character, makes you stronger and probably voids the warranty on your heart.

The worst part is the walk to and from the lake. Not only are your feet the 1st in and last out of the literally freezing water but they stick to the dock if you stand there for too long. Which is fine since once you are out of the water, the only thing on your mind is getting back into the sauna.

An Anus Warming Story

2010-10-18T11:17:00.000-07:00

This evening I spent some time with some work mates. It was our work's Hungarian goulash night as one my Hungarian coworkers will be soon departing. The goulash was delicious and once we were all well fed and had a shot of Unicum and a few glasses of red wine in us the conversation turned toward cultural differences. One topic was cooking and the culture of eating in vs. eating out. Then all of a sudden all of the Finns starting saying something that sounded very odd.

"Of course we would all like to cook. Sometimes its just easier to go with an anus."

Thinking I had just misheard, I ignored it.

"Yeah, it really is easy even kids can warm their own anus"

There it was again. Okay lets hear this out...

"Yeah, the microwave has made it so easy to warm an anus"

It was at this point that I had to say something. No one else was batting an eye.

"Excuse me, what is this...anus...word?"

"Eeeiiiineeeesss.....it's like pre-packaged food"

I had to fight so hard to keep back the laughter.

Gaggle = Google Geese

2010-10-07T11:26:00.000-07:00

Rode to work the other day and was amazed by what I saw.

So my commute is a little different from being on the 110 N. moving 5 miles an hour. And these are Canadian geese too. Damn immigrants.

The Fashün Blog

2010-10-05T10:29:00.000-07:00

So like a shit-ton of people have commented on how folks from the Nordic countries have a keen sense of fashion. There is supposedly proof of this on the internet from sites like Hel Looks. I suppose I don't know what the site's mission statement is, but a lot of those outfits are...um...no comment.

And while deep down inside every Helsinkian dreams of being among the lucky few immortally plastered on the net with the rest of those clowns, someone has to show that there are two sides to every story. So I give you The Fashün Blog.

A fashion blog made by, made for and made about people who know nothing about fashion.

Enjoy.

Kwok v. Brock

2010-10-02T09:48:00.000-07:00

I am up to two visits now. D. Kwok, wait no, that is too obvious, Diana K. was kind enough to take a weekend excursion to Helsinki while on her recent trip to London. I met her at the train station and it wasn't all that difficult spotting her as she was probably the only asian in the city. She thought I looked like everyone else...

Right off the bat we went and got some food and after an hour or so of indecisiveness we decided to go to Vegemesta, an all vegetarian burger place. It was obvious that I have been out of the U.S. for too long because I was unable to say "Veggie Burger" and kept on saying "Vegetable Burger". I often ponder what the best burger in Finland is and, frankly, the Kippari is on the "best-of" list. As a fierce carnivore, it is sad to admit that one of the best burgers in town didn't once contain a soul, but there isn't much competition in the burger department here in Finland. Regardless, I think it is pretty tasty.

After that there was the obligatory trip to the Torni bar, the highest bar in the world. That is apparently what I told Diana, but what I meant to say was, "the highest bar in Helsinki", far less impressive. But still, when in a new city it is nice to get high up to see the surroundings from a bird's eye view.

We went off to see the Un-bear-able bears and then after that we hit the bars. We went to Bar Moscow, Rytmi and then stopped off at Siltanen for the night cap before deciding to head home. At home we sipped on single malt whiskey and then I obligated Diana to eat some mämmi that I had in my freezer. I don't think it went over so well even if it was smothered in cream and sugar.

Our plan for the next morning was to head to the flea market but we were much too tired (and hungover) for that. Instead we just went straight to Suomenlinna with a quick stop off in kauppatori.

Suomenlinna was nice as always. There was even a military ship docked there and we could take tours. Here is me grabbing the deck gun as daintily as possible.

On the island we ate soft serve and it was basically like eating a shit load of cool whip. Needless to say my stomach was not happy with me. After suomenlinna it was time to rush off to the design museum. It was meant to close at 6 pm and seeing as we were still at Suomenlinna at 3:30 we really needed to boogie. We got to the design museum, paid our entrance fee, and 15 minutes later we were already back out on the street. In hindsight, I suppose we didn't need to rush. At this point we were on bonus time so we grabbed some coffees and walked until we found a place to eat for the evening. Then more drinks and we headed home early to drink some wine. After consuming some liquid courage we decided to invade the nearby construction sites, not to vandalize or to steal anything, just to see what a "building in progress" looks like.

Then our drunkenness took us to a children's play ground.

On sunday we finally made it to the Valtteri flea market, a 1st for even me, and it was marvelous. I got a 7" vinyl record of old Finnish hymns for 65 cents because I liked the cover and a table cloth, supposedly from the 60's, for 5 euros. After that we went off to see a Love & Anarchy film fest film. It was a series of animated shorts from the Czech Republic. They were hit or miss. The best part of it was that there was a bar INSIDE the theater and we were sitting on a pretty comfy couch. Like being at home. Then it was more beers including some on the steps at Senate Square. A trip to Finland would not be a trip to Finland without street beers.

Monday we decided to go shopping at all the shops that were closed on Sunday. Then it was time to finally get Diana the authentic Finnish food she had been nagging me for like the whole time.

Warm smoked salmon, crawdad and mushroom salad on rye bread from Kauppahalli. We attempted to eat this outside but the seagulls persuaded us otherwise. About 5 seconds outside with a plate of food and I was subjected to just about the closest seagull encounter that I have ever experienced. Any closer and it would have been a repeat of the "pelican incident" from my youth where a seemingly harmless pelican lashed out violently at me and pecked me right in the solar plexus, drawing blood, leading to years of ridicule from my parents and siblings.

Well despite the close encounter with a bag a parasites the food was pretty good. I also enjoyed the peppered cold smoked salmon.

Unfortunately, the time for Diana's departure was creeping ever closer. We decided that coffee and some dessert like pastry would be a good send off. Along with our coffees we shared a slice of apple pie with vanilla sauce on top. We both dreaded saying good-bye but we hid it well as we admired the font on the Fazer café sign.

Much fun was had with Diana while she was in town and I can only hope she enjoyed it as much as I did. I escorted her to the airport bus and in an extremely sudden somber mood I shuffled to my local city bus feeling just about as homesick as I have in the entire year I have spent here so far.

We will always have the seagull attack.

Un-bear-able

2010-09-27T10:07:00.000-07:00

I wanted to call this "You're Not Helping", but I was worried about infringing on the segment from the Daily Show. Right now in Helsinki's Senate Square there is an art exhibition called "United Buddy Bears", which has been a traveling art exhibit for almost 10 years now. First of all, "United Buddy Bears"?, come on! You couldn't have thought of a more schmaltzy name...talk about cheesey...and I think it's limburger.

The exhibit consists of life-size bear sculptures painted by artist representatives from different countries. I think I puked in my mouth a little when I saw the U.S.A. bear.

Like seriously...how long did the artist think about this? Statue Of Liberty, that is pretty half-assed if you ask me. I am all about my home, the U.S.A., but no wonder everyone hates us, I hate us after seeing this. Some guy was given the prompt "Paint a bear in a way that represents the United States" and all he could come up with was the statue of liberty? That is soooo 1886. How about something depicting the U.S. as a cultural melting-pot, or a collage of paintings representing our beloved National Parks. You know, a little more subtle and a lot less cliché. Nope, just blam, fuck you, it's lady liberty.

Here are a few more, Argentina is on the left and I don't recall the other ones. But I don't think the artist did Argentina any favors either. I know I am probably being really ignorant, but it just looked like a smirking photo of Humphrey Bogart, and yet this woman feels the need to rub its belly while she eye-fucks the camera.

But by far the best/worst bear was China.

It's Winnie the Pooh after a few beers and a line of coke. Plus, yellow? really? China? Did you think that through?

The idea behind the art project is to spread tolerance and international understanding in a fun artistic way.

The result was really much more of spring board for culturally insensitive jokes.

Movin' On Up!

2010-09-24T00:39:00.000-07:00

This is pretty late and many of you probably already know about this just from passing conversations but here is a short video to tell you the good news.

Yes, I am, or have already moved on up to the east side (from the even more east side) to a deluxe apartment in the sky. Yes, now I live in a part of town which is pretty much right in the middle between the University and Kallio, the cool, immigrant/hipster, drunkard part of town. The best part about this is that I no longer have to live next door to Archie Bunker, wait I am getting my stories mixed up again...I meant to say Pukey McFuckhead.

I live in the part of town called Arabianranta which is home to the art school and the factory outlet stores for some of Finland's most well known design products, Iitala and Arabia. Not only that, but I'm right near da beach mon.

So I will take you on a tour of my place!

The Grand Foyer

Dining Room and Office

The Kitchen and Living Room

Where The Magic Happens

View from my Window

And my flat even has a recording studio!

Yes I finally got a piece of the pie!

A New Low

2010-09-13T06:05:00.000-07:00

We have all heard me bitch and moan about the food here in Finland. I mean really it's not that it's baaaaad per se, it just that the wealth of culinary variability that you can find in places like, oh I don't know, off the top of my head, Los Angeles, is lacking here. I get by pretty well with my home cooking, which is delicious. But like I said, you have all heard me comment on this matter. This post is going to refer more to my lunch options at the University.

The Uni-Cafes here offer healthy meals meant to satisfy hungry students. I do realize that cooking wholesome, delicious meals for thousands of students while keeping costs low at the same time poses a unique challenge for even the most experienced chef, but sometimes you really have to wonder who came up with some of these meals. The quality of food ranges from edible to disgusting. On rare occasions do I leave the cafeteria feeling that I truly enjoyed what I just ate. I have to dilute the main course with extra helpings of rice sometimes just to choke it down. Why do I eat there? Well I don't have too many other options and well, the price is right.

The chili con carne is more chilly than it should be and the recurring meal, "soya balls in tomato sauce" is just about the most vile thing I have ever tasted. It is like small pieces of dirty dish sponges soaking in a sauce that can only be described as "red and salty". I would be much happier if they just stuck to regular things, like spaghetti or rotisserie chicken. Why bother experimenting with zany recipes when you can't really afford the time necessary to make them edible?

I am pretty much used to this already and don't mind it. I have come to terms that eating at the unicafe serves only one purpose, to kill the hunger pangs that drive us all crazy. But every now and again they blow my mind with the concoctions they come up with. Today I looked at the menu and saw that they were serving "crispy-broiled chicken". That doesn't sound too bad does it?

It was broiled chicken covered in corn flakes.

Returning From Battle

2010-09-06T07:48:00.000-07:00

The air was electric. It was possible that the events of this day could mean the end of the war. Our moods were elated, even giddy, and we were confident about our chances for victory as we rode to the battle grounds in our personnel transporter. But none us were prepared for what we would see.

We returned from battle and, while we were victorious, our moods mirrored something far more sinister. The sights we had seen and the sounds we had heard have no natural place on this planet and they will likely change our lives forever. We suffered few casualties and yet the assimilation back into normal life seems impossible, but goodness we try. What makes man turn into the vile beasts we encountered?

Just another day at IKEA.

In line waiting for the last free bus back to town you could see the horror written on our faces. The excitement we shared upon our arrival was now lost somewhere between the office furniture section and the kitchen goods. My body was weighed down with boxes filled with Scandinavian design furniture and my mind was weighed down with flickers of buyer's remorse. Had I made the right choices? Would the table have been better in white? Do I really need this stainless steel utensil holder? The answers to these questions would lie in the days ahead while dealing with the frustration associated with figuring out how to put all of this crap together while the guy in the instruction manual smirks at you.

I have seen the devil, have you?

When Finland Falls, It Falls Hard

2010-09-02T08:11:00.001-07:00

September is here and it is amazing how quickly the weather turned on us. It seemed that just two weeks ago the sun was burning backs and causing even the most un-perspirable Finn to perspire. School children once roamed these now desolate streets, licking rapidly melting ice-creams and wondering what it is like to be an adult, while the adults, on their way to/from work, longed for times when they could roam the streets with ice-creams and without cares. It is almost as if the government intervened on the summer and said, "Okay, you have had enough of this for one year" and turned down the thermostat to let everyone know that the party was over.

The 30 degree C (86 F) and sunny weather of July and August has been replaced with 13 C (55 F) days with sporadic and unannounced showers. I ride my bike to work and I have started to consider gloves and a beanie for the short but brisk journey. The plants are still green, the sun still sets at a reasonable hour and things won't be miserable and dark for another 2 or 3 months, but don't worry, there is plenty of booze in this country to keep me happy during the darkness.

I suppose that the summer was "too good to be true", in that it was the hottest July Finland has seen in something like a hundred years, so it is about time Finland started acting like Finland and begin giving me chills. This far north, the differences between the seasons are immense and they can seemingly happen over night. Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing is up for debate, but I certainly don't mind it, at least for now.

Autumn is here.

Pukey McFuck-Head Strikes Again

2010-08-29T05:14:00.000-07:00

What is a "normal" person? Defining people and/or behaviors as "normal" or "abnormal" can really get you in trouble these days, just take a look at homosexuality. Proponents for a ban on same sex marriage might use the statement, "It's just not normal" as justification. The definition of "normal" can be very muddy as "normal" and "abnormal" replace words like "right" and "wrong" and become moral judgments rather than statements with more literal meanings like, "more" or "less common". Because of this, one should be careful when they use the word "normal" so as not to convey unintended meanings that could land them in hot water.

Having said that, my use of the word "normal" in the following paragraphs is intended to not only mean "more common" but also I am intentionally adding all other meanings to it. My flat-mate, well my former flat-mate, is NOT normal. Normal people puke in toilets, or failing that, in some sort of bucket or water tight container. When my flat-mate over indulges in spirituous beverages and gets that "pukey-feeling", apparently the 1st location that enters his mind is the shower. The 1st time this happened, while I was not pleased, I kind of let it slide. I talked to him about it and it sounded like a genuine, "look dude I got a little drunk and threw-up". Hey, happens to the best of us, I myself puked in the hallway, mid run to the toilet, during my second week at university.

Our shower is in a completely different room than our toilet so I had to work the logistics of why he ran to that door instead of the correct toilet door, which is equidistant from his room. Eventually I just chalked it up to being drunk and in a hurry, we have all made poor decisions in that situation. So after a week or two, life in our flat returned to its daily operation. No one talked about the puke incident and people kept relatively to themselves, until yesterday. I arrived at my flat to find bits of semi-digested food in the shower...again.

Okay once was acceptable, barely, but not twice. If you are sober enough to get out of bed and run somewhere to puke then you are sober enough to think, "well I shouldn't puke in the shower again like last time". I have tried to like this guy, I even came close to being okay with him on the few occasions that our conversations transcended beyond the point of guttural noises representing anything from greetings to "yes" and "no". I think even Jane Goodall might have had it easier. Well it is amazing how quickly 6 months of progress can go out the window when you are faced with identifying the bits of chewed food on the floor of where you, until recently, bathed.

The apartment was quiet. I stayed clear of that room and continued with my plans. I didn't see him all day. As I cleaned the stove and wiped the kitchen counters (not puke related mess) I fantasized about him puking in his sleep and then choking on it and dying, the only fitting punishment for his crimes.

The Year of the Finngelino

2010-08-24T11:20:00.000-07:00

Well ladies and gentlemen, it has been one year. But before you start singing "Auld Lang Syne" let me say something. My 1st post entitled "The Blog Has Landed" was posted on August 23rd, 2009. Sure, today is the 24th of August, but I needed one day to comprehend it all. I think we should all just take a step back and meditate on what has happened in the last year. It has been quite a journey so far, for me and for you...maybe (HAH!). Thank you so much for reading thus far. I contemplated on why I spent countless hours ignoring my school work to write this. Sure, I wanted to practice the important craft of the written word but, and I'll be frank, I am so dependent on my audience. In my darkest and most cynical hours thoughts like "no one cares" or "no one reads this" floated through my grey matter on a ship with seemingly countless hulls. And always within hours or days, whether it be on the blog, via an email, on chat or in a passing face-to-face conversation, a comment came along like a guardian ice burg to sink that ship, at least until next time it set sail. So thank you.

This is the 1st official blog post of An American Werewolf in Finland: Season 2. Let's just say that I have a few surprises up my sleeve. They are so surprising that I myself don't even know what is going to happen. Plot twists? New characters? Unrequited love? I really have no idea and I shouldn't get all of your hopes up. What I can promise is that I will continue to regale you with my experiences and musings while I navigate familiar and unfamiliar terrain within the BEST MOTHER FUCKING COUNTRY IN THE WORLD (paraphrased from Newsweek) so that you, and others like you, can help usher in the dawn of a new year...The Year of the Finngelino.

Flow: Sunday

2010-08-22T10:08:00.001-07:00

Well, and I am aware that this is a week late, Flow is over. I suppose I just spent the week in denial, "As long as I don't write about the end of the festival it will stay alive in all of us". A more plausible explanation, however, would be that I was 1/3 tired, 1/3 lazy and 1/3 busy. But, better late than never so here we go!

With the best, busiest and longest day behind me already, Sunday promised to be more low key: less running around and more relaxing with friends. Sunday already had the cancellations of Mulatu Astatke and Sigur Ros's Jonsi working against it, but I tried to go in with my chin up. I walked in on Ricky-Tick Big Band doing their big band thing. It was pretty much exactly what you would expect. I witnessed a few songs but was not really in the mood so I went off to the tent stage.

Sweden's Radio Dept. was performing in the tent stage and they came highly recommended from multiple sources. The songs were pretty much hit or miss but there was something that really bugged me about the set. They played decent music to the backing of an electronic beat, and I don't have too much a problem with that, except that on most of the songs the electronic beat was nothing a live drummer couldn't play. I think it would have been much better with a live drummer.

The Girls were the talk of all the internet blogs when they released their album. Me, I just couldn't see what the hype was all about. I mean yeah it was catchy but, I mean it wasn't anything to write home about. So after not being able to get into the songs after a couple listens I moved on to bigger and better things. But it didn't stop me from checking them out at the Tent Stage. And to be honest, I though they played really well and I was not bored at all during the set. I am definitely going to have to revisit their music, because it actually did seem pretty good live. Sometimes it takes a live show to make a band or an album work for you, and I guess this was a good example.

Then we relaxed in the "back yard" listening to a DJ spin old rock'n'roll classics that had been translated into Finnish, a common practice in that era. We heard songs like "My Boy Lollipop" and "Lets Twist Again". All the songs were oddly familiar but all in Finnish and all the Finns knew the words. "I should know this, I should be able to sing along". It was uncomfortably awesome. Either way, everybody was on their feet twisting and sometimes shouting.

Then we ran off the main stage to catch the set by Caribou. I was not too familiar with this Canadian group, just a few songs, but I was really impressed. Catchy danceable riffs and driving drum beats. Watching them play really made me miss beating the skins, and no I don't mean masturbating. Just awesome drumming.

Since Mr. Jonsi "Whaa I Broke My Hand" McGee cancelled his performance The XX took over the headlining position. To be be honest I was not all that bothered by Jonsi's cancellation so letting The XX close out the festival suited me fine. Having had Sleigh Bells make my ear drums feel like virgins again the night before, The XX's more mellow and soothing sound was a good way to end the weekend. Their subsonic bass lines made my rib cage rattle and the interplay between vocals of Romy Croft and Oliver Sim worked perfectly. It is always nice to see successful male/female combos.

And just as fast as it started, the festival ended. Tomorrow was the beginning of another work week. "Real life" was aboard the express train and the next stop was my head. All of a sudden getting home to get some rest was my main priority. I bid my fellow concert goers farewell and was off biking the darkened streets of Helsinki back to my humble room in Viikki. The Festival was now a collection of photos, memories, and well, this and probably a million other blogs. Now I can't wait until next August.