kolmekymmenta

that means thirty.

it's been a whole month since I got here.

every time the sun comes out, the Finns shake their heads slowly and say "This will probably be the last time you see sunlight until the day you leave this godforsaken country." Inevitably, the sun rises the next day, just to spite them. This sort of sums up the Finnish view of the world...

the leaves are already crunchy. on the days that the school food is truly horrible, my friends and I go out to the grocery around the corner. we walk back eating cream cakes and sit by the bike racks and watch the boys by the smoking shed. i try to speak Finnish. the chilly air makes the sugar taste even better.

i get fewer questions about my name and why the hell I would ever choose to come to Finland, but more about things like chocolate pizza and prom dresses. "tell me the finnish words you know" is a common request, too. whenever this happens I can only come up with French. when I've awkwardly ducked the language questions and small talk about being an exchange student comes to a close, Finns often gesture back in the direction of their house and tell me their sauna is waiting, like it's an impatient toddler.

the language now sounds like words, but I can't string any of them together. I have learned many other things though: old navy flag tshirts and crocs have definitely arrived in Finland, but ranch dressing hasn't. at all times here you should carry an umbrella and possibly a towel. Jean Sibelius borders on an obsession for these people (understandably). political correctness is neither required nor particularly respected. public noise, however, is unforgivable. the most important thing i've come to realize, though?

my head is too large for the average moped helmet.

if i am unable to get this off and come home still wearing it, I hope everyone will understand.