The Whiles

Faces and Places

2007-06-24T00:59:00.000+01:00

Here are photos taken of various people and places, some closer and more meaningful than others, put here because I like the photos. I have had a wonderful year and many details are missing, particularly due to my lack of blog maintenance. I had imagined a much more in-depth, pervasive and up-to-date online portrayal of my year, but found it was not something I could keep up with. Instead, here are pictured trips/times that I made a point to take many photos of, a large gap being left between January and the present.

In any case, I am satisfied with many of these photos and hope that I have captured a picture of my time away, no matter how fragmented, true to reality or lacking. I have no idea how to rate that, and don't know how many people are viewing or reading what I post, so to those who do, I hope you have a little sliver of Finland to take with you.

The Eurovision Urine Saga

2007-06-24T00:55:00.000+01:00

The Eurovision contest was held in Helsinki this year, due to Finland’s surprising, first ever win of the contest with Lordi’s disputed “Hard Rock Hallelujah.” This win was actually disputed by many in Finland, being deemed by its few religious fundamentalist weirdos as the marking of the beginning of the end, an ushering gesture into the start of the apocalypse. The disagreement on propriety was widespread however, and there was even discussion of an intervention in the group’s continued involvement in the contest on a governmental level. People were not sure if they should represent the country.

(Lordi is basically a Finnish version of the American Heavy Metal band Gwar, wearing near comical horror costumes as part of their stage act.) The murmuring had no consequence, they were not disbanded and ended up winning the contest, launching them, ironically, to the position of national icons, being paraded on newspapers and leeched by industry, having dolls made in their guise, coloring books and Lordi cola.

Whatever could be said about it, Finland needed this win and I think it would be great, no matter what kind of costumes, themes or terrible songs gave it to them. It is such a wonderful country and it seems healthy for it to get a boost of self-confidence, something it could always use. Finland also made it to the top in hockey, losing to Canada, but beating Russia in intense and surprising matches. It was a good year to be there.

Anyhow, I went to the Eurovision finals with many students, taking the train to Helsinki to pack into the city with thousands of people from all over Europe. There were two stages in the event, a main one at the auditorium and one at the cathedral square by the university. We were at the cathedral square.

The event was exciting because of the people, everywhere, from all over, but I realized after a few minutes of listening that I hate the music of Eurovision. (For those that don't know what Eurovision is, it is a song contest between European countries and some outliers like Russia. Seeing how huge the event is, and how much of the world is involved, I am shocked it doesn't get a lot of coverage in the US.)

But yeah, I had a bottle of wine, and was sitting, listening to the music, looking out at the thousands of people watching, when it struck me, “my god, this music is wretched, empty, filthy. I can’t stand it.”

As a music lover, it is hard to bear this strange display of creepiness. I saw a TV program at my friend Jaakko’s a some days before the contest, where judges were saying what was good about a song, and what they looked for in a Eurovision song contest song. Their answers were horrifying. Not only did they know nothing about music, they didn't appreciate anything about music that marks its artistry or beauty.

“They should just come on stage and like, BAM!!!, and the song just explodes,” said one guy. “Lyrics don't matter, just as long as they’re happy. I don't want hear about sadness or trouble, they need to be fun and upbeat. It doesn't matter if they make sense, or if they are good, just as long as they are catchy and not sad.”

They said shallow statement after shallow statement, some worse than these, I just forget a lot of them and cannot convey how shallow and cocky they were in appearance and tone while offering their “expertise.” It is like saying a painting’s contents and the artists skills don't matter, just as long as the colors are bright and the frame is nice, both in itself and in the living room.

Anyhow, I had not cared or thought much about that TV program, or really any opinionated rhetoric before going, and I figured it would simply be a fun event no matter what. But, with the wine depressing my brain a bit, and the sudden realization that I had to pee really bad, I was suddenly not so excited to be at the Eurovision contest.

We were sitting on these 10 or so inch steps that lead up the cathedral. To move at all was a huge inconvenience, but to leave the area completely one need good balance and a good dirty, hateful look deflector. Even better, they were blocking both the top and bottom entrances to the steps, only letting people back up who had someone to verify that they had a seat where friends were sitting. What a drag.

I snuck away while everyone was standing, making it easier to leave. By this time I was wondering if one could die by holding in urine for too long, by way of exploded bladder or liver poisoning. I headed down the steps and there were too many people coming. I saw a guy from Germany I knew and he yelled and waved to me. I had to haggle with the guard, a tough, short, bulky woman, eventually getting him in, while I had to turn around and go back up the other way, the distance looking worse, the people slowing my movement and becoming more inconvenient.

I got to the top and they were blocking way back in from the top. I would have to go around. I asked if there was a bathroom inside the area, and they said no. I was in serious pain by this time. I walked off towards a street I thought might hold promise for a bathroom. It was rather dark on this street but there were people everywhere. In fact, on closer inspection, there were people urinating all over. Noticing this I looked closer and saw there were small rivers of urine all over the place, on the sidewalk, next to the sidewalk, in puddles where there was no slope.

Still, I could not just pee right here on the street. I could be native, embrace the moment, the trend, but I didn't want to flash my junk for everyone to see. Its illegal. I grew up in a religious household. Ive never even see my parents naked. You don't just pee on the street where people are walking.

I walked in vain, around two blocks, three blocks, I don't know. I was about to pass out. I felt my stomach filling up with urine, seeping outside my intestines, into my legs, up into my chest. I was turning into a urine tank.

I saw a church, dark, with a tree in a receding area. The only problem, there was a couple sitting on a wall in the area right before the shadows of freedom.
“Do you guys mind if I pee back here?” I ask them, feeling pretty ridiculous and a little embarrassed.
“Ah, no problem,” they answer nicely. “The situation is pretty bad, isn’t it.”

I was so, so happy. I went into that corner and discovered the real meaning of the often meaninglessly tossed around word “freedom.”
“Wow, you really needed that didn't you,” the guy said as they packed their drinks back into their bag.
“Yeah, I did.”
I was done long after they had left.

I walked back to the event, going around the top area, down to the bottom, struggling through people. I got to the line and they had stopped letting people in. I tried to get up to the spot where the guards were, to tell them my computer and camera and bag were up there with my friends, but I was blocked by a heavy set girl in black. She jammed her thick arm into my shoulder and gave me this ridiculously stupid mean expression. Then a few other women around her closed in and all shook their heads at me. “No,” their expressions said, “you’re not going anywhere, little man.”

I called my friends and said I could not come back, could they watch my things. They sent messages explaining others had made it back up, “be tough.” I wasn't going to walk up and start a brawl with these women. I spent the rest of the event bored, swallowed by the crowds on the sidelines, unable to see much.

I love Eurovision.

Stockholm In Two Sections

2007-06-24T00:36:00.000+01:00

I took two trips to Stockholm in which I spent time taking photographs. The first was taken in November, with my friends Yvonne and Swantje, the second taken in May with my friend Bo-Deene. The trips were opposites in many ways. In November we had nowhere to sleep and wandered around the city the whole night, in rain and snow, stopping when/where we could, including bars, restaurants and a wretched 6 am, teen-filled McDonalds. The trip was really fun regardless. We took photos all over the city, becoming more and more delirious and silly. I only have a few photos we took that night, most of them being blurry or uninteresting.

The second trip was like a long awaited escape. I was invited by my friend Bo-Deene the night before the trip, deciding to go the morning of. It was sunny and beautiful weather and we were both in need of such soothing and revitalizing environs. We just relaxed, rented bikes and cruised around the city in the sun. We stayed in this eccentric, surprisingly stylish and comfortably converted prison called Långholmen. It was stylishly converted into a hostel, playing 100% on the prison theme, with photos and news clippings about the incarcerated criminals to gaze at before drifting off to sleep.

One highlight of both trips was the possibility for me to see the museum of one my favorite Swedish musicians, Cornelis Vreeswijk. We were early the first time, so I only got photos of the outside, so I went back again the second time and took some photos of the inside. The Museum is next to the palace in Gamla Stan and is not anything overtly flashy or noticeable. I was so thrilled to see it, experiencing a subtle euphoria in finally getting to see something more of someone I have held as a close inspiration and spent much time listening to and trying to translate.

The photos speak for much of it. Bo-Deene took a number of photos here. Some are obvious, and some are those of people in, or on boats, along with the beautiful photo of the fading building fronts.

I Would to Rock, Had I the Flagrant Disposition

2007-06-24T00:26:00.001+01:00

I was also an exchange student in Finland in High school in 1997-98, in an area outside Helsinki called Espoo, where I went to a school called Tapiolan Lukio. Many of the people I met and spent my time with there were musicians, who are now rather successful, or had periods of success. Particularly, my greatest friend in Finland and one of my best friends, Jaakko, plays with a number of pop stars in Finland and for the Finnish version of the “Idols” show.

I had a chance to go to his concerts and hang out with his bands, which was really fun and exciting for me, as I have always loved music and played it, though I have never discovered the will to conform to the rock myself. It was both a great chance for us to hang out and catch up, and a way for me to see what he does and get a taste for the traveling, music life. I feel really lucky to have such a wonderful friend, and to have had such experiences in Finland.

I had originally planned to take a mass of photos of concerts and musicians, but I discovered I have no skill or equipment for such photography, resulting in the heavily doctored, low quality photos here. I wanted to salvage what I could from the photos I did take, both to reveal and to honor. Most of the time, I was just hanging out and didn't want to be taking photos of everyone in the sauna before shows, or sitting around talking, like some annoying intruder.

I feel motivated now, however, to buy a better camera and to try and learn to take concert photos. Perhaps, perhaps.

Sadly, there was a handful of people I didn’t get to meet from my first exchange year, or see perform. Still, I had a blast and am sad to leave, feeling lucky to do as much as I did. Saying goodbye to Jaakko was strikingly sad and overwhelming, as I realized what a loss it is to be so far away from such a great friend.

Kiitos paljon mun ystäväni, Jaakko. I do/will miss you greatly.

The photos here are of a band Jaakko plays bass in, Olavi Uusivirta and of Jukka Poikka, a reggae/dub artist and visionary that also went to Tapiolan Lukio. Finland has a wealth of talented musicians, of which, here are some. Sorry for the poor quality of the photos.

W.I.F.F. (Wacky International Fun Fest)

2007-06-24T00:17:00.000+01:00

In the middle of the year, my friend Martin from Austria approached and told me there was a group of students doing a radio program and asked me if I was interested and said they were meeting to brainstorm for it in the next 15 minutes. I was interested, so I attended.

Everyone sat around staring, while Martine proposed ideas.
“What should we call it, what should be our theme? Etc. These were some of the things that needed considering.

Everyone sat in silence, looking bored and uninterested. I can never resist in moments like this, I always have to blurt out something stupid and annoying.
“Lets call it WIFF, the wacky international fun fest!” I laughed at myself like an idiot right after I said it, always the craftsman of a perfect, eternal humor, funny only to myself, and every once and great while, a good friend that is present that has the same tastes. Everyone just looked at me, like I had just cleared my throat to speak.

One guy said it was a dumb name, unaware that I was in no way serious about the name. I was imaging these dumb American commercial commentators, introducing stupid products or events, whether on TV or radio, talking in that stupid, this-is-so-exciting-you’ll-poo-your-pants voice, that anyone with a little integrity and sense of self worth and connectedness knows is the voice of grotesque, scheming, commercial artifice. There was no way for them to know all of this, of course.

The meeting resulted in almost nothing, and I had forgotten about it, more-or-less, until Martin had contacted me a while later, letting me know we needed to meet up to plan the soon upcoming first program.
“Cool,” I thought. “I will bring a few songs and be able to sit in a little and help with some details.”

I arrived at the meeting spot and there was Martin, but none of the other 6 or so students I thought were also going to be there. We greeted and talked a little.
“So, I like the name WIFF, lets use it.”
“I was joking when I said it,” I told him. “But,,, why not use it.”
“So, what are we going to do this first show about?” He asked, expectantly.
My mind bent when he said this, I was not thinking it would only be the two of us.
“Uhh, what,,, I thought I was just going to help out a little bit with the music, etc., not plan the whole show. Where is everyone else.”
He listed off some of the people that said they would do it and why they could not make it to the meeting. I felt just then, like bailing out and not doing it, but I didn’t want to be another cop-out, and no one really gave him any decent notice. I really wanted to try it out also.

So, we did the first show, and to our fortune, our friend Jessica (who has too many background details to say where she is from, French, American, African, British, I am confused with the details) also showed up after the first meetings to help.

Luckily, Martin had previous radio experience, as he did a show at his home school, which if had not been the case, I would not have stuck around. The controls and planning would have been too much for me on top of my school work, etc. Needless to say, it was a lot of fun, even if it was completely amateurish, and often was not as “wacky” as we would have liked it to be. I was really glad I didn’t stop the many times I felt stressed and nervous about being responsible for content. In the end it was really fun and rewarding and I loved spending time with Martin and Jessica.

There Were Parties

2007-06-24T00:04:00.000+01:00

I imagine most students that come back from Finland will talk about how much they partied and how fun it was. Certainly, there were parties. And I did attend quite a few. I must admit though, I didn't enjoy them very much and didn't attend many as the year went on.

As a result, I am not posting very many party pictures. I didn’t even take so many when I did go to parties, with a few exceptions. Mostly here, are photos from a Holloween party, which was both fun and well photographed. My friend Swantje took some as well as myself.

I had not planned to post any such photos, but as I went through them, I realized some of them were really cool and should not go unseen, so here they are. I had some others photos that were just dull. Rooms full of people holding drinks, some cheering, some chanting football chants, etc., playing drinking games.

I suppose I was not expecting the atmosphere to be as much party driven and high school-esque as it was, in regards to parties, etc. It served to show me I have grown up quite a bit and am perhaps, behind on my studies. Whatever the case, I had a good year, and even had a few really fun nights at parties.

Belgium

2007-06-23T23:48:00.000+01:00

I went to Antwerp during the second half of the year, to visit my old friend Lotte. We have kept in touch with each other via real, paper letters after meeting the first time in Finland in 1997-98. It was so great to finally meet up again. The last we had met was 6 or 7 years pervious in the U.S.

It was a really relaxing, comforting trip and once again, a nice little break from bad weather and this time, a schedule that was starting to get a touch stale. I spent much time walking around, seeing the city, taking photos.

I got to try french fries (oh, sorry guys, freedom fries), which I had no idea were originally a Belgian thing, and great chocolate, and finally, good beer, for a reasonable price. In Finland it is either really horrible beer for a ridiculously expensive price, or good beer for a ridiculously expensive price.

One of my favorite parts of Belgium was Gent, a city with a wonderful layout and relaxed atmosphere. There are many students and a University there, so that has much to do with it. Antwerp was also wonderful and well designed and I loved exploring it.

The greatest however, was just catching-up with and seeing the life of an old friend. I got to see her previous apartment I wrote the address of many times on letters and also the newer one, which I have written, for the first time. We walked to sights familiar to her and went to great local coffee shops she went to, etc. It was just what I needed.

I hope to make it back there one of these days, before I am old and moldy.

Thanks Lotte.

Portugal + Jesus Statues = A good time

2007-06-23T23:33:00.001+01:00

I waited too long to write about this trip, but I suppose it saves the long winded entry that would follow had I written it earlier, so perhaps it is better this way.

I spent my Christmas and New Year in Porto, Portugal with my friend Pedro and his family. It was wonderful. The winter in Finland was snowless and warm, and therefore terribly dark. The roads were covered in gravel and people were depressed and trudging around, lost in this bizarre twilight. I held up well for a time, but started feeling a little faint in December. Portugal was the perfect escape.

It was ridiculously sunny there, both in literal terms and in regards to personalities and human warmth. Of course, we spent much time driving and on the road people are far from sunny in Portugal, but I wasnt deterred. I felt like a load had been lifted from my chest.

We didn't go bungee jumping or skydiving or anything, but I was excited to be folded into the fabric of this family’s life to whatever degree. They were most gracious and kind-hearted and made me feel very much at home. I got to experience Portugal from a lucky, inside perspective, seeing local sights, eating a variety of dishes, tasting old port wine, hanging out with a group of friends in their usual settings. It is really thrilling to crash into another world like this and fill up on it and then leave. It is strange and beautiful.

Noteworthy as strange or different, was hanging out, drinking beer on a 10 to 15 foot (3 to 5 meters) Jesus statue at 2 am. There were two such identical statues, separated from each other by about 30 feet (10 meters), watching over the surrounding area, plastic and protective, and Jesus. That was cool. Otherwise, so much is mentionable, and so much I would love to describe in details that are now hazy and would perhaps not be of much interest to any but myself. I was really honored and lucky to spend the time I did, where I did in Portugal.

A Weekend Out of Town

2007-06-23T22:36:00.000+01:00

Before the end of the first term, I went to a cottage/hostel on a farm, in a small, nowhere village in the woods near Jyväskylä, not terribly far from Tampere, but a decent drive away from any place substantially populated. The roads in the town were mostly unpaved, save the main road leading out of the area. I went with Yvonne and Katerin, friends from Germany.

It was such a contrast, given the urban feel of Tampere, no matter how small the city is. It was dark, dreary and quiet, and the locals gave off the kind of uncomplicated, peaceful air that such people commonly do. It was just what we wanted, a quiet, peaceful place in the middle of nowhere with a sauna. Given the price we paid, we were surprised how accommodating and nice the place was, with a wood-burning sauna, a cozy interior and a lot of space.

We spent most of our time walking around through the empty woods, taking photographs and exploring the area. It was really quite nice.

I don't recall exactly how long we were there, but on the morning of one of the full days we spent, we woke a little late and on preparing to leave, saw a ruckus a small distance from our cottage/hostel, in a barn that was part of the farm. We creeped slowly to the barn and on getting closer, the matron of the place approached us and said they had caught an elk that morning, that it was shot by a young kid and that the elk happened to be pregnant. “You can get closer and look,” she said. We ran and grabbed our cameras.

It was a strange sight. This huge, hulking beast of an animal, hanging, mostly skinned and massive, from a large pully, connected to a metal bar pushed through the leg joints of the animal’s hind legs. There was about 8 men dancing around the elk, excitedly though rather precisely, skinning and preparing the animal. There were more men standing around watching then working, perhaps all preparing for the day they might shoot one themselves.

They looked at us questioningly at first, and seemingly irritated, while our host cleared our identities, which affected a few “welcome to our woods” smirks and passing looks of curiosity. They were consumed by their task though. At first my stomach turned and I wanted to walk away from there, but, of course I was lured to this strange sight, both because I have never seen a live elk let alone a dead one, but also because of the strangeness of the whole procedure.

The worst part was when a man pushed a wheel-barrow up to the animal while a couple men cut down its chest, allowing the stomach to slip, noisily and grotesquely from the animal, filling the entire wheel-barrow to the brim. I was about to walk away then, but we all just kept watching, fascinated. Strangely, it was clear after some moments, this was something so old and human, and almost natural. It was not so strange after only a few moments. One thing which was not so nice, however, was the discovery of two babies in the stomach of the elk, and, we being the foreign observers, they brought them up to us, almost as if it was an offering. “Here you go our revered guests.”

They usually don't shoot pregnant mom elks, but the kid was young, he didn't know. We took photos, but I didn't want to post those of the babies. They were in a small, clear fluid sack, about the size of my hand, and almost looked like they had beaks. I did decide, however, to post photos of the elks and men working on them. At first I was not going to, and asked a few friends what they thought, was it wrong or not to post such photos.

I decided however it was too interesting and not disturbing or perverse enough to leave un-posted. I do apologize though, to any who may think it is wrong or offensive to post such photos. I had one friend who said it was gross and would be wrong, leaving me to believe that someone else will also feel the same. I don't feel it is an exploitation of anyone or thing and I believe the photos are not so bad.

Moreover, the situation became more strange and mentionable (and post-able), as on our return later that night, after having walked the day in the woods, they had caught another elk, a rather unusual circumstance. Perhaps we were their lucky charms. We brought the spirit of the hunt. I couldn't help, but imagine the spirits of the elk raging in woods that night, big, dead and searching for their hunter, raging through the woods, making loud, dead elk sounds. It was so dark and the wind was blowing a bit. It was all quite surreal.

My resolve to not hunt was only confirmed after the trip, and I felt like I had gotten a slice of an old way of being human that has been lost to the urban dwelling masses. Even more so, it was a nice weekend away from Tampere and my student-housing cage.

The City of Tampere

2007-06-15T19:52:00.000+01:00

Prerequisite Formalities

I realized yesterday that, because I have fallen so far behind in staging the chronology of my time in Finland, I would have to sacrifice a hefty bulk of my current time to post everything I would like to before returning home, which will be within the next two weeks. It suddenly seemed ridiculous to sacrifice my sweet, real-time life of the present, to the already burned, digitally preserved, Internet life of the past. I kept it up though, fading each day a little more into the monitor of my computer, both re-living my year and being a little more non-existent in my surroundings. But, after a dozen or so lost hours, I have more-or-less finished with my photos and will lay them out, all at once, as chronologically as possible.
This post is what I intended in November, a personal photographic representation of the city of Tampere to accompany whatever scraps of historical misinformation and whimsical description I could muster. These photos actually span the first few months of my year and continue to the last few weeks, though they are not laid out in order.

Following this entry will be a semi-chronological re-cap of my year, as there were trips I took, which I had planned to post photos of from the start and never found the inspiration to organize.

I will conclude with a very up-to-date post, which will portray my last 3 weeks, which I have spent in Sweden, land of the free, home of the brave. After that (and my return home) I will either start a whole new blog and link it to this one, or continue here.

Thank you for checking in.

Thumb Wrestling Champion

2007-05-23T16:24:00.000+01:00

Now that I have been in Tampere for approximately 10 months, and have neglected adding an entry for almost as long, I will add one describing the city. I had posted the last entry as a photographic lead-up to this long intended Tampere overview, but this never happened. But, what can I say, the inspiration, the mood and the moment just never quite arrived for me to make any additions. Negligent? Yes, immoral? No, though I would give a sincere apology to any who was kind/interested enough to regularly check up on me and my blog.

I was truly hoping to give as many details, exciting anecdotes and photos as possible, but somehow, winter swallowed me up and I found myself wandering around for months in a sluggish, empty haze. Then, suddenly, I found myself locked in a rigorous and unending thumb wresting match with the unruly, fast acting and flexible, oversized thumbs of the likes of lacking- motivation, inspiration, time, intent, direction, significance, chance, and the ultimate challenger, boredom.

It would seem that 8 or 9 years of near-constant employment and busyness plays a trick on the mind of those who are foolish enough to pursue such ends. After a few months of calm relaxation and choice use of my free time, I was ambushed and overwhelmed into these tedious thumb-wrestling matches, dodging and parrying as huge, lightening fast thumbs charged at mine, hoping to pin mine down and declare victory. ONE, TWO, THREE!! But I didn’t give up.

My thumbs are sore, my heart is wary, but as the sun was let out of its cage, and I built up thumb strength by using a hand flexing device, called the “Thumb Flexor” I found myself inching my way back to activeness. I still get threatening text messages for rematches, but I won’t be here much longer and the increasing warmth is slowly bringing me to realize, you don’t have to be a world-class thumb-wrestling champion to be happy in life. I won once, why wrestle again.

Besides, and in addition to this, soon I will be able to revel in the drab, graceless droll of the American accent, marvel at the illogic of endless, result-less, round-about political debate, walk the fluorescent marble-like halls of the wonderland called Wal-Mart, spend time with fundamentalist, nationalist weirdos and forget that somewhere out there, beyond the horizons of my flailing homeland, lie lands where people believe in things like common sense, reasonableness, truth, equity and interestedness. I think I have no choice but to enjoy myself at whatever cost, before I make the plunge back into my disintegrating mess of a home country. And now I have huge thumbs, so I am prepared for challengers.

No, I don’t mean to sound so cynical and angry, but I must admit, from this perspective, American politics and public appear so deranged and hysterical. But, I am thrilled at the thought of my family, friends and much loved familiarities. Landscapes, smells, sights; All of it excites me when thinking about it, regardless of the passing waves of incompetent politicians, social wackiness, ridiculous media, etc. Home is home. I won’t bow down to the cliché that sits perched at the edge of this one. My heart is also in Finland. Hell, its everywhere. I am not too big on nationalist hysterics.

On that note, Tampere is a small, rather quaint city with a population of 200,000. As guide books like to say, the city is “nestled between two lakes,” Näsijärvi and Pyhäjärvi, which are separated by an elevation difference of 18 meters (59 ft.) The Tammerkoski Rapids (which are still called rapids for some strange reason) connect the lakes and were largely instrumental in establishing Tampere as an industrial center of Finland and have been the buttery-bread of the city from its conception. The rapids were harnessed for energy and factories sparing up around its banks, giving the city its current working class ambience.

The town sprang centered around the rapids, as a small market place town in 1775, being given township status by Gustav III in 1779 to later become the thriving industrial center it is today. Additionally, it is was the center of some of the bloodiest battles during Finland’s civil war in 1918, which marked both when the country declared independence from Russia, who annexed it in 1809, taking it from Sweden, and when Finland would set its direction for future structure. A strange and difficult war to really define, it has been described by some to be the war between communism and continued Russian dominance and the “white-is-right” side, which claimed it was fighting for independence and freedom from the tyranny of the “wrong red.” Really, it was an unfortunate event, springing from the confusions of a tumultuous and insecure period.

During the start of Russia’s period of Finnish dominance, Finland was given a wide buffer to establish its own government, having good relationships with the appointed Russian governor-general, who acted as Liaison between the established single-chamber government and the emperor and government in Russia. This lasted until the later half of the 19th century, when Russia, unsure how to deal with its stolen, subjugated borderland additions to its empire, started an intense period of Russification under Tzar Alexander III. This was the greatest initiatory factor leading up to the shaky situation in Finland, resulting in civil war.

With Russia’s new program of Russification it became imperative to gain independence. Many Finns wanted only this, but had different ideas regarding the soundest way to go about emancipation and creating a smooth transition to independence. To really delve into the history, it is still difficult to discern what happened, though some things are clear. Due to Russia’s revolution there was a dramatic decrease in export of grain from Russia to Finland, creating a situation of panic and fear of deception from farmers with grain and the then establishment provisional government, ran by Swedish-Finnish intellectuals.

On top of this, in 1899 a workers movement was started, gaining high membership and support from many workers and poorer farming populations. The government was actually rather effective and the situation seemed comparatively stable. The greatest threat to peace came with an election held in 1917 in which the social democrats and labor party won a majority. The Swedish elite, afraid things would run awry, dissolved the results, as the social democratic party wanted more control and power, and for the provisional government to deal mostly with foreign relations. Also, At this time there was no established police force. Instead, the middle class, associated with white Finland, had a “civil guard,” composed of farmers and soldiers. The working class, on the other side, had the Red Guard as their peacekeeping force, there still being a substantial amount of Russian Soldiers in the land. This situation polarized the population, forcing support of either red or white.

Ultimately, the situation was a problem of communication. Certainly, some on the red side wanted to be a part of communist Russia and side with the Bolsheviks, but many just wanted to be honored in the election. The Russian revolution of 1917 was an excitement and encouragement to action. Prior to this period, real power was actually wielded by strike committees, on both the white, middle class and red, working class sides. However, following the election and the struggle for power between the social democratic and provisional government, the red side tired of parliamentarian methods of change-making and declared control of the country.

In the battle the white side collaborated with Germany, hiring Finnish Jäeger soldiers who were well trained in Germany and effective in battle. There was a plan to actually become a principality of Germany, upon a white victory, but due to Germany’s difficulties and internal cleavages, this was not a possibility. Some of these pro-German people would later rage for fascism in the 1930s through a near successful extremist group called the Lapua movement.

The red side however, was not so well organized or militarily capable as the white side, resulting in their final, bloody defeat in Tampere. Thousands were detained and died in concentration camps, while the whites also killed many in “terrors,” or, basically killing sprees.

Ultimately, the situation was not a clear-cut revolution or two sided struggle against good and bad. It was more of an unfortunate explosion, and situation of communication breakdown and haste in different directions by different forces resulting in a friction that escalated and exploded into violence.

People still don’t talk about it much, with there being very few films or extensive public recognition of the event. There is much blood in Tampere and sometimes you can hear something said about it, how divisive and unfortunate the whole situation was. One of the things mentioned the most is the propagation of family member against family member and friend against friend.

I am no historian and any who read this, feel free to correct me. This is some kind of overview.

On that note, I am going to try and post as much of my year as I can here in the next month before I return home, which will be at the start of July. I have far too many photos and a few mentionables.

More than anything though, in our illiterate and time-addled age, I plan to post photos and will try and keep some kind of chronology to them.

A Photographic Prelude To Tampere

2006-11-12T13:43:00.000Z

Turku- A City Demoted

2006-11-12T13:25:00.000Z

Finland has quite a history, and is impossible to talk about without taking a look at its peculiar position as a meeting point between the historically tumultuous, exotic Russian east and European west. Finns are a mysterious lot because there is not any clear evidence regarding where they have come from. What is clear is that they were Christianized and ruled by both east and west, being ruled and shaped by Sweden from 1154-1809 and Russia from 1809-1917.

While under Swedish rule Sweden’s administrative center for attempting to “civilize” the rough living, forest dwelling, pagan Finns was Turku (Åbo in Swedish). Eventually though, after Russia fought for and won Finland for itself, the capital was moved to Helsinki in order to reduce the Swedish influence and move the capital closer to the Tzar Alexander I and St. Petersburg.

Turku is the oldest and 5th largest city in Finland. I personally am not a huge fan of Turku, as it has a certain kind of coldness in regards to its layout and feel, but it is historically rich and has a number beautiful Churches and nice architecture. I am, of course, impressed by everything older than 50 years old, being a California boy and all, but if I were to create an ordered list of my favorite Finnish cities, Tampere and Helsinki would be having an arm wrestling/karate chop contest with each other and then Turku would be somewhere down on the list awaiting a promotion. Wait on my little friend. I have no love for you in this empty, blackened heart of mine.

I Am An Old Man Now/God Eats People For Lunch

2006-11-12T12:20:00.000Z

Soon after arrived I turned the quarter century page in my life. Conveniently, I was born on the same day of the same year as a Bavarian student, so there was no lack of people to attend the festivities. We had cake, and all went down and drank beer by a lake. It was a fine way to begin my stay.

Tampere is a city nestled between two large lakes, Näsijärvi and Pyhäjärvi. Lapinkaari, the student housing building I live in, is situated wonderfully, right next to Näsijärvi, making for a wonderful place for recreation and the sometimes-desperately-needed peaceful outing. There are trails running along the lake, which are geared for cross country skiing in the winter and running in the summer. It is a truly beautiful area, as I will provide photographic evidence for when I am finally able to choose which photos to post.

Lapinkaari, My Home In Finland

2006-11-08T09:56:00.000Z

Lapinkaari As Of Last Week

This Is A Place Where I spend Time Sleeping

A Glance Through The Wilds

Fancy, Modern Design

This is the View From My Window

It Snows In Finland?

2006-11-07T13:40:00.000Z

Finland (I am Still Alive)

2006-11-07T13:30:00.000Z

To begin, I would like to apologize for my lack of posts, especially to any one that has regularly checked for updates. I know how annoying it can be to check something that should be updated regularly and find it never to be so.

Anyhow, I have finally gotten the inspiration/time/energy to sift through a constantly growing pool of photos to make some new posts and if all goes as planned, I will put up a flurry of posts in the next weeks and try and get up to speed. Given the fact I have been settled comfortably here for a time and am not experiencing new excitement every day, it will not be too hard to do so, I hope. I will likely end up posting many photos with little commentary once I finNish (aye ;-) some brief descriptions/introductions to my life in Tampere.

I hope you are all doing well over there and that the politics and madness, which appear so bizarre and twisted from this perspective, aren’t getting you down. I must say, the longer time I spend in a well-oiled and more-or-less healthy society (don’t get me wrong, Finland has its problems) the more unbelievable and unrealistic the situation in the US appears. Enough of that though, here are some photos.

I first want to post a few current photos of the recent snowstorms, given how early it is here and how beautiful. I will then try and give some kind of chronological, or subject orientated posts so it will be as though I was posting the whole time.

Meow!

Sweden

2006-09-20T09:36:00.000+01:00

Sverige- The nature of my trip changed completely when I arrived in Stockholm, Sweden. I had not realized it while in Iceland, but I had exhausted myself staying up late, waking early and running around non-stop, taking photographs.

I had not mentioned it in my other entries, but the sun never quite went down while I was in Reykjavik, due to Iceland’s proximity to the polar circle, making for sleepless nights. Additionally, we stayed up late each night, so when I left on the morning of August 22nd, it dawned on me how absolutely exhausted I had become.

I flew into Stockholm, from where I took a train to Töreboda, a small town outside of Mariestad (another small, but not quite as small town. Both are located next to Lake Vänern, the largest lake in Sweden) to visit my old friend Mattias, his wife and now my friend, Jennifer, and their two sons and now friends, Neo and Nimbus.

This was exciting because I had not seen Mattias for 3, 4 or so years, and had never met Jennifer or the boys. I was also excited to see if my Swedish language studies have gotten me anywhere.

I felt like I was at a home away from home and not traveling through some small town in Sweden. It was wonderful. They were incredibly hospitable and I was quickly nestled into their quiet, peaceful world, without any problems.

The only drawback was that my photographic drive was almost wholly replaced by the enjoyment of “hanging out and taking it easy.” My touristic identity took a mongoloid uppercut right to the flippin face and suddenly I was no longer the camera slinging fool I was in Iceland. I could have gone around photographing plant leaves, rice pictures and toilet paper roles arranged in fascinatingly artistic patterns in the house, but I just wanted to take it easy.

And take it easy I did. Dun Dun Dun. (Dramatic, descending piano music)

Rather then organize my photos by any theme, I include here, those that were fun, and that have interesting or personally meaningful content. I did take a few evening walks with Mattias to try and get Nimbus to nap (a challenging and admirable feat, as the little man is just explosively energetic), and so took some photos of the famous Göte Canal, which they live right next to.

Otherwise, we took a trip to Göteborg (Gothenburg), went to a number of beautiful lakes nestled in the woods and to Jennifer’s parents’ summer cottage. We ate a lot, drank beer together, played pool, watched Swedish films, talked, and drank coffee. I even got to go to a “native” birthday party, where I sat grinning nervously like a big stupid idiot until I felt the effects of the beer enough to sit back and try and speak Swedish with them. It was the same from their end, I do believe. It was a nice way to see how good my Swedish really is. Or is not, it’s hard to say.

I can’t omit the fact that there was an astounding number of trampolines in the community, and whether nationally Swedish, or local, the phenomenon was one suitable to my trampoline-ing disposition.

Yes,… I jumped.

One other thing worth mentioning is that I ate pizza that had French fries on top of it. It was a regular menu item, was really tasty and comes highly recommended. If you won’t try it because it seems weird and your one of those unadventurous, “ewe ewe” people, I pity you. You’re missing out.

“What, Maynays n taters, I ain’t eatn nuna it! I’ma frickin American!!” (Southern accent)

Meow!!

Please try this and let me know what you think.

Yes, Sweden was wonderful and I plan to go back soon. I was amazed to go there and realize that I have such good friends in such a far off place, in some small town in a “strange” country, where people sound like this:

“Lurdy durdy burgen. Hurdy durdy lurdy. Byorgen Dyurgen Byergen. OOdy Doody foody. OODY DOODY GOODY!”

That is a cool feeling.

Göteborg-Here are photos of our trip to Gothenburg. There may be a car photo or two from other days, but I like these. Once again, some of these were taken by Jennifer, and I think also by Mattias in the city.

We went to a few lakes and I include photos from a couple different ones. (Jennifer took some of these photos)

Lakes and Fields-I think that one of my favorite things about Sweden is the sky and many flat fields and the lakes mixed together. The sky in the north is beautiful in general, and I find myself taking photos of things that look good to me as backdops for the sky more than of the things themselves.

Radio Tower- I don't know why, but I was really obsessed with this out of use silo/radio tower and took far too many pictures of it. Perhaps I am also including too many here, but I really loved it.

A few More Images of Iceland

2006-09-20T08:25:00.000+01:00

I have a few more photos of Iceland that I had liked for some reason, and had hoped to post, that were just not suitable for the entries. I include those here before I continue with my trip.

Reykjavik

2006-08-30T15:17:00.000+01:00

Reykjavik- With a population of 293,577 (according to figures calculated December 2004) Iceland’s capital city, Reykjavik, bears around 60% of the county’s population, 200,000 or so people. This is certainly noticeable when you are outside of the city on your tour bus, loving it, just totally chilled out, relaxed, taking it in, watching the passing landscape, talking to people, feeling the bounce of the bus seat, the clean, mechanical breeze of the air condish blowing softly on your face. Just,.. you know, doing it.

When you look out your bus window, there is nobody out there. I was really surprised by this. If you go for a hike in the Immigrant Wilderness in the Sierra Nevadas in California, though you feel you are way out in the middle of nowhere, you are bound to run into someone. There is a special kind of desolation in the interior of Iceland that I have never found in the small towns or nature areas I have been in inside the U.S. I know that has much to do with the fact that I have not been in very many in the U.S., but still.

So yes, Reykjavik is by all means a city. The thing is, even with 60% of the nations population, it is still a small, somewhat quaint, city. It would compare to Portland, Oregon in some distant ways with regards to feel and visual attractiveness, but to Eugene, Oregon, when considering size. Strangely, I am not just using Oregon cities for comparison because I have been living there for the last two years, but also because Oregon has a strangely Scandinavian (Nordic if including Iceland and Finland) quality to it, both in its philosophies and somehow, its feel. I wouldn’t carry the comparison very far past there though.

Reykjavik is more novel, of course, because the people are speaking Icelandic, the closest language to (or really, The language) that the Vikings spoke. Well, I guess it is novel also because I don’t live there. Still, the city is clean, colorful, well designed, certainly aesthetically pleasing and interesting.

One thing I noticed after a short while of being there, was an unusually high number of young mothers pushing strollers around the city. It was not that there were tons of 16 year-old mothers carting dirty babies through the city (though that would have been creepy and kind of cool, somehow), but the average age seemed 18-27. I guess Iceland, and therefore Reykjavik, has been experiencing a population boom.

In fact, while busing around the city (on a city bus, not the plush comfort chariots that tourists ride in) I passed through surprisingly large areas where whole neighborhoods were in mid-construction. Now, there is logic to a high amount of construction being done in summer because there is such a long and cold winter to make it impossible then, but this is not just roadwork and some buildings being put up. This is large neighborhoods, suburbs; Rows and rows of newly built apartments, houses, etc. being quickly constructed. It was eerie, really. I was amazed.

In speaking about this population boom, and Iceland’s economy, I heard two overall different perspectives. What has happened in Iceland is that a few sickeningly wealthy people (bank owners) have begun purchasing banks and industries all over Norden, and particularly in Denmark. This is somewhat funny ironic, or just purely intentional, because Iceland was under Denmark’s imperial net for years (until around the 2nd world war). I heard that they don’t think so much of this in Denmark. Anyhow, the thing is, some people are waiting for a crack and a crash in this booming economic frenzy. There are signs of boom everywhere, rampant spending and debt galore, but can it continue?

So I spoke with a few people who said they were just waiting for the crash, which makes sense to me, while on the other side I heard the argument that this was the beginning of Iceland’s ultimate placement on the map; The new beginning. Progress, presence, development, refinement, all of those creepy words that people like George Bush say when they are talking about tearing huge holes in delicately functioning systems in the hopes of something outrageous. I certainly hope that Iceland just continues to prosper, but I think it would take some slow, patient, well-planned path to do so. Hopefully the growth will slow down and then stabilize, rather than hit a rut.

Regardless of all of this uninformed musing and meandering, Reykjavik is a fantastic city, and I would put it in the “100 Places You Should See Before You Die” category.
I hope these photographs capture some of the city’s beauty and charm.

Bláa lónið-Blue Lagoon

2006-08-29T08:41:00.000+01:00

Blue Lagoon- This is a particularly famous spot in Iceland, due to the fact that it is totally frickin awesome.

I must note, I didn’t think much of the fact that I was taking all of my pictures in black and white until I was about to leave. I realized how dumb it was because, of course, one of the greatest features of the lagoon is the intense, light blue color of the water, and it is a one-click process to change color photos into black and white using my computer. This generally won’t affect the photo quality either, so now I have taken more in color. I personally just like the black and white photos over color.

The battery light on my camera actually started blinking when I began photographing, so I attempted to take as many photos in as little time as possible. I took the photos of people swimming until my battery died out and then went into the lagoon myself. I realized my error afterward and then caught the color photos with a lucky, last heave-ho my battery made after sitting in the dressing room for a time thus, the blue-watered photo included. This photo is of a pool outside the lagoon, but of the same color water. I am happy I was able to get this so you can see how nice.

Besides all of this, it was difficult to photograph and focus on my goal of ultimate photo coverage when there was this luring pool of warm, mineral saturated water calling me into it.

It was fantastic, the water, a nice 104 degrees F., and though it was sunny, a cool breeze made it more tolerable. I just waded slowly around each corner of the lagoon until I found a nice slope I could sit on with my waist down submerged in the spring. For whatever reason, sitting there I had the sudden, overwhelming realization of how bizarre it was that I was in Iceland. I never thought much of it until this point. I never imagined I would go to Iceland. Pretty wild.

I had met no Swedes (I study Swedish language) so far on my travels and was suddenly surrounded by the glorious sounds of the Swedish language. Thinking I was pretty cool, I spotted a mother and her sons close by and said in Swedish, “so, you guys are from Sweden?” I probably had one of those, “oh yeah, check me out” looks on my face.

“We’re actually from Norway,” she said back in Norwegian. We had a cute, short-lived conversation until I had to ask her to repeat herself too many times because I got caught up by some of her Norwegian words, and we both knew we could speak English and move along at a much nicer pace.

Her husband came over and we all three spoke for a while. They asked me questions about my future plans, reasons for speaking Swedish, being in Iceland, etc. (the worst questions to ask me) and I spoke at length about my opinions regarding the U.S. and its current political and social situation. They listened politely until they realized I wasn’t going tell them I think the world should be forced to embrace some watered-out, neo-fundamentalist, evangelical, North American version of Christianity and agree to support the U.S. in whatever evidence-absent, financially driven, conspiracy-based, hopefully Armageddon-inducing war on “terror,” our unwise and hopelessly incompetent, small minded, ape-like president stutters for support for while attempting, nervously, to discern the babble someone with a lot more verbal richness and personal gain at stake, is whispering into his ear through his head set.

They then unloaded some of their problems they had with the U.S. onto me in a quick fit, but, bored with being all serious and concerned (everyone does, I need to calm down) and clearly happy to have met such a strange bird in a strange place, they said goodbye politely and left.

Anyhow, Iceland is famous for its harnessing of volcanic energy through the use of geothermal power-plants. I wont pretend to know tons about it, but they dig deep boreholes into the ground and channel the boiling water up into the power plant, which utilizes both the boiling water itself, and the steam it produces to perpetuate the process of pumping the hot water, and the resultant freshwater, to outlying locations. I went to the famous Nesjavellir Geothermal power plant, which I was going to include a whole entry on, but did not photograph enough of. The funding was given from a number of different countries and Japanese engineers helped produce it. The location is stunning, and the machinery impressive. I recommend having a look online, where you will likely find a good description of the process.

Hallgrímskirkja

2006-08-28T13:45:00.000+01:00

Hallgrímskirkja- Atop Skolavordustigur (a main street in downtown Reykjavik) is Hallgrímskirkja. This was a really great spot because it provides a fine view of the city, but it also allowed to me to work on my “art photography” skills. The lighting inside was wonderful and I enjoyed myself trying to get really deep into the “art photography” universe. I didn’t make it that far in, but I like the photos I took anyhow. I lay the photos out here as a walk up to, into, and then out of, the church.

Though I find no deep peace or divine awe in the presence of large structures built to attempt producing just such feelings in the religious faithful, it was a nice interior, simple and open, with a few less tourists than many spots. I beat them to it on this day. As you can see in the last photo, they were gathering outside to breathe the life out of the surrounding trees and innocent bystanders. For a moment, I thought I might be one of them, but then I realized I have a few years left before I am jilted into their world. I feel it coming on quickly though. I feel afraid.

Geysir

2006-08-28T10:59:00.000+01:00

Geysir- According to many dependable online sources, Iceland is one of the most volcanically active locations on the globe. They have had 30 eruptions since their settlement around the 9th century post Jesus times, and have around 200 post-glacial volcanoes. This is immediately obvious when you take the first roadway from the Keflavik airport. Volcanic fields stretch from either side of the road, giving you the sensation that you landed on mars, or the moon.

Of course all of my tourist adventures were also centered very much around the sight of different volcanic locations, given their strange beauty and peculiarity. In the middle ages many in the Catholic Church believed Iceland’s largest volcano, Hekla, to be the house of the unholy, or Hell, if you will. You Catholic Church, so silly sometimes!! I don’t believe many people were thinking they were taking a tour to visit the entrance to Hell, given that most people know the entrance is way down, down below the earth somewhere, but that doesn’t reduce the natural beauty and strangeness of volcanoes or volcanically produced landscapes.

One location we stopped at was Geysir, a hole in the ground where volcanically heated water spouts up high into the air every five or so minutes. The boiling water is channeled up towards the surface and begins to boil on its way. This water naturally turns into steam and since it is in a confined passageway, and steam takes up more volume than water, it produces an “explosion” of sorts, pushing the water above it out of the opening in the earth. Very cool.

Gullfoss

2006-08-26T14:49:00.000+01:00

Gullfoss- This is a beautiful spot you will see in every tour book of Iceland (Well, all of these places could be seen, likely through more expert, appealing photographs, in any guidebook. But these babies are mine, testament to my having stepped foot upon Icelandic soil). Nevertheless, I had to include these photos because this spot was majestic and beautiful and I loved it.

I was told that there were plans to sell the location and convert it into a hydroelectric power plant. In protest, a local women chained herself to a rock (I think it was a rock? Maybe a tree) resulting in the cancellation of the sale, and the preservation of this sight, giving me the opportunity to see it. I don’t think she realized how much joy she was giving one very important American man-boy in doing what she did. Wow. There is a plaque commemorating her deed on the sight.

Eat your heart out U.S. environmentalists, protesters and monkey wrench gangers. A protest that actually eluded the slippery, conniving, slight-of-hand work corporate monsters, lawyers and politicians in the U.S use to get almost anything they want. I was moved by this story by any means.
UHHH! Sorry, I slipped up there.

Þingvellir

2006-08-26T14:08:00.000+01:00

Þingvellir- (Thingveh-tlir) or “General Assembly.” As described in many of the Icelandic sagas, this was the spot of one of the oldest parliaments in the western world. It was thought to be established around 930 and used until around 1798.

In Iceland around this time, power was distributed among local chiefs called Goðis (Go-thies) who were stationed throughout the island. They were more-or-less landowners who were powerful enough to rally people around them by being their landlord/indebted protector and who made decisions regarding punishment and compensation for crime.

They had a complicated legal system, though it was in some ways more of a systemized attempt to regulate violence and crime through a competition of wit and physical strength. This often manifested itself as blood feuds and more violence. For example, the convicted could challenge the offended to a duel over receiving a proper sentence, so giving his physical prowess legal precedence over punishment and the fact that he just stole or killed a family member or close friend of the offended.

The people would meet here annually at the “Thing” to try and settle such disputes over murder, property, etc. that could not be settled locally. A man called a law speaker would stand in the center of this divide and yell out the laws so everyone could hear it and try and settle their disputes with his lawyer-like guidance. So it was a kind of complicated and process-oriented lawlessness. O.J. Simpson would have done well there with his football induced physical strength and his cunning for “working the system.” Iceland was eventually Christianized around 1000 C.E. and integrated into the fold of the protestant Christian west.

And Finally, an Entry!

2006-08-26T12:15:00.000+01:00

I have been in Tampere, Finland now since 1 August following brief travels in Iceland and Sweden. Due to an extended “settling in period” including the discovery of Macintosh-unfriendly web service provisions here in my University living quarters, I wasn’t able to spend very much time online.

Additionally, I was waiting for divine inspiration to write this, but it recently dawned on me there were no gods, daemons or divinities anywhere around here to help me out. Besides, I have no clue how to summon or appease such entities, so sadly, you will have to bear with me and endure what has lately felt like a barely monolingual writing capability.

I wanted to avoid posting lists of daily activities and new friends, as can be luring to write when you are trying to inform others of your travels, but if this degenerates into that, I apologize in advance. Also, I am sorry if my writing at times sounds strained, crass or too personal, as I have tried to start this about 10 times, and will now just “let it ride,” as some people might say at times. Meow!

So, now that I have provided myself with some “disclaimer insurance,” I will try and tell you a little about my trip. Tervetuloa!! (that means welcome in Finnish, which itself is called “suomea”)

Iceland
Iceland is absolutely amazing and mysterious. If any of the “100 Places You Must See Before You Die” books don’t include Iceland, than those ones were certainly written by sadly unreliable, perhaps even brutally depressed or intoxicated authors. Or, they were edited by lethargic, uninterested boofs, who are losing their touch and may even have detrimentally hopeless drug habits.

You could go get fondled in Paris while trying to fulfill some weird, creepy romantic fantasy that has been perpetuated by countless low grade and quality films alike over the years, or you could go to Mexico and live it up for spring break, showing people your pasty boobs or bunzes (with a z). Or, you can go to Iceland and maybe do all of these things while seeing some of the most bizarre and awesome landscapes in the known world.

I have to mention before I go on that I forfeit all official authority, given I am 25 and don’t even have a Bachelor’s degree, making me a wholly unreliable source of information. In addition, I haven’t traveled all that much, giving me little room for comparison. I do know that with the combination of its far northern location on the globe at 65’00 N 18’00 W and its volcanic, geographical characteristics, there is really nowhere else on the earth quite like Iceland.

On my trip I didn’t experience youth-reinvigorating romance or show my bunzes (with a z) to anyone in Iceland. I didn’t even experience a morsel of the wild nightlife that many sources mention and which one can catch a however hyped-up glimpse of in the novel based film “101 Reykjavik.” (Recommended if you would like to catch a view of modern Reykjavik.)

One thing I did do was wake early each morning and walk around alone photographing everything I could. I even spent one full day hopping on and off a tour bus with a crowd of dream-team-tourists, none of which I became acquainted with due to their painfully sterile, mood threatening dullness. I got my best photos on this tour, however.

Though tours can dry out the soul, it is highly recommended to take such a tour in Iceland, as you can see a lot of it in a short time. These tours can also be a cost effective way to see Iceland, which is unbelievably expensive. Even a youth hostel will put you on or around $100/night, unless booked well in advance. Food is also outrageously expensive. Of course room prices vary by season, but I would say going in summer is the best time, unless you would have the luck to stay there and experience a full seasonal cycle, which would be great.

I lucked out and had the fortune to stay with an incredibly hospitable and accommodating family (Thank you Stina, Bini and sons, And Abby for the reference). Sadly, due to the limited time we could spend together, I did not get around to photographing them and so cannot show them here. Not only did they make my stay surprisingly comfortable, (and more affordable), but I realized there is no better way to get a quick, genuine and detailed perspective of life in a different country than to stay with “the natives,” even for a short stay. We didn’t have tons of time to get to know each other, but we had dinner, great conversations and stayed up late listening to music pretty much each night.

Will add more later, including photos

2006-08-21T06:28:00.000+01:00