My mother's family came from Finland. My grandmother came from the Swedish side of Finland, a little town called Kokkola, she spoke Finnish, Danish, Swedish, and later English. My grandfather was born in a small village, called Parkkala on the Finland, Russian border. He spoke both Finnish and Russian before he immigrated to Oregon at the turn-of-the-century.
In 1972 I visited Finland, we flew north to the small town of Savonlinna. I was driven by a guide to the Russian border. I did not know at that time that I was within a few miles of my grandfathers farm. I will never forget what the guide told me as we stood looking out at the border. It was a chilly almost snowy May morning. We were looking at a scene that very much resembled a Christmas card with pine trees, lakes and some small stone buildings. She started telling me a little about World War II.
My guide pointed to a pine tree and said to me, we stopped the Russians at that tree!
I was speechless. Not we stopped the Russians in this area or at this building, but at this very tree. It was so poignant I've never forgotten.
It was clear to me that in 1972 that the Russians were very much a threat to Finland. They were bombarded with propaganda via radio at that time. Finnish people I spoke to were all pro-American, they wanted to know everything I can tell them about my country. They especially wanted to know what was happening on their favorite American television programs.
Oh, I left out one other fun tidbit. Late in the afternoon I was taken to the factory my husband was visiting. My female guide took me into a large indoor swimming pool. We went into a small dressing room, where she proceeded to take off all of her clothes. I had no choice but to follow suit, so to speak.
She was telling me that this was going to be a great treat, I would be experiencing a real sauna. What she meant was that I was going to be roasted slowly at a very high temperature, chuckle. It was extremely hot, to say the least. When I was lobster red, we showered, and jumped into the pool, swam a lap, then she handed me a drink called cloudberry wine. We returned to the sauna and repeated the process two more times. The whole time I'm hoping, no praying that no one joins us in this fun treat. I'm also thinking that I'm going to kill my new husband for getting me into this situation.
That night we attended a dinner in our honor. I was given a certificate saying I had endured a proper Finnish sauna.
The dinner lasted for over four hours with more courses that I can remember. What I can remember was that there was a different wine or alcohol served with every course. Somewhere in the first or second hour I realized I was never going to make it through the evening if I tried to keep up with my hosts.
It is very true that the Fins love their vodka. Actually they love all things alcohol. It's amazing they get any work done, considering their drinking habits.
I grew up next door to this guy: http://eino.org/ The view out our house was a landscape littered with his marble sculptures. His ex was also an artist and I definitely credit them as early influences on my professional artist career.
Not your typical Finn. His normal-sounding bio there minimizes his wild personality considerably.
Finland...full of beautiful women! A very fascinating digression from an otherwise (except for politics) blog about climbing. I spent 1962-1964 in Finland. Near Kuopio, I found an outcrop of boulders and kept up my skills when I could. In those days, Finland was home to only one climber I knew of: Matti A. Jokinen, who had written two books on climbing: "Alppien Seinamilla" (On Alpine Walls) and "Himalayan Valloitus". I bought and read them both. He was a dentist and later professor of dentistry in Helsinki. I made a point of meeting him and talking with him and friends about American climbing. He was fascinated by Yosemite where the cutting edge climbing of the late 50's and early 60's was taking place.
For a diversion, check out some of these fine blogs:
It's interesting that Park Rat mentioned her grandmother being from Kokkola since that's where we visited since my then girlfriend was from there. Nice little place.
I always wanted to go back to do some more exploring, especially up north, where it resembles the tundra and you're north of the Artic Circle. We did some good, shortish hikes thru the woods, though the flies and other biting insects were intense. Being from the West I'm not used to anything more aggressive than a mosquito. Still, it's not every place where you can finish your hike with a nice serving of reindeer and cloudberry liqueur.
There are many other legends,
Incantations that were taught me,
That I found along the wayside,
Gathered in the fragrant copses,
Blown me from the forest branches,
Culled among the plumes of pine-trees,
Scented from the vines and flowers,
Whispered to me as I followed
Flocks in land of honeyed meadows,
Over hillocks green and golden,
After sable-haired Murikki,
And the many-colored Kimmo.
Many runes the cold has told me,
Many lays the rain has brought me,
Other songs the winds have sung me;
Many birds from many forests,
Oft have sung me lays n concord
Waves of sea, and ocean billows,
Music from the many waters,
Music from the whole creation,
Oft have been my guide and master.
Sentences the trees created,
Rolled together into bundles,
Moved them to my ancient dwelling,
On the sledges to my cottage,
Tied them to my garret rafters,
Hung them on my dwelling-portals,
Laid them in a chest of boxes,
Boxes lined with shining copper.
Long they lay within my dwelling
Through the chilling winds of winter,
In my dwelling-place for ages
Let us know!