M is for Malmi

« The red and green neon Malmintori Saloon directly across from the Foreigner's police station. If you don't need a drink when you enter, you most certainly will by the time you leave. The station used to be downtown, but last year they moved it to Malmi which has to be in the top 10 list of most depressing places in Helsinki. »

I bought a copy of Suomesta, rakkaudella a week or two ago when I was cruising through Akateeminen looking for another book. I was surprised to see that both the English and the Finnish versions are included in the same book. The 24 euro cover price was a bit steep, but I was curious and thought I'd give it a try since Herr Schatz isn't much older than I am and moved here almost 20 years ago so I figured he'd have a whole host of amusing vignettes for those of us who are still rather new to Finland. I must admit that I was disappointed by the book mostly because it's a fairly brief collection of essays on well trodden topics without much depth, the opposite of what I was expecting to find. I also must have been reading too much Tom Wolfe, Neal Stephenson and Joe Queenan recently as I found the English a bit too straightforward and plain.

I'm not sure who the audience for the book is as it likely will only be sold in Finland and I don't think too many Finns are going to be so curious about what a foreigner thinks of Finland to pay 24 euro for a small paperback book that covers the usual topics and can be read in about 20 minutes while hanging around the stacks. Some of the new arrivals to Finland may be tempted, but the sarcasm in much of the writing is really only appreciated after they have been here for a year or more. And those of us who have been here long enough to appreciate the humour have already been there, done that.

I suppose that I was hoping for a personal narrative or collection of stories about the author's own experiences from being an expat in Finland for two decades instead of something more closely resembling a travel brochure for the long-term tourist. After the meltdown of the expat bulletin board which I dubbed the wailing wall, where commiseration in our collective alien condition was very rare, I had optimistically anticipated something different that might mix much of the personal struggle of being a foreigner in this country with a bit of humourous observations and anecdotes to lend a genuine and intimate picture of what it is to actually live here rather than cover the usual tedious bits about sisu, sauna and santa. Leaving the land you once called home for another, no matter what the reason, is rarely just a 'change of scenery' and far more than just moving house, finding out where they sell the peanut butter and learning the local clichés. Vera has been here nearly 10 years and I enjoy her frank and honest tales about the Finnish condition. It's easy to be isolated here well beyond what you might expect when moving to a strange land and a book full of breezy humour is not quite up to the task of bridging that chasm.

In spite of my disappointment, the author has some very good advice, primarily that if foreigners intend to stay in Finland they should learn the language or be forever a tourist in their own home. Sadly, I don't think those who need that particular clue the most will be reading his book. The book also has a talented illustrator, Maarika Autio, whose stylized pen and ink drawings add a bit of comic relief to the text. There is one essay where Schatz lists ten bits of survival advice to the new arrivals and one bit piqued my curiosity enough to go around asking people to count to five on a hand.

Learn to eat ice-cream in winter. Learn to speak while breathing in. When counting with your fingers, start with the little one [pinky].

Not one of my victims started with the pinky, except Jarkko, so I'm wondering if this is a trait of the over-30-something set as most of the people at work are a bit younger than Jarkko. Perhaps it was taught only in schools in the late 60s in some parts of the country? It's weird and obscure oddities like this that I find interesting.

There is one thing I will not forgive Herr Schatz for and that is contained in the description of how to make Carelian Pies:

Wrinkle the edges of each pie to make it look like an aging Carelian vagina.

Jarkko wondered if he had heard of some colourful Finnish joke that also makes this association and after 20 years I suspect he has even though the Finnish half of the book doesn't mention it. You know, I used to love those little warm pies, but now all I can think about when I see them in the bakery is a gunky vagina in desperate need of some Vagisil™. Erk.