We can’t call people without wings angels, so we call them friends

As detailed in my prior post, “Matka aloittaa kotona”, Finland provided me the foundation of my adult life and the closest group of friendships that I have developed in my lifetime.

While I quickly obtained a level of Finnish language knowledge superior to many foreigners comfortably residing there for years, English is near universally spoken in the capital and was also the language in which my studies were lectured. Consequently, I never obtained the spoken fluency often necessary to deeply penetrate the Finnish friendship culture. To this day, I regard not becoming fluent in Finnish as one of my greatest failures in life, and I continue to harbor the fantasy of one day returning to own a farm in the countryside and perhaps finally gain that capacity.

Yet even 18 years later, an obscene amount of Finnish vocabulary lies dormant in the recesses of my mind, which upon visits to the country comes roaring back to the point that I amusingly find myself understanding nearly the entirety of advertising, newspapers articles, and passing conversations. It can be frustrating to feel so complacently comfortable in understanding your surroundings but not be able to fully express yourself in the same language. 

As is often the case, over time I naturally gravitated towards forming friendships with those in a similar situation as myself – other international students. This was facilitated by residing in a student apartment block endearingly known as “Ida”, for its location on Ida Aalberg street. The block was favored for longer term residence by international students as it was the cheapest accommodation available within the student housing network (my rent hovered around 120 EUR a month in the mid-2000s).

It was effectively a global village. Over the course of my university years I co-inhabited with a Russian, Canadian, Hungarian, German, and a Pole, and made further close friendships with students from Ukraine, Estonia, China, Latvia, Iran, and Nepal, among countless others. Sometimes I would just as easily have a conversation with someone from Pakistan as from Ghana while washing my laundry in the common facilities, or going to sauna night on Wednesdays.

Our friend group eventually took over the apartments on the top floor of this building, and we began organizing large parties attended by 100+ students from dozens of countries across nearly every continent. I was typically the emissary of the group sent to Estonia on the day-ferry to procure cheap booze and beers to appropriately provision the festivities (having recently joined the EU in 2004 there were no limits to the personal importation of alcohol). We came to call these series of events “Ida Unity” parties.

Many considered them legendary, and it even took the Poliisi several attempts over time to muster the appropriate response to bring the parties to a close when things got too elevated. Ironically, they scaled their largest response of all to our apartment not when we were having a banger of a party, rather during a late night hang session on our balcony playing music a bit too enthusiastically. They were certainly disappointed to find only five friends hanging out drinking tea at 1am rather than a “rager” requiring the eight officers they sent to quell the good vibes.      

In any case, when I reflect back on my education, while the quality of the instruction and real world practicum were superior, it is perhaps the broad and intimate exposure to so many people my age from literally all over the globe that taught me the most about the world we live in and the capacity for meaningful connections to transcend borders; if only ideological governments, their leaders, and their propaganda could refrain from complicating matters.

Specifically, amongst my closest friend circle, it was often notable that while all of us were culturally and completely distinct individuals, we formed exceptionally strong bonds despite having all been born at a time when many of us were then  separated by political borders, competing ideologies, and Iron Curtains. Our friendships serve perhaps as a tribute to the zenith of globalization and achievements of liberal multi-lateralism in that we could bridge such cultural differences; something all the more precious at a time in the world currently where we seem to be shortsightedly deconstructing global institutions, coalition-building, and economic integration as foundations for peace and mutual understanding. 

I always think of the closing monologue from Stephen King’s Stand by Me where the narrator says, “Sometimes friends come in and out of your life like bus boys in a restaurant…I never had friends later on like the ones I had when I was 12. Jesus, does anyone?“.

I would revise that quote to reference those of our college days instead, as a primary source of my years’ long doubt about having left Finland was how much I took for granted the depth and quality of the friends I made while living there. Despite great distances, oceans apart, and years at times between reunions, we can pick back up where we last left off having tea by candlelight on a dark winter’s night playing Go in one of our student flats.

Now, as I regularly make a point to return to Finland and Europe, these friends are undoubtedly as much family as those that are my bloodline. While most still live in Finland, I will be visiting others soon as I travel through Estonia, Germany, and perhaps even Thailand . The following gallery captures the joy of our time together during the first week of my journey.

I take exceptional pleasure witnessing the lives they have developed and the next generation of our family taking root.