A Life in Waiting

I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t seem to get my writing juices flowing when I am home.  Even though I am not “home”, the apartment we have here still has a home feeling to me.  Not sure I can explain it, but almost all of the posts written here on this blog have been written in either a coffee house, bar, restaurant or outside at a park.  Not sure the significance of this just thought you’d like to know.

Monday we head back to the Dog Hut and begin getting ourselves ready for everything that needs to be done.  I get final measurements and tweak the layout.  Maria starts doing whatever it is she needs to do.  Tuesday morning Maria’s father, Raul, comes and picks me up with his car and trailer and we go shopping at the local Home Depot called BauHaus.  It is the German version of the Home Depot chain popular in the US, and it is HUGE.  Bigger than any HD I’ve seen.  We load the trailer to the gills and head back to the Hut of Dogs.  The next 5 days are spent pretending to be a carpenter and making 6 huts that will house the visiting dogs for overnight stays.  During this period there’s a fair amount of yelling, screaming, fighting and bleeding.  Mostly by me.  Two weeks away from the working world and I’m a mess.  And let’s not forget about the simple little problem of the lack of the imperial system.  Metric is easier my ass!  No matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find an imperial tape measure so the whole project was done with a metric one.  Oh and did I mention that I designed the whole project in inches and feet?  So yeah, fun stuff.

So we finish enough of the project that we need to, as Maria has 4 dogs coming into the compound on Christmas night.  So Sunday night we head back out to her parents with basically all of our possessions including a dog and a cat as we are spending the next couple of nights there for the holiday. 

Nothing like a little Frank to get you in the mood to start writing about your past few weeks away from good ole New York, New York.  I just sat down at a quaint little local pub, right here in Töölo where Ria and I live, and as I pulled out my laptop, Frank Sinatra came on the overhead speakers to ready me for the task that I’ve been putting off for too long.  I’m actually sitting in the non-smoking section of the bar.  See, most of Europe has adopted the no smoking in bars/restaurant law, but some places (such as Helsinki) have different stipulations that home.  I don’t know the actual wording, but basically you can have dedicated smoking and non smoking sections in the pubs as long as there’s plenty of space and ventilation to keep it separated from the non-smokers.  However this place, Fellows Bar, has a non smokers section, as opposed to a smokers section.  First one I’ve seen.  So naturally I have the room to myself.  Heh.

I have been debating on how to write about the past 2 weeks.  Should I write them as if I wrote them as the events took place, or should I just do a small recount of the time since they weren’t overly exciting?  As my memory is not too sharp these days, a recount would probably be the best way to go, not to mention that I have been wanting to speak about plenty of other things, that are not really chronologically correct.  So here goes.

So I really never got a chance to say much about Finland at all.  Other than I landed safely and will be spending Christmas here.  So I landed here at Vantaa/Helsinki airport on December 12^th and was greeted at the gate by Maria and Lexi.  After being mauled by the two of them, we hopped in the car and headed to Töölo, a section of Helsinki where our flat is.  Now remember I pretty much stayed up throughout the night to ensure I caught the 4am sardine can to the Milanese airport.  So I am quite exhausted at this point.  We get back to the flat at around 11am and it’s a rare 40deg F and sunny outside.  Not the Finland I was expecting.  In fact, I have never seen the Finland I was expecting, as I have been in this country during the months of November, December, January, and February and have yet to see any snow, ice or frigid temperatures.  I think Maria’s just been exaggerating this whole time about her “brutal” winters in Finland.  Phishing for sympathy I would guess.

So after her rather persistent cousin forces his way in to see me that morning, Ria and I just relax and eat a nice home cooked meal before I pass out for the duration.  The next few days were spent trying to regain my bearings in this city I visit for a week or so every year.  We met her cousin out again and also one of Maria’s best friends, Annette.  We all go watch this rather crappy parade in downtown Helsinki and then go grab a bite of food.  Afterwards we head up to one of the older and more prominent hotels in the city to their rooftop bar that overlooks the whole city for drink and to toast Maria’s new business venture as she had signed her contract earlier that day. 

New business venture.  While back in states and towards her last few weeks in New York, Maria shadowed a local doggy daycare owner to learn all there is to learn to run such a business.  As it would be much more difficult to run a horse training in Finland as it was in the states, Maria realized that she needed to find a new path to career fulfillment if she wanted to successfully stay out of the corporate world that she loathed so much.  So the world of dogs seemed to be the best alternative for her.  (and I’m sure that her unhealthy obsession with Cesar Milan didn’t hurt either) 

In the month that she had spent here in Finland sans me, see got her business registered, a loan secured at a local bank and found a suitable space to house such a project.  Now all she needed was a grunt to do all the heavy lifting.  So all day Friday and Saturday are spent measuring, drawing a suitable plan for the dog pens, and driving around all over the area to find out what kind of building materials are available to build with. 

After finishing up with our errands, we head to Maria’s parents house in Espoo, a neighboring city for dinner and to begin the Christmas gingerbread cookie and house construction.  It was great to see Aila and Raul again, they are truly wonderful people.  So warm and welcoming, I feel very comfortable in their home.  We enjoy an incredible home cooked meal and then have drinks as the women prepare the dough and bake the gingerbreads.  As the gingerbread process is a two day process, we end up spending the night.

Sunday morning Raul lets me raid his rather extensive tool collection so I can begin constructing the dog huts in the following days.  After dropping off all the tools at the dog hut, we swing through the city, grab Rasmus, Maria’s brother, and head back out to Espoo.  The rest of the afternoon was spent decorating the cookies and building and decorating the house.  That evening we head back into the city.

Well this is getting long, so I will stop here and continue above. 

I am now here in Helsinki, Finland.  I arrived on Wednesday morning on my flight from Milano, Italy.  It’s been great to see Maria, Lexi and Lil Shit for the first time in about a month.

The past two days have been pretty filled between seeing some of our friends here in the city and also getting Maria’s business up and running.  She signed the contracts for her new space yesterday, so the construction project begins.  Lucky for her, she just imported some cheap immigrant labor to get everything done for her on the cheap.

We are heading to her parents this weekend to begin the Christmas traditions by baking and constructing gingerbreads.  I’ll have a little more free time to write while there, so I’ll try to get down all that has happened over the past few days.

Until then, Moi!  (goodbye in Finnish)

So I head out this morning at 4:00 and head back to the central station in Milano.  I arrive right on time as the bus for the Milano Malpensa airport is loading up.  Who would’ve thought that at 4:00 on a Wednesday morning that an 80 person bus would be full?  Man talk about a can of sardines.  And the worst part is that for the full hour ride to the airport, my knees are touching the seat in front of me and I’m halfway leaning into the aisle as the seats are designed for pygmies. 

After I stretch myself back into shape, I board a plane so tight, that my laptop is jammed against the seat in front of me and the other end jammed into my gut.  Thankfully I moved my seat so I had no neighbor in front to recline.  Otherwise I don’t think I’d be typing this right now.  In fact I might just stop as this is not a great position.

So I am heading into Helsinki to give my life a moment of stability.  For the next month minimum I will reside in Finland.  I’ll help Maria get things going with her Dog Hut and will try to get myself settled with all my trip plans.  I just can’t wait to sleep.  Sleep late and long and as many days as I want.  Are you reading this Maria?  I’m sleeping the first week. 

Alright, this computer is not working here so I’m off.  See you all in Helsinki…

So the train ride through the Alps ended up being pretty uneventful.  Nice scenery, some cute mountain towns, but nothing outer worldly.  The one piece that does continue to stick in my head…..NO FRIKKIN SNOW!  I could’ve ridden across!  Damnit!  All well, it might’ve ended up being sketchy, because the roads were wet and it did get dark quickly as the journey through was quite long.  But man, I could’ve done it. 

So I make my transfer in Verona and hop on my train to Milano.  Again not a whole lot of excitement, I just have plenty of time to do a bit of writing and thinking about this trip of mine.  I have only been at it for 1 week so far, and already I have met some wonderful people, and had some pretty memorable moments.  I’m really glad I decided to put as much down on this site, as to not forget all that does happen. 

Arrival at Milano Central Station begins yet another adventure.  As it turns out, Italians don’t like to label anything.  At all.  First I have trouble just getting out of the building.  No exit has a street name or area associated with it, just little white men running on green backgrounds.  So as I hinted to before, I was able to contact a Milanese couchsurfer by the name of Carlo Rizzante.  I ring his handy and he informs me that the 1 line address that he had previously texted to me was all I need to get to his place 300m away.  I question him on the directions and he answers quickly making me feel like I really should know what I’m doing.

Sooo, I venture off into one direction, and cannot find a street sign.  So I go back into the station and look around for a map station.  None.  Ok, so I go out a different exit hoping that this exit was the side that had street signs.  Nope.  Alright so back into the central station and finally find a map station.  The only maps they have are the bright yellow, fold out to the size of your living room kind.  Still being pigheaded, I decide to give it one more go before putting on the tourist cap.  Mind you I am carrying a fully loaded backpack and lugging a quite large and heavy duffel bag over my shoulder.  I’m worried about the tourist cap, but yet I’m already wearing the cape.

So my third attempt yields about as much as the first two.  Now I’m getting tired and pissed.  I go back inside, purchase the 4Euro bright yellow map and find a dark corner to hide in.  I open up a map larger than my first apartment and try to quickly and precisely find the central station.  Nope.  Are you kidding me?!?!?  I turn it over and over and finally just fold it up and jam it into my bag.  I can find this place even if it takes me all night.

So I venture back out into the dark streets of Milano hoping that pure intuition will lead me to my destination.  About five minutes in my pilgrimage, Carlo texts me again asking how lost I am and that he is home waiting for me.  Deciding to forgo any ego that I might still have, I call him up and ask for directions again.  Well as it turns out I can’t even seem to locate myself well enough in the city to give Carlo a chance for giving me directions.  Rather he has me wait in front of a large hotel while he has to come and find me.  Milano 1, Mikie 0.

So Carlo finds a completed defeated version of me out front and guides me to his flat.  As it turns out, Italians don’t use street signs.  They put the names of their streets on the corners of the nearest building to the entrance of the street.  Chiseled stone signs the same color as the building they are stuck to.  How could I ever have missed them?

The one major difference I’ve noticed between Italians and other European nationalities I’ve been around is their comfort level.  That might not be the right way to phrase it, but I’m not sure how else to put it.  Whenever I’ve hung out with a group of Finns, Swedes or Germans the language seems to always be in favor of my presence, meaning English.  Very courteous and polite but different altogether from how the Italians behave.   Not that they were being rude by any means, but rather seemed more comfortable in speaking their native tongue with a non speaker in the room.  Whenever something pertained to me or was just interesting in general, someone always filled me in and made sure I understood.  But with the other nationalities, it seems like they are uncomfortable with speaking in their tongue, with a non speaker in the midst.  I appreciate both ideals for different reasons.  With the Italians, I know less of what’s going on, but don’t feel like such an inconvenience to the ones around me.  With the others, I am fully aware of all conversations and feel very much part of the conversations, I feel a bit guilty that they must always cater to my lack of knowledge of their language. 

So as you might have assumed by now, it was not just Carlo and myself for the evening.  First off, his on/off girlfriend Gabriella stops by.  Tall, slender and quite stylish, Gabriella was what one assumed an Italian woman living in Milano would look like.  Next arrived Jocopo (sp?), Carlo’s roommate.  And then finally, Valentina.  Valentina Giordano to be precise.  Valentina  is actually a couchsurfer from Bologna, Italia who had actually surfed with Carlo and Jocopo a few weeks prior.  She was in town again as she is looking for a flat, and was invited over for dinner. 

What might be just a regular evening for these guys, as they have been constantly hosting, was quite amazing for me.  Even though I didn’t speak the language well, I felt very comfortable being amongst this group.  First Jocopo started cooking as Carlo set the table and popped open the first bottle of wine.  Yes the first, implying that there might be more to come.  Conversation as with most Italian dinners tends to be the main objective.  We all just sit around, talk and drink the wine.  After a little appetizer consisting of fresh bread and Russian salad, dinner is served.  Penne is a fresh tomato sauce with brie melted into the sauce.  Short on ingredients, but not flavor.  The rest of the evening was spent killing some more wine and getting more relaxed with one another.  Nothing crazy, just a really good night with friends.  What more can any couchsurfer ask for?

As I need to leave the flat to go to the airport at 4:00, I decide to stay up and get some work done.  We all say goodbye and goodnight as everyone either leaves or heads to bed.  I get a bit of work done, then decide an hour nap wouldn’t kill me.