Memoirs

22-6-08 Weather: Rain

Midsummer went by. We missed the kokko (bonfire), we came too late, but we had great fun.

We played kroketti (croquet) on a "very heavy metal track" designed by Jaakko, and later on, an epic game of Carcassonne. We ate more meat than socially acceptable. 

We failed our bets on how many people would drown (see previous post) since the bad weather discouraged people from boating and so only one man actually drowned

There was no complete darkness during the night. Only a dark dark light and a blue sky. The moon was so big I thought it was a big balloon.

This morning we left for Lappeenranta, where we'll sleep at Henna's godmother's.

We watched "number 23" with Ville; it's rather creepy.

26-6-08 Weather: crazy

Lappeenranta is much nicer than the other finnish cities, which are usually functional but ugly as hell.

Lappeenranta has three nice churces, especially the orthodox one: tiny but filled with gold and treasures.

This country is completely queer. Bunnies frolic freely even in the capital and squirrels are all around. People collect used cans and bottles from the street and recycle them, so they get some cash. The sun shines at night during the summer, while in the winter it's rarely seen.

Lakes are everywhere; I would like to have a boat.

28-6-08 weather: "hot", 22+

Qua in Finlandia sono tornato in quel mondo fatto di incomprensione, comunicazione interrotta, parole spezzate e larghi sorrisi come unico medium interculturale. E' un mondo diverso e difficile.

In Irlanda potevo avere lunghe discussioni con chiunque. Il problema erano ogni tanto le parole troppo difficili; qua il gergo di ogni giorno è una sfida. Le persone vivono nel falso credo che la lingua sia il più semplice tramite di comunicazione, ed essa sia solo un modo per trasmettere fatti, informazioni. Invece, l'atto comunicativo stesso è un fatto, talvolta potente, talvolta creatore di fatti.

There are three keys to enter a society; language is one of them.

2-7-08 weather: warm

Se per sopravvivere è necessario muoversi, allora io vivrò a lungo.

Dopo una settimana a Lappeenranta ho passato una notte a Lahti. La giornata dopo -ieri- a sbronzarsi a casa dei genitori di Mikko. Lì ho passato la notte ed ora sono ad Helsinki. Lo zaino è sempre più vuoto, si svuota di tutto il superfluo, mentre la mente si riempie di novità. Se volevo girare il mondo, ci sto riuscendo. Non passo due giorni nello stesso luogo. Nulla è facile come lo era in Irlanda. Ma quella nazione è passata, la storia scritta. Passerà ancora molto tempo prima che io vi ritorni ancora.

L'estate finlandese regala emozioni forti, a differenza dell'inverno spento. 

100th post! - Kate Havnevik

The title was meant to be just "kate havnevik" but then I saw it was the 100th.

Kate Havnevik is a norwegian female singer. She had been in a lot of different styles and genres, but up to now I only had the chance to listen to two tracks from her (back then) recent album, "unlike me" and "timeless". I didn't want to talk about the music in itself but about what that music means to me.

I discovered her just for instance during random surfing (despite the shroddy internet connection) when I was in Ulm, and downloaded for free these two songs...

I was astonished how dreamy and enchanted these atmosphere were. Ulm, my first city, the snow, my small room, at the top of a typical german house (i'm not sure about a precise definition for the kind of building in this case), in sight of the münster and a nice view over the inner city roofs, the cold breeze, the nights and the walks along the city, the food, the smells, the small discoveries, the straßenbahn stop in the early morning and the nice tune of my morning alarm, the unknown language which made everything harder but more miserious, and Havnevik with her wonderful music. I felt happy for every step I made in the cold. I felt in a wonderland which in Huggin and Muninn's phantasies is called Norway or Scandinavia, even though I think it's probably nowhere but our spirits.

Everything was perfect and I had a life on my own, deciding for every step, the room was my nest, even tho somebody else could have seen it as a dark lair. Everything was delicate cause it was deeply me. My room and that music, my room and the snow, myself and the streets. I was sorrounded by and of myself. After some time, which was incredibly short - just a month or so, but felt like a life - I started to lack something: a guitar in my hands, a hug every now and then, a person to take care for. Yes, that's loneliness, but a very feeble one. I didn't look for my italian friends for a few weekends just for coincidence, which eventually I did. And then I met her. And everything changed.

The world which was still and silent like in a snow bowl started spinning fast and fast and my frozen heart respawned and the music changed: it was time for chikinki.

But now I'm going too further.

Everything was too short, the time for myself and the time for chikinki. 

Only 5 fucking months. Never doing it again, too short time.