The Breadline

Today, I witnessed a crowd of easily 200 people in a breadline on Helsinginkatu. I can't believe it! I used to live on Helsinginkatu for a while, my brother for years and years. There were never any breadlines.

It made such an impression on me that I mentioned it in my interview with an officer from Helsinki City Council later in the afternoon. She showed equal "passion" for the phenomenon, she agreed that 10 years ago you would get less people queuing up for handouts. She really wants someone to do a bit of research into it, there's been such an exponential growth of people seemingly unable to make ends meet. The really strange thing is that whilst there were a few of the "usual suspects" hanging about (i.e. homeless alcoholics, of whom Helsinki always had its' fair share) but the majority seemed to be quite untraditional types: sort of "normal" looking people.

"Uusavuttomat" [nouveau helpless] my interviewee suggested. Some time ago people would do almost anything to avoid the humiliation, whereas it wasn't such a big deal for this new generation of people to join the breadline. They'd rather prioritise something else, above getting food on the table, as they knew that the food thing could be resolved if they bothered to queue up for it.

Harsh words perhaps? Undoubtedly these were people living in (relative) poverty. I noticed myself that the price of food has hiked up in Finland, probably outperforming any pay rises (or increases in state benefits for that matter).

Still, I'm gobsmacked.

The Catch Up

Helsinki bus station has been swallowed by Earth. I stand where it used to be, my bus is leaving in 10 minutes but, oh alas!, I cannot find the station. The web service informed me that the departure was at 14.45 from Kamppi bus station (behind Lasipalatsi – precisely where buses used to leave from 8 years ago, or so I thought). I have to ring my sister-in-law to enquire where the bus station has gone to. “Underground” she laughs. “You know the big Kamppi shopping centre, you’ll spot a set of stairs going down, it’s there”. “No” I sulked in response, “I don’t know the Kamppi shopping centre, I’ve never been there and there are no signs anywhere for the station either”. Turns out the Kamppi shopping centre is a spitting distance from the old yellow building that used to be the bus station, and underneath this monstrous retail complex hidden inside its’ guts, is the shiny new bus station. I get there just in time for my bus, but I can’t find the ticket office anywhere, so I miss the connection. Tuusula thankfully has regular connections from Helsinki, so I catch the 15.03 instead. I discover I could have bought the ticket from the driver, I didn’t need to find the ticket office at all. I am peeved. I have this false sense of confidence that I know how things work and definitely where things are in Helsinki, but as it happens, my tacit knowledge is utterly out of date.

I attended a family gathering at the weekend, my aunt and my old art teacher of 6 years, Eeva, celebrated her 70^th birthday. I remember her 60^th, as well as her 50^th birthday celebrations, which makes me feel my own age. My aunt’s big birthdays coincide with my grandmother’s, she is 80 in a week’s time. Embarrassingly I no longer recognised some of my more distant relatives, and I found myself telling the same story time and again about where I am and what I do these days. I used to be at the heart of things in my extended family, if anyone would be asked to bake a cake or help out with practical arrangements, it would be me. It felt bizarre just to walk in like any guest to a party that had been planned and arranged without any input from me. In many ways it was a trip down memory lane, made all the more intensive by my aunt’s lovely display of her works in the garden and patio area turned into an exhibition space. Amongst the oeuvres were three images of me, aged 6:

I have vivid recollections of sitting for her, Eeva
indeed verified that I used to be her favourite still
life model because I had the patience just to sit there for ages (unlike most children, even grown-ups). For me it was a pleasant experience, I remember the rhythmic sound of charcoal on rough sketching paper, it was as though I could feel the eyes of the artist drawing on my skin.

To continue the narrative of happy reunions, Restaurant Comrade proved to be the smartest venue imaginable in the heart of Kallio, a perfect location for a hard core catch-up with my old bestest comrade Susanna (pictured with me outside the “Comrade”). We used to be inseparable at school, but we haven’t met in over two years! The Comrade has a very chic ambiance complete with vintage leather furniture, perfectly fit for the intellectuals and leftie-liberals who favour this part of town. The pair of us perhaps the least smooth element there that evening, although it was quiet for a Thursday, we made sure after 3 bottles of wine that it was quiet no longer. Susanna doesn’t remember cycling home and I woke up Friday morning with the lights on. The last time we had a decent catch-up, I ended up nearly missing my flight to Manchester the next morning and at the airport, just as I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I found myself inside a cubical in the men’s toilet as my flight was announced for boarding.

All that ends well...

A soft spot for reinforced concrete

I am pleased to report that Teräsbetoni [literally, "(steel) reinforced concrete"], a metal quartet of topless Viking-wannabe boys from Finland made it to the Eurovision Song Contest final to be held in Belgrade this Saturday. Their song, "Missa miehet ratsastaa" ["where men ride"] is, dare I say, a typical sort of heavy metal number. If you're into that sort of thing you'll probably think it's ok, not ecstatic or anything special though. In comparison with the infamous Lordi from two years ago, Teräsbetoni are nicer to look at (unless you're a fan of fantasy horror outfits, that is). I have a soft spot for hard rock, but whether Europe is ready for another heavy metal act is a different matter.

On a different note, I've made good progress is terms of neighbourhood case selection for my Helsinki benchmarking study (an added bonus since research is my main reason for being here). I have a shortlist of two areas: Kontula (where I used to live in 1999) and Pihlajamäki - both have had direct regeneration-type activity, Kontula mainly in 2001-2004 and Pihlajamaki more recently. Interestingly, Pihlajamäki has been made a conservation area due to its' unrivalled status as a symbol of 1960's architecture and modern urban planning in Finland. Pihlajamäki is the first 1960's estate to be listed in Helsinki, perhaps not the last one as the current regeneration programme focuses on 1960's architecture and heritage as a source of pride and 'curb appeal' in urban neighbourhoods. The Planning Department is simultaneously preparing guidelines for "safeguarding the values of 1970's estates in the urban fabric". Is it just me or does the Helsinki planning authority, too, appear to display a bit of a soft spot for reinforced concrete?

I say Michael Hebbert should bring his flock of urban design students to Helsinki for their fieldtrip next year! The City Council has adopted a policy in 2006 for "Esikaupunkien renessanssi" ["SUB-urban Renaissance"]. I am dying to find out how it differs from the "yellow book" aka the Urban Task Force Report of 1999, or indeed its follow-up in 2005 "Towards a Strong Urban Renaissance".

Oh, ManU just won the Champion's League against Chelsea 6-5 on penalties! It's got to be the weather in Moscow, it's atrocious: a mix of sleet and rain, the northern team thus having a "home field advantage".

This is Finland

On the subject of 3G broadband and train travel, as the distance from the capital increased, the signal got weaker and weaker until the connection was running at just over 200 kbps, not 3G at all, 2G rather. No question of posting anything online, therefore I couldn't publish Saturday's blog until the following day when my return journey brought me again within a 3G radius (about 1.5 hours in train travel time) from Helsinki.

After an entertaining evening, and my third sauna within my first week in Finland, I woke up Sunday morning to find a light covering of snow on the ground in Jyväskylä… Good job my sister-in-law had equipped me with one of her many winter coats (pictured), “fit for a tractor driver”, as she jokingly put it. This ain’t London Fashion Week, this is Finland.

Russia claimed world dominance in terms of ice hockey last night, and Finland, spurred on by their humiliating defeat (0-4) by Russia in the semi-finals, claimed bronze winning 4-0 against Sweden. I wonder what's happened in the world of English football since I left the country 8 days ago.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

The weather forecasts have warned of potential snow and sleet this weekend, even in the South of the country.

Surprisingly, it felt quite nice and warm today on my way to the railway station. To increase my chances of being caught in snow in the middle of May, I am heading North to Jyväskylä
to say hello to a friend I last said hello to in Madrid back in February. An ideal opportunity to put the Elisa 3G mobile broadband to test as well, so I booked myself a "PC seat" on the train (i.e. one with a power socket) and here I am blogging away en route.

The philosopher and futurologist Luciano Florini (2007) has written an interesting account on people becoming "inforgs" ("connected informational organisms") in the information society where the boundaries between offline and online will eventually blur to the extent that to distinguish between them will become futile: "One day, being an inforg will be so natural that any disruption in our normal flow of information will make us sick".

Evidence of such conditions already exists, I myself a perfect example of a half-inforg/half-human travelling on this train, plugged into the laptop listening to music, connected to the web and constantly fearing that the 3G connection will be lost, that would equal to my journey being ruined. Wider evidence of the disruptions of information flows making us sick could be found in the various e-health developments, taking place in the UK as well as Finland. You can book doctors' appointments online (one day soon you will be expected to), manage prescriptions and find out about various treatments and conditions on the various self-help sites. Moreover, you will be expected to find out about the performance of hospitals when you choose where you have your operation done, or give birth, in this burgeoning "choice = empowerment" mode that policy makers want us consumer-citizens to embrace. Without the skills to dig out the relevant information, you are at risk of checking into the wrong hospital where you'll surely end up with a superbug, or worse.

Back to my very hands-on, off-line experiences of Helsinki, I visited an old school friend yesterday in Malminkartano, in the very northern periphery of Helsinki, a local train ride away. We watched Finland's ass being kicked by Russia in the semi-finals of the World Ice Hockey Championship. Less than a week ago I wasn't even aware of the tournament, now I was actually following a match! When in Rome... The four teams left in the game are the usual suspects: Finland, Russia, Canada and Sweden. As Canada beat Sweden last night, the bronze game will have an almost derby-like feel to it, Finns facing their favourite opponent, Sweden. My guess is that the defending champions Canada will hang on to the title this year, the Finland-Sweden match should be a nail-biting thriller.

On my way back to the city centre well after midnight, I discovered a gang of youths at the less than salubrious railway station of Malminkartano (pictured). Strangely, I didn't feel threatened - had I been in a similar situation in Manchester I would have had concerns about being there in the first place, let alone taking my phone out and capturing an image of the group as the train arrived. Minutes earlier, approaching the station, two or three grown-up ice hockey supporters staggered out of a local pub, one of them openly urinating in the middle of the pavement leaning onto a pillar outside their local. His friends giggled as they spotted me approaching. Tempted as I was to capture this obscenity on camera, I couldn't bring myself to stop or even slow down.

However, I had a very pleasant walk home through Helsinki in the early hours of the morning. Crossing Pitkä Silta [“long bridge” over Töölönlahti, connecting Hakaniemi to Kaisaniemi] I marvelled at the Eastern horizon where a strip of pale yellow was emerging at 3 am, birds chirping to welcome the rising sun, it was peaceful.

Indecent exposures

Today I learnt interesting things about Helsinki's ICT Strategy, such as their three-pronged "vision for a metropolis" consisting of the following domains: 1) welfare/service provision, 2) competitiveness; 3) urban infrastructures/development. I guess I could write about that, but I have something far more interesting to blog about: my visit to the local swimming pool (pictured).
My nearest swimming pool is very near indeed, Kallio sports hall is located at the end of my road - in terms of a brisk walk we're talking 90 seconds or so to get there from my front door.

Since the weather doesn't really lend itself to any extended visits to the beach (it's sunny but the temperature is 5 degrees celcius below average), I thought I'd settle for a swim indoors. To some of my colleagues from university none of this will come as a surprise, we recently had a peculiar conversation about Finnish public swimming pool code of conduct. I acted the expert on the matter, comfortably sipping beer in Sandbar, no one to challenge my position. Put me in the real context, and I really felt like an alien.

The first "alien thing" was the entry system, I was given a card at the front desk after paying, which got me through the barrier and also worked in the dressing room locker to release the key instead of a coin, so far so good. Entry into the female dressing room was a shock though. Women of all ages, shapes and sizes parading around naked, immediately visible from the door (the corridor is a public space for all sexes). Oddly, in front of me entering the dressing room was a mother with a boy of I'd say 7 or 8 years of age. OK, he's only a child, but still. Children of about that age in England possess ASBOs and have been done for assaults of all kinds.

The shower room wasn't as much of a shock anymore, more naked people having a wash - after a while you don't actually feel self-conscious anymore, there's that much bare skin around that you do actually blend in quite nicely. Oh, for the benefit of those who never visited Finnish swimming pools, there are separate dressing- , showering- and sauna facilities for men and women.

After a thorough shower (this really must be done scrupulously and without your swimwear, nothing else will do!) I slipped into my swimwear and entered the pool area. Hmm. Strange lanes, some marked for "vesijuoksu" ["water running"] - but the "runners" really moved very slowly, they seemed to be walking in water, rather. It looked very, very strange, plus the water is very deep in the deep end so what was going on there, I haven't a clue.

In I dived and bloody hell the water felt freezing at first! But that was a minor inconvenience, soon forgotten about in light of the much more acute predicament I found myself in. I last wore this swimming costume in Finland last August, and whilst it always felt a little roomy, not one of those desperately tight-fitting ones, I do remember when swimming in a strong cross-current caused by the nearby waterfalls and the hydralic turbines from a power plant in Verla, the costume still more or less stayed on despite the challenging conditions. Today, however, the costume seems to have lost all its elasticity and the already generously cut neckline didn't go very far in terms of keeping my boobs in situ. The natural boyancy of the breast tissue combined with very, very ill performing swimwear gives a whole new meaning to the term "breaststroke".

Undeterred, I continued with the breaststroke having to keep pulling up my useless swimwear every 5-6 strokes, or so, hoping that the slowly moving "water walkers" in the next lane take no interest in the swimmers. I managed half an hour, after which it was time for my reward: the sauna! Entering the sauna there were two ladies there, and I felt the urge to make small talk, but I managed to suppress this instinct, although in my mind I had aldready thought of one or two things to say to "break the ice". I would have disturbed these two women's peace unforgivably had I done that - ice is good in Finland, don't touch it! Oddly, when visiting the Grand Central in Stockport, I sit there in the sauna in silence and feel really annoyed when some chatterbox comes in and gives me no peace. This in-betweenness is a funny thing to go through.

The second indecent exposure of my visit to the local pool came at the very end, a different sort of exposure though, one facilitated with my new camera and the evidence is presented below. I was compelled to do this because of the recent conversation in Sandbar alluded to earlier, and the incredulity the "no swimwear policy" was then met with, so, risking a lifetime ban from Kallio swimming pool and the confiscation of my new toy, I continued with my mission.

I had to smuggle the camera into the shower room in order to take a shot of the sign banning swimwear from the sauna. Thankfully it was close to 8 pm (closing time) so it wasn't that busy, otherwise I'd have no chance to catch this exposure without being done for indecency. There are naked people around, including children, so I felt dodgy indeed sneaking around with a camera inside my bath towel! Anyway, here it is, the evidence from Kallio swimming pool! Thankfully, I got away with it (as well as the other indecent exposure in the pool earlier).

(Note to self: must buy a new swimming costume before heading off to the beach when the weather finally warms up.)

From Helsinki, with wireless

I am finally armed with a very nice ensemble of technology to keep me happy, after some initial problems of getting connected.

Thanks to Helsinki's information age library services, yesterday I borrowed a cable modem kit for accessing broadbad at home but it turned out the capitalist, robbing letting agents have somehow disabled the cable connection in the flat, unless I give them 20 euros per WEEK that is! What a joke. Consequently I spent this morning at the local library which is wireless-enabled and free to use. Oh, incidentally all of the above counts as fieldwork, a very hands-on experience of how to get online in Helsinki.

After trialling the 3G connection supported by Viljo's (my brother and personal ICT support, pictured in my flat) Nokia last night at a scant 312 kbps it was obvious that a mobile solution needed to provide more bandwidth than that. Hence the shiny new mobile USB modem (pictured above). The Sony Vaio (thanks, MDDA!) tells me that the connection is running at just over 3 mbps right now!?! To complete my new kit, I procured a new Fujifilm wide angle pocket camera yesterday....



To finish off this first fieldwork post, a couple of words about arriving here, my new neighbourhood etc... After arriving in Helsinki on Sunday (Finnish Mothers' Day) and spending the day (unsurprisingly) celebrating the occasion with my mum, grandma, sister-in-law (the other Jenni Viitanen!) and naturally the latest arrival in our family, Aaro Viitanen (pictured below with his mum Jenni and the new grandmother, Helena).
On arrival the weather was very nice indeed, pretty much what I'd expected. I was pleased as having acclimatised to the recent unseasonally warm weather in Manchester I decided not to bring any coats with me to Helsinki. A decision I came to regret 24 hours later. It is worth bearing in mind that a quarter of the country lies north of the Arctic Circle, and whilst in theory we could right now be walking down Esplanadi in our shorts & t-shirts, we are actually facing temperatures dipping below freezing tonight. Hindsight is such an annoying perspective!

I received keys to my new pad at noon yesterday and couldn't wait to see the place that would be my home for the next 7 weeks, not the least because I was freezing having been out and about in my summery knitwear, the warmest thing I brought with me! My new neighbourhood is called Kallio [a "rock"], referring to the fact that the area literally stands on this massive piece of rock which is visible here & there in the streetscape, too.

Kallio is a very relaxed, down to earth area with a bit of a reputation for being popular with students and other bohemian types, just north-east of the city centre. If I was bothered to walk into the city I'd be there in 20 mins by foot, but the metro takes me there in just 4. Due to its working class roots, Kallio is often seen as a socialist stronghold. Amusingly my "local", which is literally on the ground floor of this block of flats on the corner of Kolmas Linja and Castreninkatu is called Ravintola "Toveri" [Restaurant "Comrade"] (pictured, N.B. the Finnish flag for added humour). After my arrival the Finnish flags could be seen everywhere first of all due to Mothers Day, and secondly, 12 May is marked as the day to commemorate J.V Snellman - an important dude in the Finnish national history - and officially named "suomalaisuuden paiva" [the "Day of Finnishness"]. I thought they were celebrating my arrival!

I shall need a couple of stiff drinks inside me before I dare enter Restaurant Comrade, it has a tad too local feel about it, the same can be said of the numerous Thai massage parlours around Kallio... I counted 5 today on my way to the library, two of them pictured below.

Adding to that, my nearest supermarket is called "Eestin herkut" - "the delicacies of Estonia"; I am thrilled about my temporary neighbourhood, I never knew Helsinki had turned so cosmopolitan since I left 8 years ago, and yet it is so, well, re-assuringly Finnish!