From Michigan to Finland and back
By Jessica Sharry
Sun contributor
Traveling away from Finland in the summer is a counterintuitive pursuit, considering that summertime is the best time of year to be there. I’ve been spending most of my time in Finland since meeting my husband in January 2012 in Mysore, India while studying yoga there. I’d just earned a Master’s Degree in Community Counseling in December, and figured I’d make a trip (my second trip) to India to pursue my interest in yoga, as taught and practiced in its birthplace, before settling down and starting a career as a counselor. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d end up meeting and falling in love with someone who lived halfway around the world, let alone move to another country as cold and distant as Finland.
Adventurous at heart but not restless, I’ve always been content wherever I am (for the most part), be that at home in Empire, in Montana where I lived during my undergrad years, or for a brief time in Hawaii. When it became apparent that I would need to be the one to move if my (now) husband Tero and I were to be together, as he had parental duties to fulfill and I did not, I made the adventurous choice. More obliged to my heart than to anything, I sold my house, packed my things and figured a counseling career could wait.
Tero assured me I’d have no trouble securing work in Helsinki teaching yoga, work I’d been doing since 2004, even without Finnish language skills (counseling was out of the question due to licensing laws and language requirements). Finland is a country that is home to a large number of yoga practitioners, specifically folks who are fond of Ashtanga Yoga – the style of yoga for which I am skilled at teaching. Finns value physical fitness, more so than any other group of people I’ve encountered around the globe. Perhaps it’s a habit ingrained in Finns born of the truth that movement and exercise is a mood booster, or it’s a trend grown out of the top-notch health system in Finland that ensures health-care as a right, and fitness an unofficial obligation in terms of personal upkeep. While indeed the main point of yoga is not exactly physical, it’s true that most yoga practiced today in the west offers improved fitness as a positive side effect and that’s the case with Ashtanga Yoga. And so, after a few extended visits to Finland and a lengthy process of acquiring residency, I eventually settled into life there.
As any immigrant or expat knows, getting used to life in another country amid a foreign culture is no easy task. Though English speakers typically have an easier time in Europe than folks from non-English speaking countries, even without learning the country-specific language, getting used to the customs and differences in terms of way of life often proves to be the greater difficulty – or at least that was the case for me. Getting used to the close quarters and compact spaces characteristic of Finnish architecture, and city life in general, was a challenge. Accustomed to large open spaces of land and sky in Northern Michigan (and Montana and Hawaii), the freedom (albeit an expensive one) that comes with owning a car, and the spacious interiors of homes and public quarters that affords ample elbowroom common in much of the United States, I found myself feeling compressed and constricted until I eventually adapted.
Fortunately, Finnish cities are designed to accommodate green spaces and Helsinki is home to abundant parks and forests, even within the city limits. It just took me a while to find them. It’s common to see folks picnicking on blankets atop grassy knolls in good weather, running and biking year-round, and simply soaking up the sun when it returns after the long dark winters. Wintertime in Finland is not for the faint of heart. Finns, though, seem to have been born with an inner resilience and a genuine appreciation for snow and cold, and for as much as they complain about the darkness of winter, everyone rejoices when the snow falls. The snow and ice of the north provides the perfect opportunity for Mother Nature to reflect even the most dimly lit surroundings, and those illuminated through artificial but creatively designed city lights and Joulua (Christmas-time) decorations. Not to mention it offers the opportunity for cross-country skiing, ice-hockey and ice-hole swimming – favorite wintertime activities for Finns. This inner resilience and ability to thrive amid life’s challenging circumstances is termed sisu, an attitude and quality of which Finns are proud.
Life in Finland, while vastly different from life anywhere in America with its different foods such as salty-sweet Mammi (a brown mess of rye flour mixed with molasses eaten at Easter), lingonberries (tart berries that pack a nutritional punch), Karjalan piirakaa (small rye-crusted rice-filled savory pies) and salmiakki (salty licorice with a tingly ammoniac bite) and unique traditions like joining a group of strangers naked in the sauna and sitting completely silent, and the common practice of patiently waiting one’s turn in lines (queues) while never expressing impatience, does share a few things in common with life in Northern Michigan.
Finns and Northern Michiganders, especially those who reside in the rural areas like Leelanau and Benzie counties, share an appreciation for nature, an innate sense of cooperation and kindness, and a preference for slower-paced living. And Finns, like many I know in Empire and Glen Arbor, are conscientious folks keen to help each out by lending a hand when a car slips off a wintery road, taking turns watering each other’s plants when needed, and respecting local restrictions like noise, junk and firework ordinances – though my experience is that Finns are better at following the rules than Northern Michiganders, for the most part. Finns and Northern Michiganders are both likely to be found taking pause to admire the surrounding nature, including wildlife and vistas of land, sky and water.
And yet despite Finns’ kindness, they are markedly withdrawn and restrained in their expressions so their kindness sometimes goes unnoticed. For example, where I live in north Helsinki, whenever I’m out on one of my regular runs beside the Vantaa river, it’s unlikely that I’m able to make eye contact with those I pass, and when I do my smile is often met with either a frown or an altogether ghosting; whereas on runs and walks in Empire, the number of folks I pass is equal to the number of times I’m greeted with “hi, how’s it going?”. My husband contests it’s not that Finns are angry or upset, though at times they are (Finns rank high on scales for depression contrary to the recent news that Finland is one of the happiest nations) but rather they are by nature shy and reserved, and have been taught to keep their emotions private so as not to bother others with their problems. This took some getting used to, as I’m naturally expressive, curious and fond of human interaction. I’m reminded that perhaps it would be nice to let Finns in on the secret that “hey, how’s it goin’?” doesn’t necessarily mean one needs to give a detailed answer, and that the two best answers are “it’s goin’ good,” or in cases when things aren’t good, “it’s goin’.”
I’ve learned much by living in Finland, including the truth that silence is golden, inner resolve/resilience (sisu) is the best antidote for most conditions, and the biggest realization: that social-democracy is a brilliant philosophy that works in actuality.
In my late teens and early twenties as a Gen Xer passionate and opinionated about being a democrat and politically liberal, I often found myself in contention with peers who were more conservative and/or adamantly libertarian. I sometimes still do. When George W. won the White House, I was told many a time that if I didn’t like it, I could move to Canada. When I found myself on the other side of the Atlantic living in a country with a thriving social democracy and top-notch socialized medicine, I wondered if perhaps it was my destiny to experience life beyond the U.S. border.
Admittedly, I balked at some of the rules that seemed to go against my American conditioning of hyper-individualism that in Finland is replaced with a more community-minded outlook. I receive many questions from Americans about living in Finland, many of which are centered on taxation. There is a big assumption that folks who live and work in countries with ample social services and socialized medicine suffer from exuberant taxation. In reality, everyone I know who is working and living in Finland are proud to pay their taxes, for they know it is their obligation, and the benefits they receive as citizens or residents of Finland wouldn’t exist without their contributions – benefits available to all. There is a sense of responsibility, loyalty, and compassion for one another engrained in the minds and hearts of Finns and it’s uncommon for Finns to gripe about taxation or social services. I am constantly inspired by this socially conscious attitude and hope that somehow it spreads around the globe and makes its way to American soil. And yet, even though Finns value cooperation and collectivism to a large extent, they are keen to flaunt their individuality and ingenuity as much as the next person through their colorful and at times odd fashion choices, like the bold and bright styles of Marimekko and through their unique and dark sense of humor, as depicted in the films of famed director Aki Kaurismäki.
Despite the vast differences in culture and attitude, an important and genuine common thread is found in Finns and Northern Michiganders alike: a deep and sincere appreciation for nature and the ecology of our world. The will of the environmentally conscientious to save and protect Michigan’s great lakes, land, and wildlife is evidenced by the various coalitions and groups in existence working to protect the environment such as the Leelanau Conservancy, Northern Michigan Environmental Action Council, and other various watershed, land and wildlife organizations that exist in Michigan.
Community members in Northern Michigan typically come together in these shared aims to protect our natural world, despite political party affiliation. And an appreciation in Northern Michiganders exists for the economic importance of local agriculture, and is evidenced by the multitude of festivals and businesses that exist thanks to the bounty and agriculture of cherries, apples, grapes, sweet corn, hops and more via the hard work of local workers and business owners. This is a testament to the value Northern Michiganders place upon the land and her people. Likewise, there has been an increase in attitudes of respect, and an interest in repairing the wounds of the past endured by Native Americans at the hands of colonizers that is hopefully a sign of communities, and humanity, moving in the right direction, toward a more honest ecology that includes people, particularly those of indigenous origin.
While at times life seems uncertain, especially recently in Finland considering the war that rages in Ukraine at the hands of the leader of neighboring Russia, and that Finland has been the recipient of unnerving threats causing residents to lose sleep, Northern Michiganders also face strife as evidenced by a housing crisis (specifically a lack of affordable housing), a lack of workers to fill the burgeoning tourist industry, and a growing mental health crisis.
And yet, life goes on (or so we hope). The counterintuitive act of traveling away from Finland in the summer with weather as good and warm as ever, a city-wide floral aroma of lilac and cherry blossom that rides upon the Baltic breezes, and midnight sunlight that gives way to joyful attitudes and actual smiles upon the faces of Finns, traveling home to Northern Michigan and the small town of Empire that lies nestled amid the unspoiled woods of the National Park, nearby orchards of apple and hops, and the blue-greens of Lake Michigan gives good reason for me to recognize and appreciate just how lucky I am to call both places home.
