The following is a slightly edited version of the travelogue I wrote in July 1999 relating my trip to Finland and Brussels.
Finland, Finland, Finland
The country where I quite want to be
Your mountains so lofty
Your treetops so tall
Finland, Finland, Finland
Finland has it all
Nothing like a Monty Python song to start off this particular travelogue, especially when it's so much more funny after you've been to the place.
Where to begin, where to begin.
How about New York?
On June 14 I woke up in the PM and realized I needed to get to New York and thereafter prepare for the trip the next day that would send me over the Pond for the first time in my sorry life.
Staggering out of bed, I opened the door to my little closet and rummaged about for the green Samsonite duffel I had purloined from my sister back in 1996 the first time I went to China.
Then I remembered I had used it to stuff twenty-odd library books to return while my sister was in town with a rent-a-car. And I remembered never taking it out of that car.
So, after three years of service, my sister had retrieved what was hers, and I was out of a duffel and in need of leaving the city in hours. [editor's note: Melissa never took the bag out of the car so it was actually lost forever.]
I hit Trailblazer on Broadway in the little bit of town that is the center of Yale's undergraduate nearby social life and purchased a duffel bag, then went home and stuffed it with a few shirts, a couple of pants, a pair of boots, boxers and socks, and the least number of toiletries I could manage.
By eveningtime I had arrived at Grand Central Station in New York City, checked my bag, and met Nisha for a bit of dinner. A few hours later I was awake again, trudging through Park Slope in Brooklyn looking for the subway station that would lead me to the airport.
It took a few doublebacks and some switching before I got on the right train. I got to JFK a little over thirty minutes after Kim had arrived at Terminal 8 from the red eye that left LA five hours before. She was waiting and almost worried.
We took a cab back to Manhattan and checked her bag at GCT with mine, then went to the Carnegie Deli to share a rather monstrous Reuben sandwich which the two of us could only get down to a third its original size.
A subway ride found us in Soho, where we got an assortment of tea for Katri's grandmother from Dean and DeLuca's. We made sure to shove in stuff like Liberty Tea and Grandma's Back Porch Lemon Tea to make it American, but couldn't help the Earl Gray and Oolong house leaves.
Then we took the subway back to GCT and retrieved my duffel and her twice-the-size-of-mine duffel. It doesn't matter how hard I pack light, I end up carrying the heavier piece of baggage.
The shuttle service to Newark International Airport was ontime and not half-bad. There, I put in a call to my mother, saying goodbye. Then to Nisha, saying we might need her apartment as a place to crash on the 22nd when we got back. Afterwards we sat at the terminal waiting to board.
The flight was Delta Airlines affiliated, but run by Sabena, a Belgian carrier since 1923. We were wondering what it would be like. Minutes before boarding, I remembered promising to phone Kiddie before leaving and left a note on her machine that went along the lines of, "Hey, just remembered I promised to call before leaving, whoops, we're boarding, send you a postcard, then, bye."
And then I was on the plane.
The film was "The Nephew," a British film about Ireland with Pierce Brosnan in it. Not half bad. Sentimental, but cute.
We hit Brussels, Belgium in the early morning. With only an hour before our transfer, we sat in the terminal. Kim spotted a Delveaux shop and had an orgasm. She found a purse for her friend Alex, which was apparently a quarter of the price in the States. I told her to stall till the return flight, since there might be time to explore the city on that layover.
The two hour flight to Helsinki was nice. The plane was only a quarter full and we could take up as much space as we wanted. At this point I realized three good things about Sabena: their economy seats are about an inch and a half to two inches wider than American carriers; they give you extra hot bread like anything; and the alcohol is free even in economy.
The captain mentioned we were landing, and Kim and I looked out the window. I saw no city. All I saw were lakes and trees. The occasional house dotted the landscape, but that was pretty much it. I guess the city was on the other side.
Customs was easy. Fifteen seconds, max.
Peter, Katri's dad, picked us up and we got in this little purple-colored Ford rental and set off for Muijala, the little town about 45 minutes away from Helsinki. I got a history and geography lesson on Finland that day.
There are no mountains in Finland. Don't believe them Monty Python boys.
The entire landscape was made flat by glaciers of long ago, and all they've got is lakes and eskers, the edges of the glaciers – long snake-like embankments that now serve as good resources for sand and a place to put a road.
We got to this farm sitting on a good couple of acres under Katri's grandmother's deed, settled in, and realized just how nice everything was. The weather was pristine, and the scenery was unbelievable. I'll have pictures to show on my website soon enough. I brought six rolls of film and used up five and a half.
Kim and I got stationed in the study, where a little couch could be laid out to make a bed. It would be tight, but it would serve. At least neither of us were bed hogs. Okay, Kim is… a little. =)
Then Peter took the two of us to the town of Lohja, where Kris, Katri, and Katri's mother were doing a bit of shopping. We found them in a cafe, and I walked up, sat down, and told Kris it was pretty easy to spot his arse in flannel in this neck of the world.
There was a good round of patting and hugging and good-to-see-you's, even if we'd seen each other back in April for the first wedding in San Jose, California.
We all went back to the farm and Katri's cousins, Mintu and Pisku showed up. The names accent the first syllable and the 'i's are long. Meentu and Peesku would be English phonetic. I think I've mentioned to some that Finnish has no relationship with Scandanaivian languages and in fact is distantly related to Korean. Well, now I have to all of you.
The young folk all got in a couple of cars and drove to Otala. This is my guess on the spelling. Phonetics would be Awt'halla, I suppose. It's Mintu and Pisku's family's summer house and part of the grounds where Katri's mother Leena (double vowel here is pronounced Lehhhhna) was born.
The cottage was small and next to this large lake. A path led to a little dock and on the ground near the dock sat a rowboat and a canoe. Kris and I got in the canoe. We displayed our unnerring lack of coordination with each other's rowing skills, but did manage to get across the lake and back with no problems.
Mintu produced a frisbee, since Katri had mentioned my recent fascination with the sport. We tossed that about then realized two apparently basic things about Finnish countrysides: nettles and mosquitoes.
You'd think a place so high up there wouldn't have mosquitoes, but I don't think I've seen that many since I was a little boy in the Philippines in my father's hometown in Isabella.
Then Pisku intorduced Finnish baseball. There's an odd way to pitch and bat.
Mintu comes up minutes later and mentions that the sauna is ready.
The Finnish invention does not just involve sitting in a room sweating yourself to death. I got a firsthand bit of education sitting in there with Kris in his trunks, me in my boxers since no one had bothered to inform me to bring trunks. Then Pisku entered in her bathing suit and shoved two scoops of water on the furnace. I never knew my face could truly feel like it was melting off my face till that moment.
80 degrees centigrade and Kris decided it was time for the second part.
This entailed jumping in the lake.
So he jumped, and the old question of 'if he jumped, would you?' was answered by myself with a slightly delayed but very energetic yes.
We then returned to the sauna, then jumped in again, then got dressed and had barbecued pork chops for a late dinner. It was about 10pm, I think, but Finland being up so high and the summer solstice drawing near, well, it never got truly dark – maybe a few minutes around 1am, but not really.
And that was my first day in Finland.
The second day was more relaxed. I woke up early to go with Peter and Kris to Helsinki. The jetlag was getting to me but I was doing all right. Kim was still unconscious. We were there to pick up Katri's pregnant sister Johanna, her husband Mike, and his sister Candace. I was there because they needed to register me at the rent-a-car place so I could drive. I am, after all, the best man.
Then Johanna wanted to go into the city for a bit. So we did, and walked about the docks at the people's market. There were guards all over one end since Madeline Albright was apparently visiting with the Finnish president and Russian ambassador concerning affiars down in Kosovo.
Then we returned to Muijala and there was another round of hugs and good-to-see-yous.
The afternoon found us at the church in Lohja. Here, a 14th century church, formerly Catholic, now Lutheran (official Finnish religion, I think) stood in the center of town. Old murals recently restored gave the place an old, authentic, and very spiritual feel. I quite liked it.
The murals were depictions from the Bible, since commoners were not allowed to read they had the pictures in the church to tell them the timeless stories.
There were quite a few beheadings and impailings among them.
We practiced the ceremony, the minister, a young man of German descent who had come to Finland for the church, spent close to two hours chatting with Kris and Katri about their lives so he could prepare something special to say at the ceremony. I spent the time taking pictures. [editor's note: Kim took my Stylus and also took some pictures.]
The church was surrounded by gravestones, the town cemetery growing up around the building. On the grounds were Katri's great-grandparents and some of her grandparents. This was her family's church.
We went for gelatto afterwards.
Mintu and Pisku showed up again in the eveningtime (which looked like 3pm) and with them was Teemo (Tehhhhmo), Mintu's boyfriend. We four went with those three and also Johanna jumped in cars and headed back to Helsinki to catch a movie.
Would you believe I saw Life Is Beautiful in Italian subtitled in Finnish and Swedish? Good thing I saw it before. Johanna was busy translating important parts to Kris throughout the movie.
And that ended my second day in Finland.
The third day was Friday, the day before the confirmation or church wedding. Again I was awake early while Kim was out like a light. This was both by accident and by necessity. I had been waking up at 6am regardless, but needed to get up early the day before and on this day because of my duties on Saturday. Kim got up anyway because she wanted to come with. So the core four, Kris, Katri, Kim, and myself, got into the car and Peter drove us again to Helsinki.
The boys needed tuxes, the girls just wanted to come along.
After the measurements, we went to have breakfast in this famous little delicatessen while the suits were being altered. Peter then asked Katri to pick out some flowers for her mother. Everyone had forgotten it was Peter and Leena's 32nd anniversary the day before, and he meant to remind her with flowers before she reminded herself and got in a mood.
We returned to Muijala and the flowers were presented. A little romantic scene occurred and then we had lunch. Then Kris, myself, and Peter went out into the forest and harvested a few birches and three enormous 6 feet by 6 feet bagfuls of birch leaves. They were for the reception.
At 5pm we drove over to Mintu and Pisku's home where Katri's aunt and their mother, Tutte (Toot-teh) prepared refreshments. They had prepared a bit of a pre-marriage adventure for the couple in which much of the family was going to attend. A lot of Finns were in that house waiting. Relatives numbering close to fifteen were smiling and beaming and definitely waiting to get on with the show.
Orienteering.
They gave the couple a map dotted with X marks and a compass and sent them off to figure it out. We followed. At the first X they had to assemble a pup tent together while we watched. The second X was over a bit of cliff. A game of trust was played, where Kris and Katri had to trust in their friends and family as they lifted them off the ground and turned them over on their long axis. It was so much fun, Mike and Peter did it, then myself and Kuppi. Yes, yes, we were also jeered into it and our machismo got the better of us. Whatever. At the third X they had to get some lake water, pull some leaves off a tree, and make some tea. Mintu's boyfriend Teemo showed us all that he was a woodsman, a scout, one of those guys. Kim christened him 'Mountain Man.' You have to say it with a bit of a jingle to get the idea.
Teemo taught them how to make wisp'o'whistles, or whatever the hell you call 'em. He had three knives with him, all very well used. Scary.
Then the party moved to another relative's house, and here, Kris, Mike, and myself got to join the Finnish men in a major sauna fest. Naked men sweating. There was no dock at the lake so we waded in. Prior to going in, I was on my way out of the sauna when I heard a slipping and sliding of skin – Kris skidded across the floor, hydroplaning on his sweat as his naked arse twirled frictionless towards me. I helped him up and couldn't help grinning that wonderful grin that says, 'Glad it was not me.'
After the lake swim we pulled out some beers and went back in. Ah, yes, beer in the sauna – fun. Then the sauna was done with and we were out on the little porch. A flask of Finlandia was also present, and swigs were taken to quicken to the inevitable.
Then we joined the womenfolk up at the longhouse where a barbecue was going on. I got wonderfully plastered and Leena considered me the happiest boy in the world. [editor's note: I remember a long table filled with all varieties of food and feeding everything on my plate to the dog.]
The day of the wedding, I was up early again. But went back to bed because I could.
Got dressed, went to the flower shop, got a wreath stuck on my lapel.
The ceremony was wonderful. In Finnish, mostly, but wonderful. Later I heard that what the minister said about the couple was so touching and warmfelt, everyone was deeply moved. I stood erect in my coattails and did my small part of presenting the ring. Again.
A family friend sang a John Denver love song in Finnish. Trained for the opera, it was a grand, grand piece.
They walked out and people threw rice at them. One aunt got Katri with a lump right in the nose. Ah, those Finns.
Then we took a drive for about forty-five minutes while the guests relocated to the reception to greet them. As best man, I drove the entire time.
We drove around the lake by Lohja and then pulled into the reception hall's driveway. Everyone was standing outside, waving.
Then everyone filed in and lined up along the tables. The birches were missing, they had apparently dried up and were useless. But otherwise things looked good.
Champagne glasses were already filled, and Peter introduced my to the throng. I stepped up to the front, held the mike, and decided the short speech I gave last time deserved some extension in Finland, land where speeches could last up to two hours or more if you wanted. I spent ten minutes, roasting Kris only a little bit, the closest thing to risque being a memory of second year at UCLA when I said, "Katri would go over to Kris' room all the time. She'd just show up and stay till the next… class."
Then there was the dinner, then a cake was presented to Katri's grandmother since that day was also her birthday.
There was no dancing. Katri had caught the flu from California by way of her parents, and she had a headache and a bit of fever.
Mintu, Pisku, and their and Katri's uncle Pekka played their violins/viola, which made everyone happy. Pisku is the youngest member of Lohja's philharmonic and intends to make it a carrer. At 16, she's doing really, really well.
The opera singer sang again, then later sang with Marco, another trained opera singer, in a duet. Finns love to sing… good thing they sing well. Not at all like those asian karaokes. =)
The cutting of the cake was the best part of the entire bit for me.
She was standing there, Kris holding her hand, when Pisku said something in Finnish. Katri stopped before the knife was in the cake, looked bewildered, then went up to her dad and asked her a question. Then she ran back to her seat and put on her shoes, which she'd taken off as brides often do during dinnertime when no one can see under the table.
Then they were back again, and by this time Pisku had explained it to me what was going on. I was grinning from ear to ear, my camera at the ready.
As the knife hit the bottom of the plate, cutting through the cake, Katri's leg went up and slammed down hard on the floor, making a loud firecracker noise.
The hall erupted in laughter and clapping. I was shooting a picture. Kris looked very, very confused.
Old Finnish wedding tradition, it was explained to me. The first of the couple to stamp the floor after the cake is cut has his or her spouse under their foot. Now it was already well-known to all of us that Kris was whipped and a tamed puppy-dog. This just made it official.
There was more singing. I spoke with Marco and learned his wife was the elder sister of the second wife to the father of Linus Torvalds, which would make it five to six degrees of separation from Linux man and myself.
Then the evening was over and there ended my fourth day in Finland.
Sunday, the fifth day, we got up late and went into Lohja to buy some toys. I wanted a professional Sportdisc frisbee and Kris was going for a foam baseball bat. We found the bat and messed with it for a while back at the farm.
Then we went over to Mintu and Pisku's. Katri's aunt was going to give them a painting for a wedding gift and wanted them to pick it out of a gallery near their house. Then we hung out with them, had some black currant juice, ice cream and waffles, and played Finnish Trivial Pursuit.
We realized just how bad we were at Finnish history and geography. And the sports category was biased as well, with questions like 'This Finnish player joined the San Diego Sharks in 1995' et cetera et cetera.
The Americans lost. Twice.
Not even close.
Then we went home, played baseball for a bit till around a half hour past midnight (how does anyone tell what time it is in that place!?) then went to bed.
Monday was my last full day.
We went to Helsinki by bus, and I found an Ultrastar frisbee at a sport store. Went to all the famous parts, bought some souvenirs, then we hung out at the little park and Kris and I messed with the frisbee for a bit.
Then we went back to Muijala to have a barbecue.
It started to rain.
Kris and I were sent out to build the grill and prepare the fire. We did this with umbrellas over our heads, wondering where everyone else was. I decided we needed beer, so Katri and I got in the car and raced to the grocery store.
There, we ran into her aunt Tutte and Pisku. They helped us pick out some Czech and Finnnish beers, all in 0.5L bottles, and I said goodbye and back we went to the farm.
Kris demanded a beer the instant we arrived.
The fire was nice and hot, the sausages were getting shoved on the grill, and I was getting a quick buzz out of finishing off 0.5L of 6.5% alcohol beer in under ten minutes. Inside, Katri's mom was making steak.
Over dinner, Peter wondered how his 16-year-old god-daughter and her mother, both non-drinkers (one from age and one from whatever), knew what to pick out in the beer section of a grocery. Katri and I shrugged, but had to admit that the selection was very, very nice.
Then there was this old episode of Magnum, P.I. on TV and I passed out at around 2am.
The sixth day in Finland – departure.
Kim and I packed, had breakfast, and Peter and Leena were to drive us to the airport. Kim at this point had finally caught the flu Katri had caught from her parents. It was going to be a rough flight for her. We said our goodbyes. I said goodbye to Katri's grandmother, 90 years old and going strong. She welcomed me back and I wished it would be soon.
I had not been as relaxed as in those five days for close to two years.
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.
You're so sadly neglected
And often ignored,
A poor second to Belgium,
When going abroad
Odd how I seem to be hitting the places mentioned in a Monty Python song.
We got on the plane and hit Brussels International at around 1:30pm local time. The connecting flight was six hours from then. We passed through customs, checked-in for our boarding passes, then hopped on the train to the city. [editor's note: we actually stumbled upon the Manneken Pis but at the time I was just laughing that it was a fountain with a statue of a pissing boy, completely missing the cultural significance of the thing!]
Brussels.
We did the streetside cafe with meal and beer, strolled through old cobblestone streets and gazed at old buildings. We saw bits of what could only be a Chinatown, then hopped back on the train to the airport. It was a good little jaunt.
On the way back I loaded up on bread and watched 'Shakespeare in Love.' Not half bad, but still, best picture?
We got into New York a little before nine in the evening, I contacted Nisha and we were at her place in an hour. Kim left for JFK the next morning and four hours later I was with Nisha on the subway to Manhattan.
At 11am I was on board the MetroNorth, feeling oddly out of sync. I had bought a book at the store in GCT and bent down to read it. An hour later, I stared up and saw the ad facing me in the train. I thought it was very American in humor.
Then I realized where I was.
Geography shock is odd. It felt weird being back, and as I got off the bus at the corner of Whitney and Humphrey, a hundred yards away from my computer terminal inside my apartment, everything felt odd.
For a week abroad, the change in my disposition is remarkable. Something definitely was different, though I'm sure in the coming hours it will dissipate and become something vague that I can hardly place or come to think of.
So there is that and I am done. I need to pick up my mail at the department. I think my old used copy of This Perfect Day which I ordered from Amazon is finally in after five months on order. That and some frisbees. Plus I need to drop off some film for developing.
Then it's time to get ready to move out again, and to make plans for the coming six months of my life.
For all my joking to Katri, I have to say, I really, really like her native country, if only because the events that brought me there and the atmosphere I encountered brought to me a state of mind I have not had for a long, long time.
There's all of it in a rather big chunk.
I'm done.
