Kölle alaaf!

Cologne Carnival (Koln Karneval) officially begins on the 11th minute of the 11th hour of November 11th and kick starts their Carnival season which then runs until Ash Wednesday. (From Wikipedia, Karneval derives from the Latin "carne vale,” or "meat – farewell,” marking the beginning of Lent.) While the season is a few months long, the famous street-party Carnival is held during the week before Ash Wednesday. This week is also known as “the crazy days” and I was lucky enough this year to be in Cologne from that Sunday till Ash Wednesday. I can tell you that it definitely lives up to its “crazy days” reputation!

Thankfully, I had lots of help navigating the craziness for my Carnival experience – one of my good friends (and previous managers), Christian, living in SF now but a Cologne native, planned to be back for Carnival this year as it coincided very conveniently with a work conference we both were planning to attend in Frankfurt beginning the Thursday of that week. It was also a great opportunity for him to come home to visit family and friends and partake in the Carnival craziness. I was the lucky one who got to tag along with all the locals.

Christian graciously invited me to join him and his friends for the Carnival parties and we got all the logistical details figured out beforehand. He gave me recommendations on where to stay in Cologne and told me what his plans were for each day and what the major events were. I thought we had everything worked out when, the night before leaving, I got an email asking, “Do you have any costumes with you? You NEED a costume.” I was thinking, “No, I don’t have a costume – I brought 30 pairs of shoes and my sewing machine to Finland – who has room to pack costumes?!” Besides, what was this? The Stanford GSB (where nearly every party is a costume party)? I could barely fit a week’s worth of normal clothing into a carry on and still do not even know where to buy a mop in Helsinki so buying and packing a costume were out of the question. I figured it was a nice to have anyway; probably fine for the locals and unnecessary for the tourists…

Wow was I wrong! Ten hours later I arrived in Cologne and got on the train to the city. (Which, incidentally, was the first time I have had any Euros in hand since I arrived 7 weeks ago. It is amazing how far a credit card will get you these days!) I boarded the train and sat across from a very nice 65-ish couple…dressed in full clown regalia including crazy red wigs, painted faces, decades worth of Cologne Carnival pins and scarves (mementos of each unique Carnival theme), clown shoes, and hauling bags of snacks and alcohol (for the grandkids and kids, respectively, sitting behind them) to get the family through the day. At the next stop some teenage girls got on the train dressed as a bumble bee and some kind of hippie flower. As the clown couple doled out mini sausages to their clan and downed a couple shots (no, not an exaggeration – this is Germany after all!), I realized I might be in trouble on the costume front.

This fear was confirmed when I got off the train in the Cologne city center. I emerged from the train station to find a sea of half-drunk Germans in the Dom Cathedral square dressed as Vikings, bears, more bumble bees, clowns, cowboys, you name it – someone was dressed up as one! Also, to my surprise, I arrived to more snow…I had been hoping to find dry ground in Cologne so I could run outside (probably the worst thing from my perspective about living in a perpetual snow glob e is that I am stuck on a treadmill!) but no such luck – there was snow and slush on the ground and more snow coming down. I spent the afternoon walking around town admiring the very impressive costumes (and getting nervous about the fact that I did not have one of my own) and eating bratwurst and fries in a snowstorm on the street. At this point I did not realize that I would basically be eating the same meal all week.

Christian met me in Cologne that night on our way to the Cologne Arena for a huge German Carnival-specific comedy show. We were basically in an arena concert venue with stadium seats but were allowed to bring in food and drinks for a 6+ hour show – definitely not something I can see happening in the US! Christian’s friends had obviously done this many times before (probably every year of their lives) and were pros at this point – they brought multiple small (so they would fit in the stadium seats) kegs of Kölsh (Cologne’s famous beer), prosecco and red wine for the non-beer drinkers (yay!), and tons of homemade food…meatballs, pastries with various fillings, German donuts called Berliners, cheese, grapes, veggies, etc. It was a feast! I still cannot believe they made all this food and hauled it into the arena!

The show was all in German but I had a blast nonetheless. Of course, I did not understand any of the jokes but the more prosecco you drink the more understanding the language does not seem to matter anymore. Besides, I had gotten remedial German training from Christian on the train on the way to the arena…I knew how to say “ein Kölsch,” ” zwei Kölsch,” “drei Kölsch,” “Kölle Alaaf!,” and “En Kölle jebutz!” among a few other helpful German phrases (one beer, two beers, three beers, Cologne alive! – a literal translation of the typical Carnival cheer, and Kissed in Cologne - this year’s Carnival theme, respectively). The teaching of these phrases proved to be very entertaining to the 16 year-old girl sitting behind me on the train, incidentally, who was giggling as she listened to an adult being taught to count to three…in beers. Christian had also come through and brought me some costumes to borrow for the few party days and that night I was dressed as a Neanderthal (think Wilma Flintstone outfit) which was his mother’s costume in high school.

I had a great time learning the Carnival songs – which are hilarious if you know their translations (see below for some) – and partying with the crowd. I think we were in the arena for almost seven hours of drinking, eating, watching the many performances (and singing along, of course!) sponsored by the classic Carnival characters of the prince, the virgin, and the farmer. (There is some significance to the choice of these three odd characters but I have to admit that I do not know what it is!) The amazing thing was that the more people drank the even more friendly they became. The Germans, at least at Carnival, are very into putting their arms around friends and strangers, whomever’s closest, and singing and swaying to the classic Carnival songs together. Having been to Mardi Gras a couple times this was completely different – no one got sick, no one passed out, no one started a fight, no one flashed anyone for beads, no one did any of the other disgusting things I have seen at Mardi Gras. It was great! I really loved how traditional everything was, particularly the Cologne Carnival songs which have been sung for years, and by the end of 7 hours and multiple rounds of the same songs I could even sing along to (some) of (many) of them. Some excerpts of my favorites:

Viva Colonia!
Da simmer dabei! Dat is prima! VIVA COLONIA!
Wir lieben das Leben, die Liebe und die Lust
Wir glauben an den lieben Gott und ham noch immer Durst.

Count us in! That's wonderful! Viva Colonia!
We love life, love, and health!
We believe in the Good Lord and always want to drink.

Pizza wunderbar!
Oh la la
willse du eine Pizza?
Oh la la
Pizza wundaba!

Oh la la
Do you want a pizza?
Oh la la
Pizza’s wonderful!

So ein schöner Tag (das Fliegerlied)
Und ich flieg, flieg, flieg wie ein Flieger,
bin so stark, stark, stark wie ein Tiger,
und so groß, groß, groß wie ne Giraffe, so hoch.
Oh oh oh.

Und ich spring, spring, spring immer wieder,
und ich schwimm, schwimm, schwimm zu dir rüber,
und ich nimm, nimm, nimm dich bei der Hand
weil ich dich mag, und ich sag:

Heut ist so ein schöner Tag! La la la la la
Heut ist so ein schöner Tag! La la la la la
Heut ist so ein schöner Tag! La la la la la
Heut ist so ein schöner Tag! La la la la la

And I fly, fly, fly like a plane
I'm so strong, strong, strong like a tiger
Und so big, big, big like a giraffe, so high
Oh oh oh.

And I'm jumping, jumping, still jumping
And I swim, swim, swim to you
And I take, take, take you by the hand
because I like you, and I say:

Today is such a beautiful day, la la la la la
Today is such a beautiful day, la la la la la
Today is such a beautiful day, la la la la la
Today is such a beautiful day, la la la la la

Listen to So ein schöner Tag (das Fliegerlied) here:

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

I am laughing as I type these remembering a packed bar full of adults of all ages (this is not a party for just youngsters) jumping around with their arms around one another singing, “I am strong, strong, strong like a tiger!” Hilarious! Hilarious and very fun. I really hope whoever wrote that song had been drinking Kölsch when he / she wrote it – how else can you justify lyrics like that?!

Monday’s festivities included the very famous Rosenmontag (Rose Monday) parade which has been held each year since 1823 and was projected to have 1.5 million participants this year, in addition to being broadcast over much of Germany. Given the fact that it began in 1823, the parade is also very traditional with the standard Carnival songs being played and sung throughout and is now an official holiday for the heavily Catholic areas of Germany. Most, if not all, businesses are shut down that Monday and schools are out as well. People push through their hangovers from the night before (at least I did) to put their costumes back on (I was a carrot for the parade – what else would you be?), including those for their children, and head out for a few hours of the parade. The parade itself is interesting too in that, at least in Cologne, everything has a political tilt to it. Each float had its own message or theme and while I could not read them, I got the translations from Christian and they were nearly all focused on local (German or Cologne-specific) politicians and making political statements. Despite the cold this year (apparently one of the coldest Carnivals in decades), costumed families, teenagers, retirees, and everyone in between seemed to be out to watch the parade. The kids ate the candy thrown from the floats while everyone else seemed to be drinking from their flasks (again, this is Germany after all!). We opted instead to have a real lunch (although Kölsch was definitely served in large quantities) consisting of a hard roll with butter and a slab of Gouda cheese, a hard roll with butter and slices of blood sausage, and another hard roll with butter, raw ground pork, and raw onions. Yikes is right. To be fair, even though I stuck my tongue out and gagged like a 5 year-old when Christian ordered, I have to admit that it was all pretty good. The raw pork was especially good after I was able to drown out the “trichinosis” chanting in my head and finally took a bite.

We went straight from the parade to another bar…at 4pm, and began the partying again. I tried to hold off as I had had plenty to drink the day before but after about 10 minutes in a completely packed, smoke-filled, German-singing bar I had to relent – this is not a place you can stay sober! We sang hours more of Pizza Wunderbar! and Viva Colonia! during which I heard many different lines playing off of the very convenient Carnival theme of “Kissed in Cologne.” Some were good, some were bad, but I was just happy to meet some men who, unlike most Finns, would at least talk to me! Another thing I have realized over the past few weeks, and was more extreme in Germany than in Finland, is how completely intolerant I am of smokers at this point. I read something that said that a third of the German population smokes which makes absolutely no sense to me. At the risk of sounding trite, does Germany not have a surgeon general? Should we let them borrow ours?! After several glasses of sparkling wine I was about ready to give some guy smoking next to me and blowing smoke in my face a doozy of a lecture. (I am very happy I had the sense to keep my mouth shut for once!)

Tuesday’s big party is the final one before Carnival ends on Wednesday (or midnight on Tuesday to be exact). The major event this day is the burning of the “nubbel.” The “nubbel” is a “dummy,” like a scarecrow, which each bar provides as the scapegoat who must atone for all the sins of the crowd during Carnival before all is forgotten again on Ash Wednesday and Lent begins. We went out onto the street at midnight to watch the nubbels get hauled out from the bars and passed up to the stage where there was a big fire pit. The nubbels were condemned for all the sins of the crowd…and then basically everything else they could squeeze in there including the bad weather for Carnival this year, the local political issues, global warming, you name it and these nubbels were taking the heat for it (literally, as you can see in the pictures). After each “charge” is made against the nubbel, the crowd yells something to the effect of “down with the nubbel!” in German and all the nubbels are ultimately then burned together while the crowd cheers on. Of course, after the nubbels have been sufficiently punished for their (and your) many sins, you have to go back to the bar to wash it all down with more Kölsch. Naturally.

I have to tell you that as much fun as I had for three days, I was really ready for some detox afterwards! Those Germans truly live up to their drinking reputation in my book – wow! I do not think I will try to compete with them with respect to drinking beer (or against the Finns with vodka) but I am happy to join the party – Viva Colonia!

Baby, it's cold outside

After 6 weeks of being constantly accosted by incredible amounts of ice (sheets on every walking surface, outdoor rinks around every corner, chunks seemingly falling from the sky as ice is pushed off the roofs of large buildings to avoid it crashing through ceilings, broken and parted by the ferries on every sea route out of Helsinki, etc, etc), I finally got the chance to drag out my old hockey skates and take them for a spin. The Baltic Sea (or Bay of Finland here) has been frozen solid for weeks and provides a unique and pretty amazing opportunity for outdoor skating, especially if you have a love for endurance sports like I do. I have wanted to go skating on the sea since I first arrived but the bitter cold and the constant snow for weeks on end has made it nearly impossible. This winter has been one of the coldest and snowiest winters that Helsinki has had in decades (there was apparently no snow in the previous two years) and despite being well prepared for the cold, the city does not have enough snow removal equipment for the mass quantities which have fallen this year. I was told that the snow normally gets removed from the city streets and dumped into the ocean but that the dumping area is full and the sea ice is so thick and frozen solid that the snow cannot be pushed into the water. Subsequently, big yellow bulldozers have been on the streets over the past couple weeks just pushing snow to the sides of the road, without regard for those vehicles which may already be parked there. As you can see in some of the pictures, these vehicle owners might be taking the bus for a few months.

Because of the nearly daily snowfall and the difficulty of removing the snow from the city streets, skating on the sea has really been out of the question as this ice is a clear secondary priority to making all the major roads drivable again. There was finally a break in the snowfall for a few days which meant that the skating area in one of the local bays was likely clear too so I set out with my many layers (two pairs of wool ski socks, long underwear, two sets of pants, three shirts, two pairs of gloves, a hat, coat, snow pants, etc…I am getting smarter about this cold thing by the week!) and my previously retired hockey skates. A colleague had sent me the link to a (Finnish) website with the details of the largest sea skating “park” near Helsinki and with the help of Google translator I was able to figure out roughly where to go. I was a bit concerned by the fact that there was no address, and that the map on the website had a pin stuck in the middle of the bay instead of anywhere reachable by car or foot, but I figured that everyone must know where to go and that I could wing it with what was a sure to be a fluent English-speaking cab driver as they almost all are.

Unfortunately, I was wrong on both counts. Nearly everyone in Helsinki speaks excellent English but a small minority speaks close to none. As luck would have it, my cab driver was one of the “none” clan. I knew the name of the of neighborhood and had my skates with me which I used as props in an English-subtitled version of charades with the message, “I want to go skating on the sea in Munkkiniemi.” but this guy had no clue where to go. I pulled out my phone and tried to show the driver that I wanted to go to the coastal road in Munkkiniemi and he just rolled his eyes at me as if to say, “I know Munkkiniemi, lady, but I still have no clue where exactly you want me to take you.” I stayed in the taxi, pointed in the right general direction, and just said “Munkkiniemi” again and so we took off. I had looked up the location before I left and it was only about 6 km from my apartment but not walkable because of the all the snow and ice. Well, 6 km took two conversations with other cab drivers on the road, three phone-a-friends by my driver, and lots of backtracking and re-tracking but 35 minutes and the equivalent of $30 later, I finally arrived. (I got to roll my eyes back at the cab driver when after 20 minutes he pulled up to one of the hundreds of outdoor ice rinks that the local kids use for hockey games. My eye roll said, “I know this is ice, buddy, but do you really think I’d pay you $20 to drive me to a kids hockey rink when there is literally one on every block in this city?!”)

I am still not quite sure how the driver and, apparently, at least four others in Helsinki did not know where to go – there is a 6.5 km cleared path of ice on the bay, plus side paths and larger open areas, on which to skate. I arrived to see probably 20 kids, parents, and couples all gearing up on long benches ready to take advantage of the natural ice arena, plus many more already out on the bay. I put on my skates (with difficulty – I had forgotten what a pain it is to put on and lace up hockey skates!), left my boots on the bench (Helsinki is amazingly safe – you can leave nearly anything out in public without worrying about it being taken), and started tromping through the snow on my way to the ice. It turns out this was the hardest part of the whole escapade. Walking through snow hiding bumpy landscape and ice on a slight decline on skate blades is quite difficult, especially since I had not been in skates for at least a few years, and I was embarrassed as I made a fool of myself slipping and lurching forward. True to form, however, the Finns around me did not stare or laugh. These people mind their own business to a fault which can make it hard to make friends but much easier to get away with looking like a fool!

It only took a few minutes before I got my ice legs back and I had a great time skating, probably getting in nearly 10 miles all in. There were all kinds of skaters out – I saw hockey players, figure skaters, speed skaters, skaters with what looked to be a cross between figure skates and hockey skates (figure skate blades but no toe-pick and hard uppers like hockey skates) and using cross-country ski poles. I even saw babies in strollers being skated around the bay by their dads in hockey skates (the strollers had wheels, not blades, FYI). The ice was pretty amazing too. It is obviously very thick and was, surprisingly, quite smooth and even which is not what I was expecting from ice which has never seen a Zamboni. The only real hazard were the many large cracks in the ice which can catch your skate if you hit them the wrong way but they were fairly easy to avoid and made the skating more obstacle course-ish which was actually fun. I only fell once when my skate blade dropped into a crack and held me there but if you don’t fall at least once then you’re not pushing it, right? I got a pretty crazy bruise to show for it and considered it a small price to pay for a fun afternoon skating on the sea. You cannot skate on the sea just anywhere….thank goodness, perhaps! The more annoying price to pay for the afternoon was the $50 roundtrip taxi fare which is a bit steep for ice time. I will be looking for cheaper transportation alternatives!

I also had to opportunity to go out last week with a new friend, Pepe, who I was introduced to by mutual friend in the US. Pepe had emailed me earlier in the week saying, “I’m having beers with the guys this Friday. Wanna be one of the guys?” to which I, of course, replied, “Of course!” I arrived at the bar and was introduced to Pepe’s four friends…Jukka, Jaakke, Jaakko, and Juko (pronounced Yu-kah, Yah-kay, Yah-koh, and Yu-koh, respectively – yikes!). No, this is neither an exaggeration nor is it a joke (or "yoh-kay" as now suddenly seems appropriate). Wow. I figured that, lucky for me, the music was probably loud enough to allow me to get away with any one of those names for any one of those guys.

After a few hours with Pepe and the J’s, a few of us went to another bar where I met another Jukka (again, not a yoh-kay) who said, “Hei!” to which I replied, “Hi!” He said, “Where are you from?” I said, “US.” He said, “Oooohhhhh! You are American! You are very good looking!” Good, if a bit awkward, start. (I take every compliment I can get!) He followed with, “My dad has his own business. He has 15 million Euro.” Ouch. And all this time I thought that line was a San Francisco original! I said something like, “It sounds like he’s been very successful - good for him!” before escaping. Finns can be perceived to be a bit socially awkward by American standards just because they are generally much quieter and less extroverted. A little awkward is one thing but a little awkward and a lot clueless is quite another. No, thanks!

I traded in Jukka, Jaakke, and Juko last week for Oliver, Gunnar, and Klaus when I was able to spend several days in Germany experiencing Cologne Carnival and attending a conference in Frankfurt. Carnival was amazing and a truly German cultural experience (for which I was dressed as a carrot, but more on that later…). The Finns do not like to be mixed up with the Germans (actually, most Europeans do not appreciate getting confused for someone from another European country – everyone has a lot of national pride!) so, out of respect, I will save my stories from Germany for another blog another day. Until then, EN KÖLLE JEBÜTZ!

VeggieTales

Thanks for all the check-in and “where are you and your blog update?” emails. No, I have not fallen off the face of the planet. Thankfully, the world turned out to be round or I probably would have at this point! I had a couple very rough weeks (and weekends!) with work and then got sick on top of it but have recovered from both by now. I am still living in the frozen tundra also known as Suomi (Finland) and am amusing myself by counting how many near miss falls I have on the ice on the way to and from work. Today is the record so far at 11 – yikes!

I have now gotten to the point where I am missing things, random things. I am missing good power yoga classes, country radio (although I did hear two Tim McGraw songs while in Stockmann’s the other day – I felt like the city had finally adopted me!), walking to the Golden Gate with friends, walking anywhere without freezing and slipping for that matter, and spinach. Yes, funnily enough one of the things I miss most about the states is spinach! (Yes, I know, I’m SUPER fun.) Finnish food leaves something to be desired, at least the Finnish food you can afford. I have had an amazing lunch of deer, perfect garlic mashed potatoes, and beets (another favorite) with goat cheese. Unfortunately, that cost around 60€ (roughly $90) so is not something I have done often, or even again. However, the big meal of the day in Finland is lunch and everyone, and I really mean everyone, goes out to lunch every day so I have had the opportunity to try many different Helsinki restaurants for lunch. I have found the food to be mediocre at best and usually around $15 which is thought to be a steal. (I can see my dad, the self-proclaimed cheapest man alive, cringing as he reads this.) It is often pasta with some strange sauce the color and contents of which I have yet to figure out (is it yellow? orange? cheese? tomato? nobody knows…), a “burger” which means a slab of any type of meat on bread (chicken, lamb, pork, beef) with potatoes (fries, wedges, mashed, whipped, roasted), or a salad consisting of iceberg lettuce (I know, I didn’t know anyone still ate this either!), a couple tomato slices, and your choice of four random toppings (pick from the following - anemic chicken, salmon, meatballs, asparagus, olives, artichokes, seeds – no idea what kind, mozzarella balls, feta, fried onions) drowned in chili-cilantro, ranch, or what looks like thousand island dressing. Eck.

The one thing there is here is an over abundance of is fish, primarily salmon, halibut, and herring. (Make sure you check out the pictures of the farmer’s market, Hakaniemi.) Now I really like fish and especially salmon and halibut, but there is really only so much you can take. There is some kind of salmon spread (butter? cream cheese? don’t really know…) in the fridge at work that everyone eats, there is salmon in the pasta dishes and the sandwiches, there are jars of pickled fish slices all over the grocery store, there are more jars of little herring and anchovies eyeballing me as I avoid the pickled ones, there are four cases of fish in the meat department but no chicken to be found in the whole place, and I bought pork the other day and it tasted like really fishy fish when I cooked it. I actually had to throw it away because I was so grossed out by the fish-pork combo! I started getting desperate for something other than fish when I ran into the Mexican aisle at the grocery store the other day…I have never been so happy to see Old El Paso in my life! I made beef tacos for dinner and was in heaven. They were just about perfect except for the fact that I could not find the regular cheddar cheese so after 20 minutes of looking I finally gave up and went with applewood smoked cheddar. It was not exactly “classic” Mexican but it got the job done. More importantly, nothing on my plate tasted or looked like fish of any kind.

Thankfully, the produce here is quite good actually so I have been eating some great mangoes (which I love), clementines, pears, grape tomatoes, and lots of broccoli. Given the abovementioned lunches though I have been constantly craving vegetables, spinach and brussels sprouts specifically. One of the guys at work told me that he missed having spinach too…on his sandwiches from Subway (he had done a case in the US where he had it)! He said that spinach does not grow in Finland so the people have not developed a taste for it but that I might find some dried spinach for sprinkling in soup if I went to one of the big supermarkets. I was so sad! He also told me that corn does not grow here and it is so expensive to import that nobody eats it. (It was $7 for two small ears at the grocery store today – ouch!) It was a good food day today though because I went to the grocery store and there was a new arrival – brussels sprouts! I doubt anyone has been as giddy about brussels sprouts as I was tonight. They were pretty pitiful, small and turning brown, but I bought two big containers and just had a roasted brussels sprouts feast. Deprivation does weird things to people…

The other big difference here is that the produce goes bad so quickly compared to in the US. Fruit starts going bad in about four days here whereas in the US I could buy a pear and it would probably be good 3 weeks later. Now my bananas are brown mush by day four, my clementines need to be eaten by day five latest, my meat needs to be cooked within three days or it starts tasting like fish, my mangoes might have four days before they go brown; it’s a job in itself just making sure I eat everything on time. (The fact that I pay an arm and a leg and then have to carry the food home from the grocery store in the icy cold has made me very focused on buying only what I need and then ensuring that I eat it!) My move here and observations about the produce coincide quite unfortunately with my reading of The Omnivore’s Dilemma. I am now very freaked out about what kinds of pheromones they are piping into the produce trucks in the US which hold off the natural ripening process! I am ashamed to say that I am not sure that I even know what is “normal” at this point but if Finland represents the unadulterated ripening process then we should be very afraid in the US! The difference is really striking. (Funny side point about The Omnivore’s Dilemma and my reading it right now - I am at the point in the book which addresses the morality, or immorality, of eating meat and it is falling completely flat with me given my aversion towards fish this week. Bring on the steaks! Grass-fed only, thank you. ;)

I took a little break from the arctic last weekend and spent four days in London which was wonderful! I met up with my friend Ken for the weekend and then interviewed at London Business School for BCG. Being in London made me realize how different Helsinki really is…I had more people acknowledge me in my four days there than I have had in 5 weeks in Helsinki! The Finnish culture of being quiet, private, and reserved had not bothered me at all until I was back in a culture more like that of the US. London is an amazing city and I had great food (and LOTS of spinach – thank you, Ken!), discovered a newfound appreciation for being able to run outside, and enjoyed being in a place with so much diversity and action. Ken shared his local friends with me and I met Ali living in Dubai (via Denmark?), Paulo from Monaco (but Italian), Marina from St. Petersburg, Skye from Australia, David from St. Louis, Gavin and his wife Claire from the London suburbs, Esperanza the Colombian / Israeli, and Brian from Lake Tahoe. Then add Ming Teck from Singapore, a new friend at BCG, Bhav from Tanzania, Pasi from Finland (Ali called in his one Finnish friend to say hello to the new Helsinki transplant), and Mario from Italy (plus Andrea from Idaho) and you have quite a weekend collection! I made some new friends, some of whom I hope see in Helsinki this year, and got some good travel advice on the side. I was talking about visiting St. Petersburg soon and was told that when (not if) I get stopped by the Russian police for some imaginary infraction I should reply with, “Yes, officer, I realize I have committed some crime. Can you please tell me what the penalty is?” at which point I should then be ready to hand over 20€ before hightailing it out of there. Good to know.

Finland is a really homogenous country, I think the statistic I read somewhere was that the country was 96% Finnish, and it really jumped out at me after this weekend. I had already gotten so used to the Anniinas, Anttis, Tatus, Saaras, Annukkas, Ilkkas, Pekkas, Tuukkas, Jussis, Jattas, and Satus that I had not though about the Alis, Marios, Marinas, Bhavs, Ming Tecks, or even Davids of the world – it was refreshing! (Incidentally, I am thinking of changing my name to Andrekka or, better yet, Andreekka, to better fit in. Can you believe all these double letters and double K’s? I do love Finnish names!) It was a great break from the winter wonderland but, I have to admit, I was also happy to come home to Helsinki. I have already found a bit of comfort here which is nice, especially for the homebody that I am. I must fit in pretty well too because the flight attendants both to and from London last weekend spoke English to the guy next to me and Finnish to me. I suppose Anndrekka it is.

I am off to Cologne, Germany next week for the Cologne carnival, and then to Frankfurt later on in the week for a practice area conference with BCG. I unfortunately forgot to take my camera to London but have more pictures up on the blog, of the Hakaniemi market and of my flat (by popular demand - all my whining must have made people curious!). Stay tuned next week for what I hope are some good carnival stories heavily influenced by German beer!