Reflections

 Reflections

What did we learn in from our time in Finland?  So many things.  Too many to count.  But ultimately I think that most can be grouped around six central concepts.

Take your young kids abroad.  I know that’s a ridiculously privileged thing to say, and I hope in the near future that policy changes and Americans weaning themselves off of their own addiction to money will make international travel accessible for more families.  But I’ll be honest.  I was apprehensive.  Two straight months of parenting my kids?  No school or childcare? No breaks?  Foreign cities and difficult systems to navigate?  Them both too young to appreciate what they were really seeing?  I had no idea how they would do.

They did marvelously.  Like not even just okay.  They were stupendous.  And the four of us are all so much closer for our shared triumphs and setbacks, and foibles.  And we have this secret shared experience that only we truly understand.  And we got to watch our kids grow up so much.  They became more patient, more knowledgeable, and more observant.  Oscar memorized the tram stops in order, and after losing the backpack, Milo was the first to count each of our bags to make sure that we had everything going forward.  Once when we were in Helsinki walking quickly to catch our train I saw a fellow traveler out of the corner of my eye.  Small, but walking quickly and with purpose and confidence.  They clearly knew where they were going and what they were doing.  I had to do a double take when I realized it was Milo.  And I think – despite them being young – they do appreciate it.  Maybe the reason that it feels like our young kids don’t appreciate those experiences is because we never give them a chance to.

Sure there are headaches.  It was exhausting.  It was very difficult keeping track of everyone’s stuff.  We brought SO MANY things that we wouldn’t have if we didn’t have kids.  As someone who was once philosophically opposed to shushing my kids, I probably shushed them over a thousand times on this trip alone.  They will need therapy from all of the shushing; therapy I can’t afford because I spent all of our money on this trip.  But was it worth it?  Yes.  And it wouldn’t have been as worth it if I didn’t have my kids with me.

Democratic Socialism Works. Every country we visited – France, Poland, and especially Finland do a much better job taking care of their citizens than we do.  I know in America socialism has been this boogeyman that the right has weaponized to resist any social progress.  But it’s just not true.  I know.  I’ve seen it.  I’ve seen what it looks like when government takes care of their citizens.  It works.  Really really well. 

And all of the things that people say will happen in a more socialist society – I didn’t see any of that.  There weren’t impossibly long wait times to see a doctor, there wasn’t garbage overflowing onto streets, there wasn’t mass corruption or destitution. 

If anything, people seemed to enjoy a higher standing of living there than they do here.  People were driving Lexus’ and nice Volvos and BMWs.  The luxury brand there is Marimekko (dresses are two or three hundred Euro each) and most people we saw wore it pretty regularly; One of Amy’s colleagues wore a different Marimekko dress everyday.  Kids wore Air Jordans.  Wait times to see doctors are shorter there than they are here.  One of our friends who was on a very limited income had fifteen pairs of nice jogging shoes.  People own their own homes and apartments – a higher percentage than in America, in fact.  The libraries are full of Playstation 5 games, which indicates that lots of people have a Playstation 5.  Not only are citizens in a socialist democracy surviving, they seem to be thriving.

There are obvious caveats.  As a part of the EU there are grants and other monies available to Finland.  And there are tradeoffs.  I think that very few if any Finns own more than one home (well actually, most of them have a summer cabin in their family).  And even fewer get so rich that they no longer have to work.  But that seems a reasonable trade – nobody can get absurdly rich and in exchange everyone can live comfortably.  I can’t think of any moral or ethical argument against that idea.

Anyway, democratic socialism works.  It could work in America.  It’s entirely possible, indeed likely, that it wouldn’t work in America.  But it’s not because of any problems with socialism.  If it didn’t work here, it would be because people don’t want it to work here.  They would rather be as rich as they possibly can, and to hell with anybody else.  And I think that says a lot about us.

It's not that cold.  Pretty much everyone shivered when we said we were going to Finland.  “Really?” they would say.  “But isn’t it really cold?”  We were there in the summer and it was warmer than Washington State.  I wore shorts for the first six weeks of our trip.  We left in early October and it was starting to get cold.  And the winter gets really cold and has limited sunlight.  For a few months.  And then it gets lovely again.  If you are worried about the cold there are lots of months when you can go and enjoy the majesty of Finland without it being cold at all.  If you go in December then yes, Finland will be cold.  But it has several things to remedy that.  Like coats.  And fireplaces.  And heaters.  And saunas. And the indoors.  So it’s very manageable.

Cardamom.  Use it.  Enough said.  Delightful.

We are failing our kids.  Finnish kids have so much responsibility at such an early age.  Everyone goes to preschool.  They go to school by themselves using public transit.  Their education is rigorous.  They travel to sports by themselves.  Watching it was clear that Finnish sports are more intense than our own and that their kids are more skilled than ours.  They have to learn multiple languages, and face pressure to select into their careers much earlier than our kids do.  But even though they have the best schools, their schooldays are shorter, and schools more friendly.  Kids get to be outside and get plenty of opportunities to play.

And they seem so much happier than our kids.  They play.  They laugh.  They stay kids for so much longer.  We saw sixteen and seventeen year olds playing on jungle gyms and giggling.  Kids who in America would be pretending to be grown ups and smoking in the corner were chasing each other and laughing.  Finland has spaces set up for kids to be kids.  Finnish kids don’t have to worry about whether or not they will get breakfast the next morning, or what will happen to them if they don’t get a good enough job, or whether they will be able to afford to buy a house when they grow up.  Or getting shot in school.  My son Milo has started talking about anxiety lately.  And how close his desk is to the door during intruder drills.  Finnish kids seem to laugh a lot more.   

I think that American kids should get to laugh too.  I think we should live in a country where every kid gets to play and laugh, and know they will be fed, and be able to afford a home, and be able to afford to live, regardless of their parent's job, and know they can go to school without being shot.  Call me radical, but I believe that our kids deserve that from their country.

And right now they aren’t getting it.  Not here.

Rauha.  Another Finnish word.  It means “peace.”  The Finns talk a lot about finding it.  In nature.  In the Sauna.  In weird salty licorice candy.  Rauha was definitely something that we went to Finland in search of.  And we found it, though in different places than perhaps we expected. 

I think for me Rauha was something less that we discovered and more something that soaked into our time.  It permeated us.  It was a peace that was more persistent than it was novel.  And we found it in all of the places that Finns find it.  I felt it walking in the Pynninki.  I felt it in the sauna when I was lost in my thoughts and in the loyly.  I found it on trains and trams and boats.  I also found it in the more unexpected moments.  Washing dishes.  At the grocery store.  Doing the recycling. 

And sure, it’s absolutely true that our time here was somewhat artificial.  Amy is on sabbatical, I was able to teach online, and the majority of our trip was before the school year started.  But Amy had her conference and lots of meetings with colleagues, and I was fairly active in corresponding with colleagues and preparing for the school year, and then teaching full-time for some part of our trip.  And the flexibility and license to enjoy our lives was not unique to us.  We saw if everywhere.  Among friends and co-workers, and even strangers on the street.  Everyone seemed to be finding rauha.

As best I can identify it, I think that rauha came in the moments I was able to be fully present.  And I think Finland does a great job of creating those moments.  By limiting workdays.  By encouraging work from home.  By taking holidays.  By prioritizing time for families and hobbies.  Time doesn’t feel like the limited commodity it feels like here.  Daily chores aren’t so soul crushing because you aren’t doing them at the very end of your day.  A walk in the woods isn’t something that you need to skip work to do.  Everywhere you go feels safe, and things are affordable.  So you don’t feel like you are being financially irresponsible when you stop in for an unexpected coffee break.  And because time and money aren’t so limited, it gives you more freedom to enjoy.  And to notice.

Because you aren’t worried about how much work you will have when you get back to the office, you notice the new flower buds and the birds nesting in trees on your walk.  You get used to the unique crackle of the kiuas in your sauna.  When folding laundry because you aren’t distracted by the television or your phone you appreciate the fabric, and have time to enjoy the process.  You appreciate new things about all of the parts of life you used to dread.  The tasks of living cease to be tedious, and instead feel meaningful, and miraculous.

That to me was my rauha.

Next, we wrap up our thoughts on Finland, in our final post. 

Hei Hei