Non-Stammtisch Thursday fun

Well yes, it exists, reluctant as I was to admit it. I had a very enjoyable time at the 3 Ushi (literally: 3 Ears) club last night, an Old/New Jazz night with a touch of Bjork and some friends I have less and less opportunity to see. It was a good feeling. I think I've learnt how to have a pleasant time out at long last. Thanks for one more thing, Erasmus, Finland, and all of you, Lemons! *love radiation *

If travel is searching...

... and home what's been found, I'm in a hell of a journey right now, and I don't mean this in a good sense. All the flats and rooms for rent in Sofia seem to be either filthy, or in dodgy neighbourhoods, or both. It's a nightmare. And when I do find where to live, I'll have to work, to figure out the topic of my thesis, to live with my sister - in short, to struggle a lot.

Last night I watched a series of shorts, called 10 Minutes Older - among the directors were Aki Kaurismäki, Wim Wenders, Werner Herzog, Spike Lee, Victor Erice, Jim Jarmush. I liked Erice's best, although admittedly I was a teensy bit too tipsy to properly appreciate the second half of the films :p I's comforting to know that some things haven't changed despite time and space alterations - like Alexander's always having some cinematic gems to share.

Pikkujoulu

The ESN pre-Christmas party (or Pikkujoulu) took place last night in Lozzi (on campus) and then Kharma. Santa Claus was there (I sat on his knee :D My first time ever, at 25), I got a present, and gave one. There was punch with starfruit, porridge with cinnamon and berry sauce (Christmas porridge??), some games, some dancing, some heartache which I was the onfidante for, and a lot of alcohol brought in by the students. Some of us were properly dressed up, including suits and night gowns. I contributed to the celebretaion spirit with a pair of extremely cute angel earrings and a hairband with tiny jinging bells :o) And just before that Martin and I were in the church listeting to Christmas carols in Finnish sung by the congregation. It was all a festive affair.

Then we went to Kharma, most of us properly drunk already (but not me). It was alright there, save for the music, which was dull, there was some more games, as there was another Pikkujoulu going on there, and more and more alcohol, of course. I stayed sober the whole night. Since so many people are going home, there was ample hugging, kissing and crying. In the end I had to walk home of course, because Ewelina's bike's lock was frozen. A good evening overall, which would've been better if I had drunk more and if it wasn't the last one for all of us together.

December

So many meanings in one month.

My last weeks in Finland. My last days with the people I met here. The last parties, last walks in the town, last lectures, last common lunches in the university cafeterias, last dinners in pizzeria "Maria", last surges of longing.

My second Christmas away from my family - and first one away from friends, too. But closest to Santa Claus I've ever been!

My fisrt consiously-bought Christmas advent calender - Muumi-themed, of course (and yes, it is exactly the one in the picture. Cute, ain't it!). My first church Christmas carols evening (looking forward to it).

The shortest days and longest nights I've seen. Probably the coldst weather I've experienced, but still waiting for this one.

Hopefully a wonderful closure to a wonderful semester here. I love Finland by now. I liked it in the beginning, but I love it now. I wonder who wouldn't.

Baltic tales

When I was little, I had books with fairy tales form all sorts of countries in the world. My favourite one was Fairy Tales of the Baltic People. It was navy in colour, with glossy hardback and smooth thick pages, and beautiful illustrations, which I remember used to scare me a little bit - which I now realise means that they were good illustrations - and by a different Baltic artist for each country. I read these tales repeatedly and enjoyed them immensely each time. So they comprised my knowledge of the Baltic region, and it never occurred to me that I would some day make direct contact with the world that produced my beloved glossy book with my real, physical senses.

I am ever so glad I eventually did. I spent four days in Riga and felt elated almost the whole time. Beautiful town. Art nouveau centre under the open sky, pink and ochre walls, a mylliard of little towers and spikes on red-bricked buildings, paved streets, devout lovers' names engraved on padlocks on the bridges. We had traditional Latvian food, found a delightful bakery where we had cake and real coffe for breakfast each morning, walked and walked the streets, ventured the local clubs (not so nice) and visited the Occupation museum, advertised as a must-see in the Riga journals we got at the hostel. It was indeed moving, and horrifying too, and I found it touching that they had set up this museum, which is supported through vistors' donations, in order to comemmorate those who lost their lives and dignity during the violation of Latvia's freedom by Soviet and Nazi oppressors, and to show the world what Latvian people have been through.

It was also great for me personally that we were a big group of people doing stuff together in that totally unknown city, like just walking the streets and reading their funny names, taking pictures on canon guns and weird bright red papier-mache rabbits, having meals, waiting in a queue for 40 minutes at 2 o'clock in the morning in order to have a McChicken combo, sleeping in the same dorm room and sharing a single bathroom for 15 people (fun), looking at the town sinking below us while travelling to the 25th floor of a hotel at sunset - stunning, simply stunning! - and so the list goes on. It was bonding, for me. So it was precious.

But the best part was that we happened to be there on Independence day, so we got to experience the national holiday pride and see prety much every inhabitant at the city, as wll as the country's military might in the parade. Standing among the crown of nation-proud people while their national anthem was playing, in a chilly wind by the river, was just exhilarating. And in the evening, breathtaking fireworks over the river!!! Oh, it was a beautiful experience!

On the downside, it was very expensive. But that's all on this side :)

Now back in Jyvaskyla, where I have to bury myself in studying. Oh well. You have fun, you pay the price for it.

Pictures made by Valerio, Martin and me.

Сняг, снежец - бял, беленичък!

It's snowing today! Excitement wells up inside me and I feel restless and exhilarated. I browsed the web for winter poetry and songs and came across a wonderful Bulgarian-French site for Bulgarian folk songs. Pure beauty they are, especially the Rhodopean ones - here goes one of my favourites:

Да не си се юплашило,
невесто хубава, невесто гиздава,
кога дойдат сватовете,
при тебе, за тебе, невесто хубава,
кога дойде лудо-младо,
при тебе, за тебе, невесто хубава,
да открие бело вало,
от лице, от лице, невесто хубава,
и йоткачи тельовете,
од глава, од глава, невесто хубава!

And a very rough translation:

Fear not,
o pretty bride, bonny bride,
when matchmakers come,
when they come to you, when they come for you, o pretty bride,
when your beloved comes,
when he comes to you, when he comes for you, o pretty bride,
to lift your white veil,
to uncover your face, to uncover your face, o pretty bride,
and take off the hair pins,
from your head, from your head, o pretty bride!

And another one (I can't help it!):

-Фатмиш, майчина дощеро,
оти се, Фатмиш, забави?
-Забавихме се, мале ле,
сиво ми стадо премина,
та ми водица размотьи,
та чеках да се отмотьи.
-Фатмиш, майчина дощеро,
стара са майка не ложе,
стари са татко не мамьи,
чьорни са очи плакали.

"Fatmish, my daugther,
why are you, Fatmish, so late?"
"I am late, dear mother,
for a grey herd passed through,
and muddled the water,
so I waited for it to become clear."
"Fatmish, my daughter,
you cannot lie to your old mother,
you cannot fool your old father,
your black eyes have shed tears."

On a different, but equally pleasant note, we had a genuine Italian dinner last night, which was a lot of fun, and quite cosy, not to mention delicious. The pasta was home made in the most literal sense of the word - the gradmother of one of the Italians (who was our cook) had made it herself and sent it to him.

I love it when it snows!

A magical journey

Surprises come in so many different shapes! In a second everything you thought you knew about yourself can be upturned and gaily mocked by the Grand Designer, who/whatever s/he/it is, while you're struggling, trembling, to copmprehend what it all means. I don't care what it means. I can't remember feeling this way for too long a time.

St Petersburg is magical. The thought of these four days fill me with hot air, lift me off the ground and leave me hovering about, feeling joyful, feeling festive, feeling actually happy!...

I wish with all my heart I would remember every bit of it as vividly as I have it in me now. The Hermitage and the sunset-tinged Neva outside its windows, surrounded by Rennaisance splendour; Nevsky prospect at night and day; the sushi bar, tense with revelations; the frosty wind on the river and my hair flying over the plastic shampagne cup; the baroque grandeur of Catherine's reign; the handsome Russian faces and their piety before the gates of the churches; my snow-sprinkled scarlet muffler in the whismical graveyard; the bridges, the souvenir vendours, the cyrillic letters everywhere, this whole breathing city full of stories and superstitions, of history, hugeness and vibrating life - it's got to be unforgettable. It all opened me up, let me out, enabled my feelings and, put very simply, made me happy.

Weekly update

I went to the first pyjama party of my life last night. It was quite a bit of fun. I was led to believe I would be denied entrance if I didn't have pyjamas or at least a baggy T-shirt on, so I actually went downtown and bought a pair of pyjamas (maroon, by the way, like Ron Weasley's!). Of course the party was full of people in normal clothes. I don't regret it, though, because my friends were in pyjamas, and it was a lot of fun. There were guys in nightgowns, and even one with a pillow on his head. Erasmus is definitely making up for my lost teenage years.

It seems there is nothing else here but constant socialising. There was an Indian evening before the party, but apart from the topic and the chai, there was nothing Indian about it. It was all Finnish through and through. Everything - from the moments where Hindi pop was to be played to the group discussions - was meticulously planned and organised. I did have a wave of emotion watching the pictures, though - many of them were of towns and even streets I remember so vividly! India seems to have embedded itself in my life in some novel, previously unnown way. I feel like I have it within me. India here means my experience of India, of course.

Regular weather update - now really cold, in a frosty, biting way, and I can see my breath. I like this kind of weather. There was frost this morning as well. But the sky is clean and there is sunshine for the most of the day.

I sat for my first exam yesterday as well. I thought it was quite easy, but better wait and see. I should be studying or at least cleaning right now, but, gosh, am I lazy!