The Joyful Family

We are ascending a gentle slope towards the crest of a hill. Our path is illuminated by the dim radiance of the moon upon the snow. A silhouette of spruce lament, as subdued voices can be heard in the distance. We approach the apex, and our eyes are greeted by an entirely dissimilar view. Before us stands an expanse of granite memorials. Each is warmed by the placid flame of a candle. I cannot articulate a single word in response, for such a vision demands utter reticence. We proceed towards the center of the churchyard, and it is here where families may light a candle in remembrance of those who have passed before them. This event occurred on the night of Christmas Eve, and I do not believe that its impression will ever recede from my memory.

On the sixth day of December, the Utajärvi Orchestra and I performed a brief concert, as a memorial of Finland’s independence from Russia in 1917. Throughout the duration of the performance, we played Lippulaulu (a patriotic commemoration of the Finnish flag) and Maamme (a piece which is translated as “Our Land,” which is Finland’s national anthem). The majority of those in attendance were veterans who had served during the Winter War of 1939-1940. These stalwart contributors of their nation’s freedom remained in an utter trance of solemnity, as the music satiated the room and the memories returned into cognition. I had never before observed such a profound reverence, and I am truly blessed to have witnessed its progression.

On the 18^th of this month, I gave a PowerPoint presentation to a 5^th year class in an elementary school. The report encompassed aspects of the United States’ lower secondary school system vs. Finland’s primary school system, the recreational time of American adolescents, and the various traditions of the Christmas season. During the preliminary introduction, I addressed the students in Finnish; however, previously, the instructor recommended that I speak in English, as her pupils would benefit from the experience. Thus, the majority of my presentation proceeded hence, but the slides were written in both the English and the Finnish languages. Subsequently, numerous inquiries were articulated; in particular the American Santa Claus and his inimitable habit of entering each home via descending a chimney was a very imperative inquest among the students. I thoroughly enjoyed my time amongst such inquisitive young adults, and I hope that I may have such an opportunity in the near future. 

From the 1^st to the 5^th of December, I traveled 364 km north of Oulu (approximately 227 miles) to the tranquil village of Muonio in northern Finland. Fringing upon the threshold between Finland and Sweden, Muonio harbored an expanse of undulating hills and spruce of which both were enveloped in a brilliant mantle of snow. Approximately, 130 exchange students were cordially housed within a hotel lodge under the shadow of three resplendent fells. Fortunately, both Mr. Manninen and our neighbor had permitted me to borrow all the necessary equipment for the journey. I spent the majority of the weekend cross-country skiing relatively 12 miles with small group of individuals. The other students descended the slopes of a ski resort on snowboards or skis. During our stay, we visited a reindeer farm and a sled-dog team encampment. Moreover, we were treated to a history of the lifestyle of the indigenous Sami inhabitants of Lapland. 

On the 15^th, Mr. Manninen, Elias, Selja, Aapeli, Milja, Vilma, and I journeyed once more to the highly esteemed summer cottage in Lalli. However, on this occasion we did not utilize a shovel; instead, on that morning Mr. Manninen was furnished with a hand saw—the time had finally arrived to claim a Christmas tree! For one hour, we scoured the grounds to discern the location of the perfect specimen for the holiday season. Elias and I pulled a miniature slay, which was laden with Vilma and Milja, as we followed the company into the forest. Many trees were regarded as having admirable qualities, but the ultimate decision was left to the entirely capable discretion of Milja and Vilma. After only a few seconds of deliberation, we were returning to the cabin—only now Elias and I each had one hand towing the sled and other two dragging a pair of immaculate Christmas trees.

On the 22^nd, the Manninen Family and I traveled to Oulu to partake in a family pikkujoulu (a little Christmas party). Many of Mr. Manninen's relatives were in attendance: his mother and father, his three brothers, his sister-in-laws, and his nephews/nieces. The evening was indeed very heartening, with numerous Christmas carols, various games, and the amiable company of my sisters and brothers, of course. I conversed with many of the family members, and towards the conclusion of the celebration, Mr. Manninen’s mother procured everyone (including myself) with an early Christmas gift—a pair of wool gloves she had very considerately woven. 

In my previous entry, I related that I would be participating in a dance course in the third period of my high school. However, I do not believe the word “participating” adequately illustrates the reality of the situation. I am of the opinion that the word “impotent” appropriately describes my inability to dance, yet my partner persists to state that my capabilities are satisfactory. However, the date of our performance in February is disconcertingly approaching. Hopefully, I may retain the memory of the majority of the dances when the day arrives. The dances vary from the Viennese Waltz to Finnish Tango, and I must say that I take the utmost pleasure in each dance. 

On the 23^rd, the Manninen family and I devoted an entire evening to decorate the Christmas tree and our home. Subsequently, Vilma, Milja, and Aapeli thoroughly entertained the entire family by dancing to a variety Christmas jingles. Unfortunately, due to the fact that Milja and Vilma were not accustomed to being so disproportionate, they immensely struggled to maintain their balance during the spinning phase of each song. 

Earlier that day, the house was thoroughly cleaned to symbolize the birth of Christ. On Christmas Eve, Joulupukki (Father Christmas) visited our home, as we welcomed him with an amiable carol. He proceeded to sit in the middle of the living room, and after reading the names written upon the packages, he distributed the Christmas presents accordingly. Later that evening, the rather jolly old fellow said farewell, and the evening was concluded with opening presents and singing affable Christmas carols. 

In November, my mother was very gracious to send me a few of her illustrious Christmas cookie recipes. Consequently, Sonja and Jenni were very fond of the notion of preparing these for the Christmas season. Thus, on the 24^th, cookie dough was hurled to every corner and crevice of the kitchen, as we despairingly wrestled the mixer to the floor--we were still rasping the residue from off the walls of the kitchen on Christmas Day. However, the incident could have been conveniently avoided if Jenni would have listened to my advice to pour four cups of flour into the mixer instead of six—Jenni is rather persistent, you see. In actuality, the affair was very enjoyable with no calamities to speak of, as my noticeably sardonic personality had previously suggested.

As can be derived from the former passage, I have developed a very strong relationship with my wonderful sisters—particularly Jenni and Sonja. Both girls are remarkably intelligent, yet they possess a modesty that is beyond my comprehension. They have been exceedingly charitable with the kindness they have imparted to me throughout the past five months. Their patience with the apathetic time it has taken for me to communicate in Finnish has been more long-suffering than I deserve. Furthermore, Sonja and Jenni have been my greatest tutors—teaching me an impartial paradigm of modesty, humility, and honesty. I believe I have developed into a more understanding individual as a direct consequence of their unconditional benevolence. Indeed, I am greatly privileged to call them my beloved friends.

Elias, Selja, and Aapeli have also been extraordinary siblings. Elias continually displays a maturity far beyond his age by his decisive willingness to assist his father. He excels in every aspect of his life, and he will undoubtedly become an exceptional man in the future. Selja is a very creative girl who is never content with the conventional methods of resolving a problem. Aapeli has remained the family thespian, and his love of computer games and Aku Ankka (Donald Duck) continues to thrive. 

Milja and Vilma are still little bundles of vivacity, yet Mrs. Manninen has delegated the commission of chasing them throughout the house to Sonja and Jenni. The pictures that they have so generously drawn for me continue to fill the sides of my wardrobe. Moreover,Vilma and Milja have a profound infatuation with both card and board games. Recently, they have been particularly inclined to drag their victim to the ground, so they may play Safari Photography--but do not be deceived, for these girls are very severe when the game has been initiated. 

Mr. and Mrs. Manninen have been exceptionally thoughtful and wonderful parents to me throughout the entirety of my stay. Their disposition to assist and encourage me has been one of my greatest reassurances, and my gratitude for what they have done cannot be adequately expressed. Along with my parent's example, Mr. and Mrs. Manninen's unconditional and inexhaustible adoration for their children will serve as an archetype for my parenting in the future. 

On the 2^nd of January I will be leaving the Manninen family and staying with my Rotary President, her husband, and their 9-year-old boy. Although this alteration is integral in the exchange process, I will deeply miss the company of this truly astonishing family.

Sincerely,

Matt Parlette

A Privileged Life

An ivory mantle embraces the earth, and the gleam in the eyes of the boy is remarkably disconcerting. Ever so deliberately, he lowers his arm to a mound of snow. I apprehensively inhale. The invariable smile engraved upon the boy's face persuades my foot to tremble. My blood pressure increases, as my heart hammers against my chest cavity. My breathing accelerates, the blood departs from my hands and feet, and I can almost envision the glycogen being converted into glucose.

Regrettably, this Sympathetic Nervous System response was too protracted, and I could not escape. Snowballs hummed in the air, as Aapeli advanced upon my left flank. I desperately scrambled towards a bush, but two of the spherical projectiles battered my vertebral column. Utterly anesthetized, I could not perform a fitting counteroffensive. Aapeli seized the opportunity without hesitation. With that explicit sneer and a hearty chuckle, he raised an immense heap of snow over my pleading arms and concluded the encounter.

The previous description relates my recreational time at the Manninen's summer cottage in Lalli. I was enthralled to perceive that Aapeli shares a similar infatuation of snow with me. Consequently, we commenced this season of perpetual brilliancy with a battle that would make Waterloo seem inconsequential. Spheres of mud, grass, and sodden snow dashed through the bitter air on its descent to unsuspecting victims – chiefly Sonja and Jenni. Subsequently, Aapeli and I have conferred our future exploits in the upcoming weeks, as we are expecting a reputable measure of snow for our ammunition, fortifications, and mode of transport – Aapeli greatly reminds me of an approximate version of my younger, and a more vivacious, self.

During my stay, Mr. Manninen, Elias, Aapeli, Selja, and I assisted their relatives in restoring the 100-year-old cottage. On the twenty-sixth and the twenty-seventh of October, we exhumed approximately two feet of earth within the interior of the home. Various wheelbarrows were escorted into and out of the structure by means of a ramp and inexhaustible vitality. As we wrought the ground with our shovels, Selja and Aapeli scoured for the highly coveted artifacts, which had been interred for nearly eighty years. The afternoons were a pleasant interlude from our labor, and I had the equally as amiable fortune to talk with Mr. Manninen's brothers. One gentleman traveled nearly 500 km (310 miles) to northern Finland from Tampere to volunteer his assistance for this undertaking. Consequently, this stands as an impeccable example of the Finnish man's work ethic and his willingness to support his family. Thoroughly satisfied with the accomplishments of the weekend, Mr. Manninen ferried the four slumbering youths to Pӓivӓrinne, as the day diminished into ebony. 

On the 18^th of this month, the second-year students at the Muhoksen Lukio held a social gathering for every first year pupil – including myself. The night was arranged around a broad spectrum of activities in which the objective was that of unperturbed integration. The events ranged from Finnish Karaoke to a rather physically taxing obstacle course in the gymnasium. Additionally, mostly every teacher participated in the proceedings to disband all notions of social mortification. The evening was a tremendous method to further ingrain myself within the student body and to converse with the faculty at a relatively indistinguishable plane.

Moreover, on the 19^th of October, I sang with the Lukion musiikkiryhmӓ (the high school music class) at the Muhoksen kirkossa (the Muhos church). Our group was relatively small, only 11 students, but our performance was admirably received by the community. 

On the 6^th of November, I was introduced to the remarkable sport of Ice Hockey in my physical education course. Previously, I had not the slightest proficiency in the technique of skating, but my prior knowledge of roller blading facilitated a gradual transition. Fortunately, I was able to participate in the lesson, and I believe I additionally provided my fellow students with a rather amusing spectacle. In the end, I have to say that my preference lies with hockey in comparison to the former pastime. Furthermore, on the 14^th, our class indulged in a fencing lesson in Oulu. After a brief introduction to various, parries, thrusts, counters, and advances, we practiced dueling in rotations. I tremendously enjoyed the experience, and my childhood dream was fully satisfied. 

From the 22^nd to the 24^th of October, during Finland’s autumn holiday, I traveled to Haapajӓrvi (approximately 155 kilometers southeast of Muhos) with the Manninen family. Here, we stayed with Mr. Manninen’s mother and father for a tranquil repose in a humble community. The grandmother was profoundly hysterical and benevolent towards her grandchildren and me. Throughout the duration of our stay, she was adamant that we should accompany her for a swim in the frigid waters of a nearby river. I was relieved to discern that the trepidation of such an activity was not excluded from the faces of Sonja and Jenni. Mr. Manninen’s father was also quite approachable and congenial. During my stay, he related that his father had perished during the Winter Wars of 1945 against the Soviet Union. The grandfather showed me an album of every young man in that region of Southern Ostrobothnia who gave his life to defend the homeland. Indeed, I was exceptionally privileged and honored when he asked me to hold an artifact that was found on his father’s person when the latter was unearthed from Russian soil in 1997. 
On the 23^rd, we visited an antiquated church fringing upon a serene river, and Mrs. Manninen related a small portion of the former’s history to me with the utmost conviction and gratitude. Later that day, I traveled a few kilometers southeast of Haapajӓrvi to a bridge that was esteemed to hold many memories of Mr. Manninen’s childhood.

On the 11^th of this month, the Manninen Family treated me to an incomparable visit to Pohjois-Pohjanmaan museo (the Museum of Northern Ostrobothnia). The exhibits varied from Sweden’s rule of Finland between 1581-1809 and Finland’s status as a Grand Duchy of Imperialist Russia, to the Winter Wars. Also, displays of the Swedish aristocracy during the Early Medieval Ages were quite intriguing as well.  

On the 3^rd of November, I was invited to partake in a moose hunting excursion with Miika, a second-year student from the Muhoksen Lukio. The expedition transpired on a rather impressive partition of forest in Muhos. Observably, my knowledge concerning this manner of hunting was incompetent at best. However, Miika, his father, and I convened with a throng of huntsmen at a modest wilderness hut, and I quickly discerned that my savoir-faire would not be imperative. A debate commenced, in regards to the tracking strategy and the distribution of the hunters, after the preliminary greetings had been articulated. In the end, it was decided that we should encircle the prospective quarry in a 5-acre allotment of forest. Two audacious men would enter the forest and incite the game to travel in a specific direction. Consequently, a hunter would dispatch the moose, and we would return to our homes in utter elation. Unfortunately, the reality was quite contrary to our expectations: the moose had left the partition moments before our arrival. Nevertheless, the affair proved to be indisputably priceless. 

During a Rotary meeting on the 12^th, my club conferred a birthday celebration for me. Towards the end of meeting, my Youth Exchange Officer presented me with a handsome wool sweater. The night was concluded, as the members approached me and expressed their congratulations with robust handshakes and affable smiles.

On the thirteenth,during the Finnish lesson in Oulu, Haruka and Rachel (extraordinary friends) astounded me with an Advent Calendar, a birthday card, and a chocolate Santa. Following my course, I was greeted by a pleasant surprise. I entered the home, set aside my coat and bag, and the Manninen Family started to sing Paljon onnea vaan (happy birthday), as I walked into the living room. Beaming smiles emanated from their faces and I could not find a single word to express my gratitude. I was seated, and Milja and Vilma approached me with wonderfully colored illustrations and a beautiful postcard from the museum. In unison they exclaimed, “Happy Birthday, Matt!” Selja and Aapeli presented me with two notebooks and a striking puzzle. Mr. and Mrs. Manninen handed me a spectacular tie clip that symbolized Thor’s hammer in Nordic Mythology. Likewise, Sonja and Jenni, having rather unparalleled senses of humor, bestowed an artistic depiction of my character traits: a compilation of various pictures and English/Finnish adjectives, which were all quite flattering (i.e. “old man,” “nerd,” etc.). On the 17^th, Jenni, Sonja, Mirette (a very kind friend), Sanna, and Minna (twin sisters who are also very genial) celebrated a “Formal Saturday” birthday celebration for Emmi and I. Two days ago, Elias entered my room and presented me with a candlestick he had whittled in his woodworking class. The beauty of this piece and the time he spent in fashioning it surpassed my comprehension.

Who am I to deserve such unconditional generosity and kindness? Who am I to be so utterly privileged? Indeed, there is no word to express the appreciation I have for both my friends and my family. 

Sincerely,

Matt Parlette

The Inviolable Land: 2nd Entry

The sun has emerged from its dormancy, and the land is encompassed with a scarlet veil. Clinging to the arms of the boreal forest, an ivory frost emits a radiance that will be lost to the advancing day. The embers of a placid fire offer an amiable warmth against the night's lingering severity. Looking upon the forest's floor, one will observe an expanse of deep moss and prolific lingonberries. Nothing is to be heard save the remote echoes of the Capercaillie--Finland's woodgrouse. At this baying, a company awakens from utter tranquility. They rummage about the ground for the equipment that has been regrettably dispersed, and they proceed towards the direction of the outcry. Two huntsmen hasten onwards with a premeditated gait, as the ungainly adolescent brings up the rear with lumbering strides. The object of this expedition is known to all, yet the latter member seems to inadvertently render it unviable: a tempest's thunder was never destined to be heard before the stroke of lightening was to be seen. Nevertheless, the group charges the ever diminishing trail of the quarry until the sun has arisen to its highest apex. Although not even a single plume is ascertained this morning, the excursion has proven rather incomparable.

The former depiction related the events of a hunting trip I spent with Mr. Manninen and Elias in Lalli, Finland. Nestled approximately 50 kilometers northeast of Muhos, this quaint countryside was invigorating beyond any suitable portrayal. Prior to hunting, the rest of the Manninen family and I frequented their 150-year-old summer cottage, and we spent most of seventh through the ninth of September on a transcendent lake shore. Here, Vilma and Melja were impeccably resolute to ensnare a colossal perch from the abyss of the lake, while Jenni preoccupied herself with a Canon she had recently purchased. Aapeli, the fervent thespian of the family, became enraptured with the notion that he could astound gravity and momentum, as he tested the fortitude of a dilapidated bicycle on a rather steep gradient. On the 8th, Mr. Manninen, Elias, and I gathered and split firewood from a shed a few kilometers away from the cottage. The following morning, Vilma, Melja, Aapo, Selja, Jenni, Sonja, and Mrs. Manninen left the remaining males to indulge in an elusive hunt.

In my previous entry, I stated that I would be auditioning for a position in an orchestra. On the twelfth of September, I performed selected pieces of literature amongst a few musicians -- with a clarinet Mrs. Manninen was so gracious to lend me. Pettri, the orchestra's conductor resolved the evening by procuring me with a schedule for the next two months. Thus, every Wednesday and Friday -- and an occasional Thursday -- our group of twenty-two individuals rehearses approximately fifteen compositions. The group is constituted of doctors, students, lawyers, nurses, teachers, social workers, and retirees. Recently, our assembly performed an arrangement of Finnish Tango (rather different than the Argentinean version) in the Muhos Public Library with an opera singer from Oulu. We were received quite admirably by the audience, and the next two weeks have been reserved for our "sabbatical time."

Since the fourth of September, I have been enrolled in a Finnish language course in Oulu. Every Tuesday, I board a bus at 15:00 and arrive in Oulu by 16:20. I then walk a few kilometers north to a high school to begin my class. Within this assembly, there is quite a diverse arrangement of individuals: 1 Indian, 1 Greek, 1 Philippine, 4 Japanese, 1 Russian, 2 Germans, 1 French, 1 Dane, 4 British, 1 Italian, 3 Nigerians, and 4 Rotary Youth Exchange Students! My instructor is in her early twenties, and her abilities to linguistically challenge, yet encourage, are quite balanced. At the conclusion of each lesson, a list of problems from a work-book are assigned for the following week. Thus, I return to the bus stop at 19:00 and attempt to remain cognitive before entering the village of Pӓivӓrinne: missing one's bus stop is never an advisable course to entertain.

In comparison with Michigan's high school educational system, Finland offers a relatively distinct identity apart from the former. The school year is divided into five periods, or "jaksos," and the courses to be taken during these semesters are left to the discretion of the pupil. Of course every student must abide by the compulsory courses prescribed by the nation, but the manner and occasion in which he/she fulfills those requirements is rather accommodating. Additionally, a student's timetable varies with each period, and his/her attendance is dependent upon the quantity and placement of the chosen courses. At the conclusion of each jakso, students take a three-hour examination for each class (except for art, music, and physical education). Preparation for these assessments is reserved for a week of studying (one exam per day). The grading system ranges from 4-10 (instead of the GPA system). Subsequently, the first jakso was recently concluded on the first of October. During this second jakso, I am enrolled within the following courses: Advanced Placement Mathematics, Biology, Media Arts, Music, English (I am tutoring), Physical Education, Geography, and Philosophy.

Pӓivӓrinne is an agrarian hybrid between a village and a suburb. Agriculturally based on harvesting rye, barley, potatoes, and hay, this community is additionally interrupted with robust dwellings and a matrix of bicycle/walking trails. The latter are frequented by Sonja, Jenni, and I during the the evening hours with Halla and by a multitude of other civilians. At the center of the community, there lies an Evangelical Lutheran church, a convenience store, and a primary school for children between the ages of 7-12.

On the 21^st, Mrs. Manninen asked me to prepare an American meal and dessert. At first, I was inclined to concoct a roast with potatoes, carrots, and onions. However, I did not want remain too cohesive to the Manninen's typical and respectable diet. Consequently, I pillaged the freezer for ground beef and ransacked the cabinets for cumin, cayenne pepper, chili powder, garlic, coriander, and onions—Tacos were on the menu! Jenni and Sonja assisted me in pummeling the seasonings into a fine powder, as Selja felled tomatoes and lettuce for the toppings. Standing on a stool, Aapo perched his head over me, as the enlivened vapors pervaded the kitchen. Mrs. Manninen warmed the tortillas and Milja and Vilma gaped through the jalapeno jar in utter bewilderment. Everyone appeared to enjoy the meal, or perhaps I was not catching on to their Finnish courtesy. Elias and Mr. Manninen tested their valor with a heaping pile of exceptionally scorching jalapenos—I believe we went through at least 3 cartons of milk, 2 pitchers of water, 1 pitcher of juice, and 8 oranges that evening. For dessert, I prepared a rather portly rendition of chocolate chip cookies. With flour blanketing the kitchen, Sonja, Jenni, and I devised an immense embankment of cookie dough. We quarried practically baseball sized portions of the hill onto a few cookie sheets. After five minutes had passed, one would think Vilma, Melja, and Aapo were under a hypnotist’s trance, as their eyes seldom left the window of the oven. The cookies turned out to be a wonderful success, and Mr. Manninen appeared to be their greatest admirer.

Out of all of the preceding activities and descriptions, I maintain that reading to Milja and Vilma remains my utmost joy. At least twice a week, they approach me, hand me a short story, and direct me towards the couch in the living room. Here, I read the narratives in Finnish to them as they sit on either side of me. I deliver the lines at a steady rate, and occasionally one or both of my professional tutors will assist me in pronouncing an arduous word. As I conclude a page and advance to the next, Vilma and Milja exclaim in perfect unison, "Weeery good, Matt!" Recently, six drawing are hanging on my bedroom wall from the little duet, and three of my own illustrations now dangle on Milja and Vilma's door.

Sincerely,

Matt Parlette

188,000 Mirrors

Imagine your eyes fixed upon a mirror. A mirror that is not obscured by blotches of mouthwash and toothpaste from a week ago, but an expanse of glimmering silver warmed by the golden arms of the diminishing sun. The dim silhouette of spruce, pine, and birch extends towards the brim of the lake. A solitary cottage emanates a soft glow through the window panes, as tendrils of smoke are lost to the approaching night. The only audible sound is the sighing wind descending from the Arctic North. Soon winter will wrap every undulating hill in a mantle of snow, and the days will be reduced to only a strand of light. This is Finland.

Perhaps initially recognized as a distant and austere people, Finns can be overlooked. Yet, a parallel to the description above can be drawn to the inhabitants of this beautiful country. Independent and discreet, each individual examines his/her own personal looking glass. Absorbed in the events of the preceding day, each Finn contemplates what improvements can be made in his/her future. This scrutiny is not directed at any other individual. Perceived as isolated cottages, the Finns radiate a prismatic warmth once one has sought to kindle a friendship that will endure for a lifetime. Loyal, selfless, and honest, the inhabitants of Finland are exemplary portrayals of decorum and integrity.

Arrival in Helsinki and the Initial Days

Sastamala Church

My plane landed at Helsinki Airport at precisely 12.00pm on August 5th. A Rotarian was awaiting our arrival: approximately 12 other Rotary Youth Exchange Students accompanied me from different regions of the United States. We dragged are jet-legged, gelatinous bodies into a bus that transported us to Karkku (three hours northwest of Helsinki). We arrived at Karkku evangelical school and entered into a state of utter stupor. For the next six days, 125 other exchange students and I were educated about Finland's language, culture, and history. One day, we travelled a few kilometers north to the city of Tampere. Later, our tour ended at an antiquated evangelical church (Sastamala) where students sang, recited poetry, or played an instrument. On the eleventh, I boarded a train from Karkku to Oulu: roughly four hours, respectfully. Here, I would meet the Manninen Family and my home in Muhos (32 kilometers east of Oulu).


Tampere's Courtyard



The Manninen Family

I am truly fortunate and blessed to have been chosen for the Manninen family. They are one of the most contented, joyful, and loving families I have had the privilege of ever knowing. A family of nine, Mr. Manninen (Jukka) leads the pack as a jovial and light-hearted man. He cycles roughly 50 kilometers three days out of the week to work, and he thoroughly relishes every second he shares with his children. He often accompanies an operatic piece playing on the radio in the evening hours as Halla, the giddy little Australian Shepherd, matches his intonation almost perfectly! Mrs. Manninen (Ulla) is a mother who adores her children. Her personality is embodied in her mastery of the piano: her unbroken concentration contrasted by the fluidity at which each note is precisely addressed. Mrs. Manninen’s perpetual care for her children is percolated to me, as I receive her inexhaustible kindness. A silently hilarious individual, she enjoys the subtle light-hearted yarns her husband performs on a daily basis. Sonja, 17, is a quiet girl who enjoys reading within the antiquities genre of literature. She additionally favors Bach and Mozart whenever their pieces are broadcasted on the radio. Responsible far beyond her age, she assists her mother without any impression of labor. Jenni, 16, is a merry girl who aspires to become a vet in the future. Compassionate and similarly responsible, she has an inclination to find where her assistance is needed: such as a foreign exchange student who requires the aid of a fluent Finnish individual. J Elias, 14, is young man who enjoys a virtuous civil debate: particularly with his father in regards to the amount of time he is allowed to use the family computer. He is a very kind individual who thoroughly loves to spend time with his neighborhood friends at the local swimming hole, or biking through the various trails encompassing our home. Selja, 12, is quite extroverted and vivacious. She loves soaring on the trampoline for hours with her younger sisters and reading the series of Tex Willer in the evening. Aapeli, 9, is the family thespian with his varying burbs and vocal interpretations of the Aku Ankka (Donald Duck) series he assiduously reads. Aapo his nickname, also attempts to covertly play games on the computer without his father’s knowledge: he succeeds occasionally. Melja, 7, and Vilma, 5, are inseparable containment units of nuclear energy. Their incessant cascade of joy has their mother scurrying about through every waking hour of the day. They love singing in relatively close harmony, as Sonja plays the piano. Halla, the solitary dog, enjoys moderate walks – no running, thank you – and howling a welcome whenever she has not perceived one of us in the past five minutes. During our visit to a zoo in Ranua, I was getting ready to pay for my admissions ticket, when Mr. Manninen stopped me and said in broken English, “Matt, you are part of this family. We would be happy to pay for you.” This was one of the most poignant moments my memory will permit me to recall. Indeed, I am truly privileged.

Daily Routine

Every week-day morning, the family awakes at around seven and eats breakfast together. I assist Mrs. Manninen in clearing the table, washing the dishes, and sweeping the floor. I attend school until 14.30 or 15.50, and return home. I then assist Jukka and Ulla in making dinner. After this, we clean the premises and drink coffee (Jukka, Ulla, and myself). At around 20.00, Sonja, Jenni, and I take Halla for a lovely walk on the numerous trails in Paivarinne. Returning home, we read for a half an hour and go to sauna (typically on Wednesdays and Saturdays). Everyone retires for the night at 22.00. On the weekends, we awake at varying times: dependent on the activities of the preceding day. Every Saturday, Elias and I mow the lawn (he does the backyard and I do the front).

Muhos Lukio

Every week-day morning, I ride my bike to the bus stop and catch the 7.25 to Muhos Lukio (High School). My classes include the following: Finnish, Advanced Mathematics, Physical Education, Music, Media Arts, World Cultures, and English. At the end of September, I will arrange a schedule with other subjects. Iikka, Juhana, Perttu, Somi, and Rasmus have all been extraordinary friends. Every Friday night, we sit around a fire and roast sausages while discussing the past week and future ambitions. Every teacher at Lukio is enthusiastic and excited about teaching their respected subjects, and their joy reflects tremendously on the attitudes of the students. The Finnish teacher and I are meeting one-on-one for an extra lesson. In regards to the policies, much liberty is given to each student; consequently, the amount of individual responsibility is quite high. Each student is quite serious about his/her education, yet they are jovial in their recreational time. I am also enrolled in a Finnish course every Tuesday in Oulu.

 Hiking Course

 

From the 30th of August to the 1st of September, I participated in a 32 kilometer (approximately 20 miles) hiking course that was primarily funded through Muhos Lukio. The Manninens were exceedingly kind to loan me all the necessary equipment and supplies for the trip, and I only had to supplement the cost of the bus ride to Kuusamo (20 Euros). Kuusamo is part of the northern region of Finland known as Lapland. 250 kilometers from Oulu, this town is interrupted by towering Norwegian Spruce and corrugated granite. We were divided into groups consisting of 5-6 individuals. Our clan was adamant to finish first at every clearing at the conclusion of each day (for an optimal spot to raise our imposing tent, which could fit an army). We stopped occasionally on the trail to take a few pictures and to wait for Timo to join us (he preferred a modest pace).

 

 

Future Ambitions

Currently, I will be auditioning with the Bass Clarinet for Oulu's Military Orchestra next week. In the winter, I plan to participate in cross-country skiing, down-hill skiing, ice fishing, and hockey. I will also play Finnish baseball in the spring. I plan to be able to communicate proficiently in Finnish by January.

My next entry will be on the 5th of October. 

Sincerely,
Matt Parlette