Gulliver's Travels

This past tuesday evening (Feb. 21st), I returned from a three day trip to Finland. The best way to get to Finland from Tallin is by ferry. It only takes up to 3 hours and is really cheap. In the winter you sail through ice too! Basically the entire Gulf of Finland freezes over a little. I was sure that the water would freeze around us or we would hit an iceberg, but this did not happen and we safely arrived in Helsinki, where I discovered that I was perhaps one of maybe 100 tourists actually visiting Finland this time of year.

At first I intended to spend the entire time in Helsinki, however after completing my thourough tour of the city in 1 day only, I decided to take a trip on my final day to Turku. (For those of you that know me well and my "super tourist" abilities, seeing all of the sites of a european capital in one day is not an impossible thing for me to accomplish. Besides, it was a monday and all of the museums were closed). Turku is the Midieval capital of Finland, so there's a lot of history, a castle, and a 14th centruy cathedral....pretty cool stuff. Now the amazing thing about southern Finland is that it is an archapelago...lots of islands. In the winter, the shallow water between them freezes, and you can walk from island to island...like jesus, except the water is solid, and no one is fishing. I walked on a lake too.

Cool natural phenomena aside, Helsinki would have been nicer in warm weather I think because you can appreciate all of the islands and beauty mother-earth provides...and so on. In the winter, everything is white...including some of the buildings (very hard to take photographs of these). In Turku, however, I fell in love. Its a very quaint college-town with a river running through the center. On the eastern end is the grand catherdal and the western end Turku Castle. Commercial centers, parks, museums, an academy and boat-restraunts fill the center. There's also a train station...that's how I got there. In addition, they also had two H&M's, my favorite clothing store. Having not seen one in almost 8 months, I decided to go on a little shopping spree ;) One other place I decided to visit was Kasityolaismuseo (its missing some dots), the open-air museum. Here's the description in my guidebook: features traditional crafts people at work. I thought, "oh cool...maybe i will see some wood-working, glass-blowing, or weaving and perhaps buy a hand-made craft". Shortly, I will explain how wrong I was.

To give you an idea of the significance of the following events, I had exactly six hours to spend in Turku. I completed Helsinki in 8-9hrs, so I figured I could handle it. I started looking for the handicrafts museum about two hours into my day, and almost three hours later finished, leaving me about an hour to do a little less than half of the other things I planned. My map was wrong. It placed the museum on the correct street, but the wrong building. After finding the small, poorly marked street, I saw a building with the sign "museum" on it and an arrow. I decided to go inside this building....there were people living there. I got barked at by a dog, and stared at oddly by a woman baking in her kitchen. I wanted to see artisans at work, not walk through peoples houses.

So after exploring the entire street, I finally found a small sign pointing up a hill to the museum. Nary a single person was crafting there. It was the type of open-air museum where you view how life WAS when people made their own things....basically walking through peoples houses. There were no wood-workers, glass-blowers, or weavers to be found, just tiny little finnish women. I paid one for my ticket, still hoping that I would find someone widdling a piece of soap or something. Well...a tour had just started, but unfortunatley it was being given in Finnish. At this point, I realized that not only was I one of the few tourists in Finland, but probably the only native-english speaking one. So I decided to get a map of the grounds and explore on my own. This was not to be.

How the museum works, is there are courtyards. You enter the yard and go into a house, if its door is open, or there is a key in the closed door (not a lock...i was confused about this for awhile). You open the door, and look inside to see little furnishing and pottery wheels as they would have been back in the day. Every once in awhile, you opened a door and found a tiny, old Finnish woman...who is quite possibly the only person who would actually fit into these small homes and workshops. I have never hit my head on so many door frames. Well, after exiting the first courtyard, I was stopped by one of these Finnish Lilliputians who somehow new I was an English speaker. (Seriously, they are smaller than grandma ;) She took a liking to me for some reason. Perhaps it was because to her I seemed so freakisly tall. Maybe she thought I was cute, but I think it was probably because I was the only one not on the tour. She took me back into the same court yard and explained (in very very broken english) how the open doors and key/lock system worked.

It was very nice of her to be my personal tour guide, however, the woman meant business. She would not let me rush through anything. After showing me a courtyard, she would leave me to explore. If i returned to her too soon, she would make me go back and do it all over again until she was satisfied I that I looked at everything properly. Mom, you would be happy to know that I did not rush through a single part of it...I wasn't allowed. In fact, at one point I wanted to leave one of the tiny houses, and she grabbed my arm to show me a small 3-D painting on the wall. The picture changed depending on how you looked at it, and she took me to all 3 spots to view it. In retrospect, I appreciate her enthusiasm, but at the time I felt a little ridiculous. Well...even though it was not a very large museum, I spent quite a lot of time there seeing and learning how crafts WERE made. I didn't buy anything. At the end of my stay, I heartily thanked my pint-sized guide and returned to the world of normal-sized objects. About half an hour later, I slipped and fell on some ice and bruised my right rear-cheek... A statistical update:

Number of countries I've visited so far: 2
Number of times I've wiped out on the ice: 3
Number of countries where I've wiped out on the ice: 2
Number of people who have witnessed my wiping out on the ice: 2 (this is the luckiest part of all) I have been fortunate enough to only fall with close friends or alone :)

So now I am back in Estonia. Luckily, the ice is beginning to melt, and the people are proportionate to everyday surroundings. It's nice to be back.

Eesti Clap

Now kids...today in health class we're going to discuss a very sensitive subject....okay I'll stop the gross play on words there. I am much more interested in the cultural phenomenon that is how Estonians shower affection on musical performers. Over the last three and a half months, I have attended quite a number of concerts, and never cease to be amazed at the level of gratuity shown by Estonian concert-goers. Three specific instances stick out in my mind, and I would like to share them with you all:

1. My friend John and I went to see the Moscow State Chamber Choir concert about three and a half weeks ago. Honestly, I was a little nervous about how an all-Russian concert would go over in a post-Soviet nation where memories are long and wounds run deep, especially when a very tall and sparkly Russian woman began talking to the audience in the way I always imagined Stalin or Lenin addressed the masses in Red Square. Behind her was quite possibly the most intimidating and serious-looking choir I had ever seen. You wouldn't want to meet these singers in a dark alley, not too mention that each woman's hair-cut was more severe and rigid than the next. Hurricane Katrina wouldn't have tossed a single strand out of place. The concert was breath-taking. At times, I noticed my mouth was dry because it had been hanging open in amazement at the excellence of each song. I nearly wept at one point, nevering even having a clue as to what they were saying/singing. There were no programs, but from what I could gather, the evening was made up of traditional Russian folk-tunes/hymn, national songs, as well as Classical Russian literature. After each number it was as though the audience applause couldn't possibly get any louder, yet it would. At the end of the concert, the hall suddenly began to shake. I realized that it was because the Estonians were now stomping their feet to accompany the roar of the applause. This lead to two curtain calls for the choir. As is customary, someone in the performance recieves flowers at the end of the concert: the conductor, pianist, everyone in a small ensemble. If the composer of a piece is present, they will receive a flower. Flower giving is a serious thing here. It only got more absurd from here. After the choir's second departure, the "slow clap" began, and everyone joined. Soon, the entire audience was clapping in unison, demanding an encore...and they were obliged. Apparently there weren't that many hard feelings towards the Russians, at least not that night.

2. Three days ago, I went to see Chanticleer, an all-male choral ensemble from San Fransisco. They were amazing, nearly flawless. Aside from their impeccable execution, it was really nice to hear peices I recognized, standard American repretoire, as well as many international pieces. After my concert with the Moscow State Chamber Choir, I was pretty sure I had seen the pinnacle of Estonian esteem. This evening, however, the audience did not even let Chanticleer leave for intermission without a second curtain call. I'm not even sure if you can encore the first half of a concert. I think that's actually just called...the second half. Well...this only minorly assuaged the Estonian enthusiasm. After the first piece of the second half, the concert-quakes began. With over 1/3 of the concert to go, the foot stomping had already begun. I was in for a long concert. In good, American fashion, Chanticleer ended the concert with an up-beat spiritual. It's like they were asking for an encore. Well, they got it...two of 'em. Before their first encore, they all recieved their customary flower, which they accepted very grasciously. They thanked the audiece for their wonderful time in Estonia and acknowledged them as one of the best audiences in the world. For their second encore they actually sang an Estonian piece. This sealed their fate. The audience was up on it's feet. Not that their Estonian was particularly good; I could hardly tell that they were even singing in Estonian, but I don't think many foreign choirs dare to attempt this. Well after some whooting and hollering, Chanticleer left the stage again, returned for a third curtain call, and I believe a fourth. Always leave them wanting more I guess is the plan as they declined a third encore, and thus the concert ended. Like the Cold War, Olympic Hockey, and landing a man on the moon, it looks like the Americans beat the Russians yet again ;)

3. Two nights ago, I went to a small vocal concert held in the Town Hall. The audience numbered about 35. The pianist accompanying the singer was fantastic, and the singer was good, but she had some flaws. This did not stop the small, but mighty audience. I guess one moral of the story is you can't beat the home team on their own field. Aside from two curtain calls before intermission, she recieved two more at the end, and ran out of encores to sing. What was most amazing however, was the sheer volume of foliage she and the pianist accumulated. I think my two friends and I were the only ones not to have brought something. Apparently we didn't get the memo. When thirty-five people bring you flowers, that's alot of plant. After singing and playing their hearts out, they amassed quite a garden. I honestly can't imagine concerts getting more ridiculous than these three, however I've been amazed each time at the level of gratitude shown by music-lovers here. I'm very excited to see what happens next!

*Pics: http://www.tituslabs.com/OAL%20Applause.jpg