Lost, but will be found…? (Day 68: Proekt 365)

Day 68: Proekt 365 Lost, and to be found?

Day 68: Proekt 365
Lost, and to be found?

Evidently, Helsinki is the most honest city on the planet. There are signs of this simple truth all around if you just know what to look for.

Today, I spied this lovely little mitten which someone had placed very visibly along one of the paths near our flat. Hopefully, its owner will find it soon enough. It’s lovely and bright in an otherwise colourless landscape and far too beautiful to be without its mate.

Yesterday, I found one of my own gloves which I’d dropped a little closer to home. As we left yesterday afternoon to run a few errands, I notice one of my gloves on the windowsill in our stairwell. Honestly, I didn’t even know I’d lost it! (Thanks to the person who found it!)

You’d be amazed at the items you spot along paths and routes all over the place. We’ve seen reading glasses, scarves, pacifiers, gloves and mittens (obviously) along with a number of different types and styles of hats. Sometimes, they remain there for ages. Others disappear, hopefully after finding their way home.

The general rule seems to be to place the item so that it is roughly at eye level. This can be a challenge given the range of heights for most folks in Helsinki. But, you want to situate the item such that it is obviously waiting to be found. Trees are the most common place lost things are hung so that they may be discovered. Bus stops and benches are also likely spots for the unclaimed and forgotten stuff unintentionally left behind.

It’s nice seeing these little reminders of compassion amongst fellow residents. And, hopefully, all those items which were lost will be found if not by their owners then at least by someone who will appreciate them.

Phenomenal Women (Day 66: Proekt 365)

Day 66: Proekt 365 International Women's Day

Day 66: Proekt 365
International Women’s Day

The 8th of March is International Women’s Day. During my time in Russia, it was a time of year when all of the men and most women celebrated the ladies in their lives. Men showered women with flowers and raised their glasses to toast the fabulousness that is women. Women, much like every other day, celebrated and supported one another, but with just a bit more sense of sisterhood and infinitely more booze.

As a woman and as a feminist, I’d rather not just have one day when the work, worth, beauty and burdens faced by all women are given the spotlight. I’d rather we applaud ourselves and are celebrated every day. I’d rather we were equally rewarded, equally valued and equally represented in all aspects of life and in every corner. I’d rather we worked towards righting the injustices and eliminating the gender-specific barriers which make life more difficult for women every single day until they were a distant memory.

Still, the fact that I’m admittedly privileged is not lost on me—my husband is a feminist (and at times more so than I am!), I live in a society which places great value on the work of women domestically and beyond the home and I am afforded specific protections which prohibit discrimination against me based solely on my private parts. These are all great things, and for them I am grateful.

That isn’t the case for all women. Far, far too many women. And, not just those who live in lesser developed places, but also women who live in my own society. Whether it is allowing women and girls to attend school, work outside the home, drive, vote, voice their opinions, marry whom they love / wish, choose when and under what conditions to have children or when and with whom to have sex, every day should be an opportunity to make gender equity and justice a reality. For all women. Because all women are of value. All women are beautiful. And, all women should be celebrated. In all our diversity.

On this International Women’s Day, the words of the brilliant Maya Angelou come to mind. Whilst recognising and grieving for the difficulties and outright horrific conditions in which some women are forced to live, I am mindful today (and everyday) of just how amazing women are. Here’s to all of the truly phenomenal women in the world, particularly those who have enriched my life so, so much.

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need for my care.
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Maya Angelou, ‘Phenomenal Woman’ from And Still I Rise. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou. Used by permission of Random House, Inc.

Day 65: Proekt 365 (Lost in translation…)

Day 65: Proekt 365 Lost in Translation

Day 65: Proekt 365
Lost in Translation

Life took over and threw a few curve balls. The busy-ness of work and a few days of unfortunate news resulted in a short hiatus from the posts which are Proekt 365. Despite a lack of posts, I have been taking time out each day to revel in the little bits of goodness around me. And, there are many even on the gloomiest of days.

Today, though, provided a bit of comedic relief. I’ve recently returned to the life of gym bunnies and joined a local fitness centre. It’s a great, no frills sort of place, with a dedicated women’s only section. No classes, no annoyingly cheerful and well-toned (if not ridiculously young) staff watching to make you feel even more self-conscious—just a bunch of equipment and locker rooms and 24/7 access. And, others hoping to get fit and stay in shape.

In addition to being generally impressed with how low-maintenance the whole process has been thus far, many of the signs hung throughout are written not just in Finnish, of which I understand nothing, but also feature English. I greatly appreciate this bi-lingual attention. But, it also provides a bit of insight as my friend pointed out in just how different English and Finnish are to one another.

Case in point, the picture above. The upper portion of the sign in the Finnish seems a little less cumbersome and wordy in English. The information in both languages, according to my friend whose Finnish is amazing, is the same. It just takes a bit more work to convey the same message in Finnish, evidently.

Oh, Finland. With signs like this, my hope of ever learning any of your native language is once again dashed. Ah well.

It just makes me all the more appreciative of how incredibly awesome Finns’ English is. In another moment from today, I had to phone my bank. The first person who answered the phone told me in absolutely perfect English that, no, she did not speak English. But, if I could hold the line, she would get someone else who did. (I swear, her accent was absolutely perfect and her language skills were flawless!)

Lost in translation, indeed.

Day 55: Proekt 365 (Blackbird singing…)

There is something so comforting and uplifting about the first songs of the various birds as they return to our neighbourhood each spring. Some of these birds return much earlier than we ever expect. Some disappear far too soon with summer solstice. But, from the Annoying Bird of Spring to the plentiful blackbirds and nightingales, we’ll take them all. And, most of all, we’ll delight in their songs.

Yesterday evening as The Cuban and I enjoyed the lengthening day which also marks the beginning of the end of winter and the imminent arrival of spring, we were delighted to hear the blackbird’s song and its return to our hood.

For whatever reason, both of us love the blackbird above all others. Its song is so joyful, almost playful. Even the worst days are made somehow better when the blackbird sings from high atop the trees across the street from our flat. Maybe it’s that its song rings loudest at the end of the day just before darkness descends, somehow serving as a beacon to guide us home. In the woods near our flat, the blackbird’s song is the loveliest of all. Its resonance and pitch almost light up the woods even as the sun fades below the horizon.

Maybe we simply love the blackbird’s song because we both love the Beatles.

Day 53: Proekt 365 (A story for Caturday)

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So, Saturday is also known as Caturday in this house. In truth, every day is Caturday given the size of our darling beastie’s personality.

But, there was a time when we had not just Che Fufu, but also Kissochka—a thoroughly Russian cat with an equally large presence and personality, although very different to Che Fufu. Kissochka was my cat when The Cuban and I met. Later, we adopted Che Fufu. Kissochka was not amused but was also wildly protective of the tiny furball who invaded her territory. It was ever-so sweet and ever-so confusing.

Today, The Cuban sent me the sweetest of stories retelling this history from his perspective. In my first reading of it, I didn’t realise it was his writing for whatever reason, although I chalk that up to the utter lack of focus I’ve been experiencing today and other issues weighing on my mind. (Also, his writing in English has improved tremendously in the 8+ years we’ve been together!) But, this story is so accurate and so lovely to read given that it’s how he experienced that time, it’s made my Caturday.

So, I give you, his Story for Caturday, unedited and in his own words:

On Pet-religion.

When I was a kid we had a dog and his name was Lobo. That’s Spanish for wolf. Mean Little-Red-Ridding-Hood-for-breakfast kind of dog. It’s easy to see growing up with a dog would make anyone a dog person. But Lobo didn’t last long. My mom had to give him away because he was so protective he wouldn’t let anyone get close to the kids. I still became kind of a dog person because of my dad. He loved dogs and he had a very smart and sweet Doberman. Not so sweet if you crossed the garden fence uninvited.

Growing up in a misogynist patriarchal society meant having a dog was the typical reinforcement of macho attitudes. Cats were for pussies, that was the mindset.

When I finally could live by myself I didn’t get a pet. I always thought a dog was not suitable to live in a small flat. And when asked about pets I would reply I was a dog person. That was the pet-religion inculcated into me.

One day I got a girlfriend with a cat. I would explain I was not a cat person but didn’t mind cats. When she moved in with the cat I started to realize pet-religion was hogwash. I went through long periods of doubt, insecurity and despair thinking I would end up in dog hell.

It was my dad’s suggestion I’d take some quantum physics that led me to solve my uncertainty. First we had a cat, then a second cat was added to the equation. The cats interacted with each other showing love, hate, and both – love and hate at the same time. I thought it was interesting and sweet… if I was awake. Not so much if I was sleeping and the eye of the cat-storm was passing over my head. How accurate could I predict cat-one’s position knowing cat-two’s momentum? It was all too complicated but the fact Schrodinger used a cat for his famous entanglement experiment made me see the light in the end.

I guess the point of the story is let your child grow up to decide which pet to worship.

And this is how I became a Catheist.

Day 52: Proekt 365 (Sweetness in the morning)

Day 52: Proekt 365 Sweetness in the Morning

Day 52: Proekt 365
Sweetness in the Morning

Today was an odd day. I woke up entirely too early (~5 am) and in a rather annoyed mood. The mood subsided quickly, but by about 14.00 this afternoon I needed much more caffeine and a disco nap. My plan for a proper vehicle for the go-go juice didn’t quick work out as I’d hoped or intended, and there was no disco nap. First World Problems at their finest, eh?

It wasn’t a bad day at all. Just surreal, largely due to a lack of sleep which resulted in a complete inability to focus or make a quick decision of any kind.

But, all of the best-laid plans which didn’t quite work out and all the annoyances of the day don’t really matter.

I snapped this photo this morning as my darling furry beast slept sweetly and soundly with my other not nearly so furry un-beast. It melts my heart now along with all the annoyances of the day immediately, just as it did when I saw them this morning. As I opened the photo this evening, I could also hear her sweet somber-induced snores — The Cat’s not The Cuban’s (yes, she does snore, and quite loudly, too!)

My family. My sweet, sweet family.

Day 51: Proekt 365 ( A new do)

Day 51: Proekt 365 Something there is that loves a new do

Day 51: Proekt 365
Something there is that loves a new do

(NB: I realise this is my second post today, but I’m trying to catch up and post on the proper day rather than a day or two later. Best laid plans and all…:))

Perhaps this won’t mean much to the fellas out there. But, there is nothing quite like getting a new hair cut.

For me, the last time I’d gotten the ‘works’ (cut, colour, style, head massage, etc.) was more than a year ago. For whatever reason, I just hadn’t gotten around to calling my trusty stylist, and months became a year. What a reunion it was.

Juuso is my third stylist in Helsinki. He will be my last. Whenever The Cuban and I decide to leave here, I will want to take Juuso with me simple because he has yet to disappoint me. A friend of mine described his technique as akin to trimming a bonsai. He is so meticulous, so careful with each snip and so incredibly thorough. I never really know if he is done until he takes the drape off and hands me the mirror for the final inspection and approval. And, what’s most important, he always, always, always seems to know precisely what I want done, even when I am not entirely sure myself. In his words, ‘simple, hip and hippie’.

Yeap. That sums it up perfectly.

Today’s reunion was just what this girl needed. I may still look pale and pasty and desperately in need of some sunshine (and iron). But, something as simple as a bit of TLC for the hair made my day. Thank you, Juuso! See you in 2-3 months!

Day 50: Proekt 365 (Coffee for the masses)

Day 50: Proekt 365 Coffee, coffee everywhere; not a drop to drink

Day 50: Proekt 365
Coffee, coffee everywhere; not a drop to drink

Finland consumes more coffee per capita than any other country on the planet, and by quite some margin. On average, 12.0 kg are consumed per coffee capita each year in Finland. (Yes, I did actually type ‘per coffee’ there, before realising what I’d done.) I’m guessing that we lie at the higher end of that particular scale, and possibly represent outliers.

But, I like this stat. In fact, I love it.

Yesterday, a friend and I spied this scene from a renovation site in the Helsinki city centre. Rather appropriate given where we are. We didn’t see any of the individuals who consumed these various cups. Perhaps they were on a coffee break.

Day 49: Proekt 365 (On randomness)

Day 49: Proekt 365 A random find in a random place

Day 49: Proekt 365
A random find in a random place

I’m continually amazed at how meaningful seemingly insignificant moments can bring such pure and simple joy — random finds, random acts and examples of kindness and goodness and chance meetings can make such a huge difference on days which seem mundane. Yesterday, when meeting up with two friends, we sat down at the table to find this tiny little origami scene. A random bit of loveliness on an otherwise dreary day.

So many moments on most days are utterly random and governed not by careful planning but by the intricate and delicate mixture of us and the various pieces in any particular scene. Change one ingredient and the result can be vastly different.

The Cuban and I took a taxi a few days ago and it was without a doubt the best taxi ride ever. Why? Well, the music didn’t hurt (i.e., blues, more specifically, B. B. King) coupled with an amazing sound system the driver was obviously proud of. But, mostly, it was the taxi driver himself. He was chatty from the moment we opened the door and on the entire route home, hilariously witty and obviously enjoying himself as much as we were entertained and amused. The typical taxi ride in Helsinki consists of a whole lot of silence. This ride was anything but that. What made it even more meaningful was just how random it was that we sat in that particular taxi. Best taxi ride ever. We’ll probably never see that guy again, but all other taxi rides will be measured against that one.

Yesterday’s origami find was equally random and no less lovely. As we were searching for a table, we noticed some folks getting ready to leave and waited. Had we not waited or had we arrived either an instant earlier or later, we most probably would have missed the little paper goose, tiny boats and cranes.

Many of the people we meet come into our lives in much the same way. Chance meetings may result in a whole lot of nothing; but, occasionally, they result in life-long bonds which withstand distance and circumstance and time. That The Cuban and I met was somewhat random. So many individual pieces in our lives had to have fallen into place in just the right way, sequence and time to have allowed us to be in Moscow at the right time. Shift any of the pieces and who knows?

Just as the randomness can cause unimaginable chaos, it can also bring boundless delight. I’ll gladly take the chaos just to experience that unexpected delight as much as possible. Bring on the randomness—at the end of the day, it’s a thing to behold and results in one hell of a ride.

Day 48: Proekt 365 (El Día del Maestro)

Day 48: Proekt 365 Día del Maestro

Day 48: Proekt 365
Día del Maestro

This post could easily be entitled ‘Like father, like son: part 2’. But, I’ve opted for Día del Maestro for a reason: today is the birthday of my beloved father-in-law, El Maestro.

If we could, we’d be spoiling him rotten today. Hell, we’d declare it the week of El Maestro and throw the man a parade if we could! Alas, half a world away, we can only send him loads of love from this side of the globe, and that we have in abundance.

He’s a rare treat of a man. Kind. Incredibly witty and bright. Compassionate to a fault. Moments of both brilliance and extreme silliness abound when he is near. Thoughtful. Contemplative. A brilliant cook. And, a great father judging by the quality of the man he raised. As nervous as I was meeting him for the first time, that quickly subsided and all that replaced it was a sense of being home and of being completely accepted as a member of his family. If only I could return a gift that carries a fraction of what that has meant to me.

My only wish is that I spoke Spanish. I’d love to take a class in physics from him—the man is obviously loved by his students and colleagues alike given the number of accolades he’s received and students who continue to surround and adore him. He is El Maestro for a multitude of reasons.

¡Feliz cumpleaños, El Maestro! We’ll save the homemade brownies for you, we’ll always find the Russian mustard for you and our casa is forever your casa. Thank you for being the most awesome father-in-law a girl could ever ask for. ¡Felicidad felicidad felicidad! Besitos x