In celebration of Juhannus, which is a summer solstice holiday, Rami and I went out with a few of his coworkers for drinks, a decadent and excellent dinner, and, finally, more drinks. Although some of them were hesitant to speak English with me, perhaps for the same reason that I am fearful of using the little Finnish that I know, we had a nice time together. They had quite a few questions about the United States, and English language in general.
When they asked how many kilometers separated my town and New York City, however, I could only answer them in terms of how many hours it takes to get there. One of Rami’s coworkers, a translator who has spent some time in the United States, explained that, when casually asked about the distance between two points, we Americans almost always measure distance in terms of time. I once read a cultural guide to Finland written by an English woman, and in it she predicted that this scenario might occur. According to her, however, this is a convention used by all English speakers, not exclusively Americans. They had a bit of a chuckle at how imprecise that method of measurement is, saying, “But who knows how many times you’ll stop?”
Last night, we finally went for one of those midnight walks that I had so longed to take. The dusky light, pouring an iridescent sheen over the lake, was a marvel.
Rami is continually amused at my elation over the midnight sun. To him, it is as normal as are the precious few hours of sunlight in the Finnish winter. To me, it is something of a natural miracle. I’m not sure why I’m so enamored of this continuous dusk, one that lasts until the sun begins to rise again. One thing is certain, though: I can see why Juhannus continues to be celebrated, even now that pagan superstition has long since disappeared.
Suomi Summer 