adapted from an English essay

There is no doubt that the Finish lifestyle and a Finnish person’s mentality are quite distinct from others. They have been shaped by proud history, and a country which was not always such a comfortable place to live. It is often said that foreigners can be easily identified in Helsinki, for no Finn breaks a smile when walking alone. An outwardly cheery disposition is indeed a rare thing for a Finn, most prefering to shut away the outside world when it is not required. This often gives foreigners the impression that Finns are rude and unsociable, an opinion fairly justified, yet one which is not entirely accurate.

Finns are ultimately as social as any other peoples, although this is rarely apparent with strangers. It is nothing peculiar to observe a typical frowning Finn pick up a phone and suddenly burst into a lively conversation, often disregarding the nuissance this might cause to others. Mobile phones are indeed an ever present factor in Finnish socialisation, although this is no longer unique to Finland. Internet based socialization thrives among teens and young adults with the use of websites such as IRC- Galleria and Facebook. A more traditional social lubricant is of course alcohol, and Finns can be sure to apply it liberally during the dark depressing months of winter. Alcohol is an ever present part of Finish culture, and many take pride in the various, occasionally illegal, home brewed concoctions.

Discussing Finnish social habits inevitably requires a mention of Finnish curse words, renowned for their strenght of expression by many a foreigner learned enough to be familiar with them. Any Finn who understands the unique worth of his or her native swears is surely proud of the heritage. Indeed, this is one tradition we can applaud the youth for preserving.

Should a foreigner for some absurd reason wish to emulate the Finnish lifestyle, he would do well to begin by shedding away the token politenesses which his original culture has no doubt hammered into him. Surprisingly, this is as easily done as it is said. For this I can vouch with my personal experience from moving back to Finland after having lived in England for five years. In England I was schooled into a very polite boy, and upon returning to Finland I surprised teachers and store clerks alike with my politeness. Soon however, I realised that in everyday situations in Finland simple goals could often be achieved with as little as a grunt of acknowledgement, with perhaps a mumbled thanks if you are having a good day, which unfortunately is unlikely should you wish to fully intergrate yourself into the Finnish society.

While opinions may differ, I would consider the hallmarks of a true Finn to be pride for ones country, appreciation for a hardly cheery outlook on life, and respect for Finnish traditions. Consider that all of these can be present at say, a men’s sauna evening, where they complain about the degenerating state of the world, drink beer and make superb arguments for why Finland is a superior country.

I stopped to look outside through the school's glass walls as I walked upstairs, to find, to my delight, that throwing snowballs is allowed! Some of you might be surprised to know that throwing snowballs in Finnish schools is strictly banned, due to the possibility of accidents. I was even more surprised when an elderly teacher stopped beside me observe the re-enactment of the winter war unfolding in the yard below, commenting on how fun it looked.

I was tempted to join in, but class was starting soon, so I was content with observation. After a light skirmish the girls found themselves huddled in a corner against the fence, bombarded by a coalition probably united only because of the common, easy target. One girl had a snowball to her face (Mind you this was quite "dry" snow, so the snowball shatters quite well on impact.) and as her friends huddled around her to check if she was ok, someone ran behind them round the fence, and so they were punished for exposing their rear. Surprisingly, the girls then scattered to attack 'the coalition', who then turned on each other while everyone fell back to the warmth and safety of the school. On the other hand I have seen someone attacked by friend who had smuggled snow upstairs...

So, today I have been inspired to write about the subtleties of winter warfare, not that I would consider myself an expert on the issue, but I shall pretend I am. As with any competitive sport, there is a notion of fair play, or as I prefer, 'chivalry'. While this may otherwise imply a gentlemanly way of war, it doesn't seem to include a similar respect for women as in the Middle Ages. Well, there's gender equality for you.

The most basic agreement between two gentleman combatants is the range, the space between the opponents. This may not be specifically agreed upon verbally, but can be noticed should you observe two combatants. The vulnerable moment of reloading is obviously a tempting moment to close in on the attack, but then one risks being given similar treatment. Should the battle seem unnecessary prolonged however, it is likely the opponents will close the distance, inevitably leading to fairly close combat. Even here there is a certain notion of chivalry. The perfect gentleman warrior will not grab his opponent, but will artfully scoop snow off the ground and fling it into his adversaries face, while dodging any such attempts by the enemy. It is an interesting predicament when dueling adversaries find themselves at a lull in the fight, at close quarters, both with snow in hand. The first to "pull the trigger" gives the other a predictable advantage.

It is possible for a duel to degenerate into a brawl, a culmination off inconclusive yet provocative attacks on both sides. As this might not be considered the culmination of chivalry, it usually only occurs between well acquainted gentlemen. This might involve attempts to trip your enemy, so that you may more easily drop snow on your foe's face. Obviously fighting such as this is more common with an abundance of snow, so that a tripping an enemy will not break his face, but rather have it 10cm in the snow. Such an act will often have a less determined warrior yield. The victor might celebrate by "accidentally" dropping/kicking some snow into the adversary face, and will then bask in all the appropriate honour and glory. No ransoms, unfortunately.

Another approach to fighting is what I like to call Viking Rage™. Which ideally involves you charging fearlessly at the enemy, preferably screaming your war cry of choice. While this technique has potential to be incredibly intimidating, a disciplined adversary will easily shoot the fighting spirit out of a novice Viking Rage™ user with a well aimed snowball. A determined Viking however, cannot be stopped without a moderately large fortress, and will shrug off all damage as if he never felt it, as such, they excell in brawls.  Using Viking Rage™ will often leave you wet and cold, but your pitiful gentleman adversary will be far worse off.

Winter, also known as the "campaigning season", is a dangerous time. I might be exaggerating slightly, but just today I was unchivalrously ambushed by two of my so called friends, and after a short, self defence induced Viking Rage™ I made a narrow escape riding off on my bicycle. Viking Rage™ is especially useful when ambushed, as such an unchivalrous attack by your foe makes use of Viking Rage™ more than acceptable. I also had an enjoyable success myself today, as I attacked our as of yet unexperienced American exchange student, Sodfoot, while he was dueling Cheesemeister. (A good friend of mine, known for his unhealthy - some say distrubing - obsession with cheese.) With skill which would make a (pirate-)ninja envious, I slipped a snowball in his hat, bwuahahaa...

Apologies for the recent lack of content, I tend to plan on writing after more important work, and then I find myself too tired. So today, in honour of my evening's as of yet fruitless procrastination, I have decided to get around to some writing. No guarantees for the entertainament value of this text however...

I feel somewhat obliged to write about the events at Jokela school, something no doubt everyone has heard about. It was a melancholy day when we heard the news. We were getting changed for PE in the locker room when we heard the rumours. Shocked we were, yet not entirely convinced, until one of us called his brother to confirm it to be true. Three casualties we heard, and I watched the desperate disbelief on everyones faces. It did take time to sink in. Simple comments were exchanged as we stretched,  but the football game was one of the most enjoyable we have had. I'm not a fan on football, but we separated into two games, and the other seemed to have all the pros, which meant our game was filled with the just as zealous, but often quite incompetent players. Hilarity ensued. I even recruited a lone little kid who was waiting for his practice onto our side. Certainly something comical about a little boy dominating a game of 15-16 year olds ^^

As I said it took time to really sink in; every now and then you would remember the news, and it was like feeling a weight drop in your stomach, until the weights gathered and you really had to stop to think about it. I got home, talked about it with my parents, read the news on BBC, and shared my horror with friends on MSN. It just so happened that an unusal amount of melancholy songs played on my itunes... maybe it's just me? By now the casualties had mounted to eight.

The next day at school was oddly hollow too. Our first lesson was music, but the teacher was nowhere to be seen. I sat at the back talking with a friend. She said she heard an speech begin on the PA system, so we went outside the sound proof room to listen. Slowly people followed from the class, all sitting silently outside. We stood up for the moment of silence. There was something hopeful in that... seeing our gathered rabble and the few other people in the corridor stand up for those who suffered. The teacher came eventually, apologised, and mumbled about having been reading news or something. She has my sympathies.

The news might have vanished from worldwide news by now... but it isn't something anyone here will forget. It's odd how much this has effected me. I wasn't distressed during 9/11, perhaps I was too young then... even the tsunami disaster didn't much shake me. It probably should have.

Click here if you would like to light a candle for the victims at Jokela.  

As I was writing iTunes picked me the song by Flogging Molly, "It's been the worst day since yesterday." Fitting.