It’s Sunday night and I’m leaving. The boat hits the dock and my dad lifts my sport bag from the boat. Hugs to both my parents, then I’m on the road and they stay starting the boat’s engine. When crossing an enormous bridge (there used to be a ferry boat for years crossing this water, but it was too slow for today’s people), I take one last look at the place which holds a permanent place in my heart: the archipelago. Soon I’ll be back in Helsinki, stitching some badges on to my overalls and later on opening bottles of bubbly with my Uni friends. Shouldn’t that make me happy instead of wistful? Why is it getting harder every year to leave my island place behind?

 

I have been spending time in the Finnish archipelago since I was a kid. No, actually, since I was a baby. My mother used to put pillows into a large sauna pail and put us in to the middle (with life vests of course), so then if the tiny motorboat would hit waves, babies would roll on the floor, happily asleep and unharmed. I’ve spent many a Vappu in our old place on an island, spraying the colorful Vappu spray all over the yard in dramatic wars with my brothers (of course afterwards our mom would hand us some rakes and tell us to clean everything up). I never missed Helsinki there, life was simple and fun, but also different: no running water, electricity, indoor toilets and the next contact to people 30 minutes by boat, with surprising storms making things interesting. I learned new things every day and sometimes I feel like that even though school was for learning, the life in the archipelago offered me some real education. I learned to disentangle fishing nets, chop wood, make a fire, gut fish… I also learned why roaches die if you put them to ponds full of rainwater, and how to make bows out of willow (all skills and facts which I find very useful even today).

 

When I hit puberty, all I wanted to do was to get out of the cottage. I wanted to go to Helsinki, drink warm beer in Kaivopuisto and sleep late. The only thing I did find interesting was learning how to drive the motorboat, although I couldn’t care less about studying the beacons (and yes, I had to learn them eventually). The cottage felt so small, the world was somewhere out in the nights of the city, in the wild eyes of a boy I had only kissed once, glistening in the bottom of a cider bottle.

 

But something changed. Now when I drive with my dad to a place where the sea opens and we kill the engine, let the boat ride calmly on the grey waves and stare at the reddening sky in the horizon, I find myself thinking, “This is it. This is everything I need”. What happened? I thought I wouldn’t come here voluntarily, or at least would want to get the hell out as soon as possible. Now I find myself saying that I think I could stay here for Vappu, or for a week. Or for a month.

 

I think it’s got something to do with the perspective.

 

As a kid, the most important thing was to do things new to me, to find new trees to make huts to, to find new rocks to climb and make new cool weapons from wood. (I always thought my brother’s wooden axe was the coolest). But now I miss the stability. See, even though many things change in my life in the city, new courses every period, new challenges at work, some people disappearing and new ones appearing, the archipelago stays the same. I miss the rocks that stay same, the trees that don’t seem to grow taller and the sea that has the ever-lasting rhythm of its own, shifting in ceaseless motion. When climbing to our backyard rock and staring at the horizon, my own life seems so positively insignificant and all the major problems seem to get less serious. What does it matter what grade I get from my proseminar paper or if my hair need some dyeing? The screeching seagulls don’t care about my make-up, the warm sand doesn’t require manicure.

 

I hope that this never changes.

I never thought much of the Eve of First of May or First of May until I moved to Helsinki. In my small town, these days consisted of seeing more balloons than usual and going to a special lunch with my parents where some people wore their student caps, but that was it. So when I got to experience my first vappu in Helsinki, I was in for quite a shock. The streets were full of celebrating people and there was an overall feeling of joy at the arrival of spring. It’s no surprise that at this time of the year, when bubbly wine flows free, interesting stories are born. Our veteran vappu people have also gathered a few tips and ideas for your vappu. Here is what members of the BTSB staff have to say about vappu celebrations:

On May Day, put on your overalls and the (previously) white cap, and head towards Kaivopuisto. If all your friends are too hung over to join you, you will only need one artifact to get new friends quickly: a songbook. Finns are eager singers after a few beers, and a sing-along always gets people?s spirits up (even if it rains)! -Anonymous

Vappu, weather permitting, can often be one of the greatest days of the year. By this point, spring is (hopefully) in the air and most people are winding down with their studies. The sun is shining, the hats are on, and, perhaps best of all, you get to wear your overalls! There’s truly nothing quite like getting to sit in a park with some of your closest friends, having a few drinks, and enjoying the great outdoors for the first time in a long time. This is what Vappu should be. So let me give one bit of advice. Speaking from experience, the most important bit of advice I can give is don’t pull an all-nighter the day before the festivities… Like I did last year. Because then you’ll spend every minute of Vappu Eve completely hungover… Yes, like I did last year. Trust me when I say this, Vappu is not nearly as much fun when you’re hung over. So keep it in your flask until the 30th and all will be well. -Anonymous

Live for the moment. In a student’s life, the spring is always a hectic time. Deadlines and exams just pile on top of each other, not to mention the stress about starting a new summer job or getting one if you are still looking. But vappu is a time, a couple of days, when it’s best to let go of the constant feeling of I-need-to-get-this-done and just look around and realize things are pretty good. Another winter beaten. Another hot summer ahead. I’ll tip my hat and raise my glass to this thought. -Anonymous

May Day, or Vappu, if you will, is a holiday for celebrating the worker. So, what better way to celebrate May Day than to work a night shift and receive double the pay you would usually gain while doing so? If you want to join me in enjoying a true worker’s holiday, come to McDonald’s on Isoroobertin Katu 1! (Please do, I could use the company.) -Anonymous

The staff of BTSB wish everyone a fabulously fun vappu!

“You’re a humanist? Do you actually ever learn anything practical? You know, real world stuff?” How many of you have heard something similar to this before? It’s easy to see where this kind of attitude comes from. The skills we learn and nurture in humanist studies aren’t always as easy to relate to the “real world” as those learned by a scientist or an engineer. Indeed, it seems like we humanists are often the first to suffer when it comes to budget cuts or questions about what classes are more important than others; the general opinion seems to be that arts are secondary to more “proper subjects”.

 

I don’t mean this to be a humanist manifesto and you don’t even have to be a humanist to understand what I’m talking about. Most of us, at some point in our lives, have come across people that ridicule us for pursuing something that may seem like a waste of time to those more interested in learning practical skills. However, all of that time you might’ve spent nurturing your creative side might actually help you far more than you could’ve ever imagined.

 

I recently watched a video lecture entitled “That Used to be US”. The lecture, given by two Americans, was about the decline of America and they stressed that one of the bigger problems facing Americans these days is the one-two combo of globalization and revolutions in the information technology. We, as a world, are more connected than we’ve ever been and there have been significant leaps during the past few years alone. Since 2004, the world has gotten Twitter, Skype, Facebook, and iPhones full of various apps. Imagine how different the world was just eight years ago and imagine how different it could be eight years from now.

 

With all of these revolutions in technology, jobs are disappearing for good. All of these technological revolutions have, in some ways, made our lives a lot easier by streamlining things but, in a way, our lives are also going to be much more difficult now. It’s not just the fact that technology can now do jobs that previously required humans but, because the world is so connected now, we also face far more human competition than we used to. People from around the world can apply for your spot at the university or your job just as easily as sending an email. The gentlemen in the video summed up the problem by saying this: older generations had to find a job but new generations are going to have to invent a job. In essence, we’re going to have to start being consistently more innovative in order to keep our jobs relevant. We’re going to need to specialize in non-routine skills, i.e. things that cannot be described by an algorithm.

 

Basically all of this adds up to stressing something that we haven’t necessarily stressed as much in the past: creativity.
And this brings me back to my original discussion about being a humanist. As humanists, we specialize in creativity! We study the creative and immerse ourselves in that world; many of us are highly talented people in the traditional sense of the word creative. However, I think it’s important to stress that being creative can mean other things than just being a gifted musician or artist. Essentially, we all make creative choices every day, some of them are more minor than others. Deciding what to wear that day may seem like a minor thing most of the time but it is, in itself, a creative process. Deciding how to structure that 4,000 word essay is a creative process as well. People in general are making creative choices all of the time but we have an advantage. Deep down, we already know the importance of creativity; there’s a reason we study it. Again, this is not to say that those people studying the sciences should think any less of themselves. What they do is important and more power to them for it.

 

This is also not to say that being creative alone is going to let you accomplish your wildest dreams; it will take more than that. What this is, is more a reminder to the world in general not to undermine those of us who may be studying something that isn’t as obvious in its usefulness or, in other words, is useful in a more unconventional way. We’re preparing our minds for a new kind of world: a world where there is no such thing as “average”. Being simply good at your job won’t cut it for much longer. So indulge your creative side; write that poem, shoot that film, write for BTSB (you’re welcome, editors) play that instrument, or even just try something new. Anything! By no means am I an expert on any of this and some of you might be wondering who am I to say all of this, and perhaps rightly so. I’m not attempting to revolutionize anything. I might not even be telling you anything new. I do hope, however, that I’ve gotten you to think about the future in the same way that the “That Used to be US” video prompted me. There may be times where you feel that you’re stuck in a rut but as long as you continue to nurture your creative side, you’ll always be progressing towards the future.

 

If any of you are interested in watching the “That Used to be US” lecture, you can find it here: http://www.c-spanvideo.org/program/301796-1

Some of you may find it strange that there’s an article about the closing of a Carrols in Better Than Sliced Bread. How on earth could this be relevant or interesting in any way to the average English student? Well, as an average English student (read: one who participates in a bit of studying, and a lot of drinking), I can say that the closing of a Carrols had far more of a profound effect on me than one would expect. Then again, this isn’t just any Carrols I’m talking about. This was my job for almost four and a half years. That’s longer than my university career thus far! However, most of you are probably still wondering why I would choose to write about the closing of a fast food restaurant. The thing is, I’m not really writing about the closing of a fast food restaurant; I’m writing about the bittersweet feelings that arose upon its closing and the experience I had working there.

As I said, I worked at the Carrols in Iso Omena for over four years which means I got to become very familiar with the work and with the people. Several months after the end, I can still tell you exactly how to make an Iso Carolina hamburger and I could probably even recite to you the long list of tasks waiting for the workers at closing time. These are things I did over and over and over again for several years and it probably won’t come as a surprise that these tasks became rather tedious over time. In fact, if I am to be completely honest, there were days where I felt like I could do without ever seeing another hamburger again. What made it even more difficult at times were the rude and sometimes difficult to satisfy customers that clearly had never worked in customer service before and seemed to think that they were better than all of us. By the end of my Carrols career, I was starting to feel burnt out by the work and I decided not to be transferred to a Hesburger even though I had the option.

Having said all of this, you must be thinking that I couldn’t have been happier about the closing of Carrols. However, in truth, I can still remember the shock I felt when I first heard that our Carrols was closing. Actually, what sticks with me even more is how surprised I was at the feeling of remorse I had. It was truly bizarre at the time but, in retrospect, it was completely natural. This is because, despite the fact that the work itself was sometimes tedious and undesirable, the people that I worked with couldn’t have been more fun. When we found out that our Carrols was closing, I think I can safely say that most of us weren’t as upset about losing our jobs as we were about losing our coworkers. It wasn’t long until jokes started to be made about opening up a burger-stand outside of Iso Omena where we could all continue to work together. More ambitious plans included us all moving to some place in South America where we would start our own burger restaurant. To be honest, if we all had the money, I would not be all that surprised if we were to actually to do that; we were a rather eccentric bunch. And when I say that we were eccentric, I truly mean that. To this day, I can not hear “Circle of Life” from The Lion King without thinking of my coworkers or that one fall afternoon when we played nothing but Disney music in the kitchen. On the last day of work, during our last “LP” (a post-closing smoking break), we each had a glass of champaign and actually placed funeral candles outside of our building. To continue the death theme, we had a funeral-themed party for our Carrols a couple of weeks after we served our last customer (for the record, I got the honor to serve the last customer of Iso Omena’s Carrols) and, in one of the most touching displays I’ve ever seen, several of my coworkers openly wept as we parted ways.

This might all seem very strange to you, but I hope it doesn’t. Most, if not all of you, have at one point worked at a job you really did not enjoy, and you’ll probably do so again in the future. There is the unfortunate reality that, at the end of the day, work is supposed to be work and this point is driven home particularly strongly on certain nights. However, if my experience at Carrols has taught me anything, having the right mindset can turn a mediocre experience into something absolutely great. How is it that a bunch of people working at what is essentially a fast-food place became so fond of it that, in the end, we were all singing along to Don Henley’s bittersweet “Boys of Summer” with our own version of “Boys of Carrols”? As is so often the case, the answer is actually incredibly simple: we all enjoyed the hell out of each other. During the lazy and quiet days, we’d stand around and chat about whatever came to mind. During the crazy and hectic days, we’d steal glances at each other and laugh because what else could we do? Going into my Carrols job back in 2007, I can’t even remember what I expected; probably not much. In the end, I can say at least two things: 1) everyone should have to work in customer service at least once in their life (it’s not as easy as it looks, people); and 2) try your best to get along with your coworkers because they can actually make you miss working at a fast-food place.

I will never forget a conversation I had with a childhood friend who was about three years younger than me at the time, maybe 9 while I was 12. We were in my backyard enjoying the sunny day when I told her I’d recently become interested in Star Wars. She looked me in the eye and asked, somewhat incredulously: “But isn’t that a boys’ thing?” I was so dumbfounded I couldn’t think of what to say.

It took me years to realize that my friend’s innocent question was symptomatic of our gendered culture and that society had taught her boys do boy stuff while girls do girl stuff. Looking back on my own childhood, I remember a mix of the two. You could catch me playing with Barbie, small cars and Biker Mice from Mars. I also remember being very fond of a black San Jose Sharks cap and my pink swimsuit. I suppose I was lucky to have parents who let me do my own thing. Looking back, I don’t think I was all that interested in what kind of a girl I was; I was too busy being a kid.

It’s very easy to find places where gendered marketing directed towards children (and their parents) can be seen at work. Go to any store that sells toys. Boys’ and girls’ sections are divided into different shelves and both are usually dominated by specific colors. This division implies you have to choose one when actually you don’t. What’s even sadder is that it’s not just toys that are being sold but ideas of what it means to be a girl or a boy. It creates two different worlds that don’t seem to have much in common. It plants the seed of miscommunication and sexism.

Happily, people are starting to see through it, but we still have a long way to go. I’d like you to watch this video of a little girl giving her opinion on gendered marketing. She hits the nail right on the head and uses far more sophisticated language than I ever could.

Kristiina Nieminen

Illustration by Johanna Ruuskanen

Finland prides itself on always occupying the top ranks in gender equality comparisons – prides on having a female president and a former Prime Minister, prides on having been the first country in Europe to give women the right to vote. Certainly we are in the promised country for women?

Well, there is a ‘but’. Even more than in women’s Euro, which is currently about 80 cents, the gender inequality is seen in crime rates, notably in rape statistics. In a survey from 2005 46 000 Finnish women report they had been raped during the past year. Many of them by their current life partner.

To do a comparison between different countries would be pointless because of the diverse political situations that prevail as well as due to the general attitudes regarding rape. It is clear that in countries where women’s rights are feeble fewer rapes are reported to the police, which is why the Nordic countries appear to be so high up on the lists. The figure is nevertheless too high, and only a fraction of the committed rapes actually reach the authorities’ knowledge (approximately 500 a year).

A recent sexual violence study from the U.S. reveals the horrifying situation there: every fifth woman reports having been raped in her lifetime. It is a symptom of a serious illness, the complete lack of respect towards the female body – and the whole gender.

According to the survey, 15 out of 16 rapists walk free. This is partly due to the low number of reported rapes, which in return tells its own story about the culture. Sex has become a universal human right, and if it is not freely available, as it in most TV shows is, it can be taken by force. Last year in France, a man was ordered to pay 10 000€ compensation for his wife for not having enough sex with her. Now the potential rapists have legal evidence that sex is their right, whether your head aches tonight or not. Of course the news coverage of this particular incident was vague enough not to reveal any actual numbers – was it once a year or once every decade, does not really matter, interpretations to be made freely.

Raping is not ordinary violence; the emotional damage it causes often exceeds that of the physical. It is rarely a random act of violence – most of the attackers are acquaintances or an intimate of the victim. In either case, whether the rapist is a stranger hiding in the bushes or the victim’s spouse, rape is always an act of domination, and the one being subordinated is rarely a man. In prisons the reality is different, but the principle is the same: the one being raped becomes the others’ ‘bitch’, and loses his masculinity.

Rape has been a tool of war since the early ages, and it is nowadays as powerful as ever. The war in Congo serves as the most recent and brutal example, but we don’t have to go back any more than 60 years before the issue comes unpleasantly close to us. Germany is full of fatherless people who were conceived by soldiers of the Allies, and after the Second World War many children were born in Russia with distinct Finnish features. The purpose is to crush the spine of the enemy by contaminating the women, and thus whole families.

Sex and violence appear to walk hand in hand conceptually as well. In a study by Deborah Cameron, which mapped nicknames for penis, it was discovered that the majority of the nicknames given by men referred to warriors or authority figures, beasts, or weaponry, such as The Hulk, King Kong, destroyer, or rifle. One of Cameron’s conclusions is that the results indicate men’s notion of the penis having uncontrollable ‘animal desires’, that ‘it has a life of its own’. As ridiculous as it sounds, the idea is supported by such high-status people as some court judges who perceive women’s choice of outfit as an extenuating circumstance in rape cases: the man sees flesh and loses all control; I came, I saw, I conquered! Considering that the majority of men are not rapists, it is them who should be more offended by this kind of statement.

The cure for the widespread disease – that of raping one’s own wife, girlfriend, or neighbour, is raising awareness of the extent of the phenomenon. The knowledge of not being alone is an immense help and an encouragement to come forward, and the more people step up, the more likely it is that the punishments become more severe. Perhaps it could be a central theme for our next president: “Finland takes lead in anti-rape programme”? Yet another thing in gender front for us Finns to be proud of.

Sub’s Christmas party once again had the great honor of hosting probably the most celebrated guest of the oh-so-festive Yuletide. Santa Claus had come to town, a month early I might add, and once again opened his gift-sack for the philologists in need. This year, however, it was time for him to pass the torch. Better Than Sliced Bread took the chance to exclusively interview Santa on the dark, but cozy, November night.

Santa has already graced the Sub Christmas Parties for twenty long years, but says that it has always been a pleasure and taking time off from his schedule has been easy. After the opening of the Nort Pole branch, the workload has been lighter and Korvatunturi’s never been too far away from Sub.

Despite the eternal demand for gifts, the global financial crisis has taken its toll on Santa’s business. Mrs. Claus has given him a hard time, as the elves are wont to go on strike and the elderly couple have had to do most of the shipping preparations by themselves this year. Luckily, North Pole is usually outside the turmoils of the financial world and Korvatunturi has so far shared Finland’s triple-A rating. Still anything can happen, Santa admits. For him, the euro is the better choice for the gift-giving business and he, unlike elderly elves V. Äyrynen and S. Oini, does not remember fondly the days of the Finnish Mark.

When asked for advice to the English students for years to come, Santa grows ponderous. After deliberation, he stresses the importance of consistency. Teachers should encourage early on the students’ choice between American and British English – to him this is as important a difference as that between Santa Claus and Father Christmas.

Santa will not elaborate on the subject of competitors, saying only that Santa’s the one who is fat and jolly. He has never personally met Father Christmas, but adds, on a quaintly philosophical note, that they both have their nativitanal niches to occupy.

On the subject of changes in human history, Santa has a lot to say. According to him, things have gone forward during his multi-millenial lifetime. He praises technological advancements, but admits that the pace can be challenging. Personally, he was appalled that the obituary comic of Steve Jobs at the gates of Heaven had St. Peter the first iPad even though number two had long before been available!

Businesswise, advances in technology have had an effect even on Korvatunturi. Elf work schedules and inventories are easier to manage, but the realities of today’s children have had their share of adding to Santa’s worries – according to him, their wishes are sometimes near impossible to fulfill.

Finally, BTSB asked if Santa had any last greetings for English students and Sub at the end of his awe-inspiring term. ”Sub will find somebody,” he says with a smirk and adds that the prospect of a woman Santa should be taken seriously. We come to the agreement that humanism, after all, is all about breaking boundaries. And who’d break more boundaries (of space and time, for instance) than dear old Santa Claus.

For Better Than Sliced Bread,
Esko Suoranta

“A Final Visit From Saint Nicholas”
Printed with Santa’s permission and wished by all BTSB not to ever become reality.

‘Twas the night before Christmas and one thing was clear
that old Yuletide spirit no longer was here
inflation was rising; the crime rate was tripling;
the euro in crisis; and our duties were crippling;

I opened a beer as I watched the TV,
with Calton and crew singing “Star Boys” off key;
the kids were in bed, getting sleep like they should;
or else they were stoned, which was almost as good.

While Ma with her ball-point was making a fuss
’bout folks we’d send cards to who’d sent none to us;
“Those ingrates,” she thundered, and pounded her fist;
“Next year you can bet they’ll be crossed off our list!”

When out in the yard came a deafening blare;
’twas our burglar alarm, and I hollered, “Who’s there?”
I turned on the searchlight, which lit up the night,
and, arned with my handgun, beheld a strange sight.

Some red-suited clown with a white beard immense
was caught in our eight foot electrified fence;
he called out, “I’m Santa! I bring you no malice!”
Said I, “if you’re Santa, I’m Telly Savalas!”

But, lo, as his presence grew clearer to me,
I saw in the glare that it just might be he!
I called off our doberman clawing his sleigh
and, frisking him twise, said, “I think he’s OK.”

I led him inside where he slumped in a chair,
and he poured out the following tale of dispair;
“On Christmas eves past I was jolly and chuckling,
but now ‘neath the pressures, I fear I am buckling.”

“You’ll note I’ve arrived with no reindeer this year,
and without them, my sleigh is much harder to steer;
although I would like to continue to use them,
the wildlife officials are convinced I abuse them.”

“To add to my woes, vehicle inspection dropped by
and told me my sleigh was unsafe in the sky;
I now must wear seatbelts, despite my objections,
and bring in the sleigh twice a year for inspections.”

“Last April my workers came forth with demands,
and I soon had a general strike on my hands;
I couldn’t afford to pay unionized elves,
so the missus and I did the work all ourselves.”

“And then, later on, came additional trouble –
an avalance left my fine workshop in rubble;
my no-risk insurance was worthless, because
they had shrewdly slipped in a ‘no avalance’ clause.”

“And after that came the taxman to audit;
the government claimed I was out to defraud it;
they finally nailed me for six hundred grand,
which I paid through the sale of my house an my land.”

“And yet I persist, though it gives me a scare
flying blind through the blanket of smog in the air:
not to mention the hunters who fill me with dread,
taking shots at my sleigh as I pass overhead.”

“My torn-up red suit, and these bruise and swellings,
I got fighting off muggers in multiple dwellings.
And if you should ask, why I’m glowing tonight,
it’s from flying too close to a nuclear site.”

He rose from his chair and he heaved a great sigh,
and I couldn’t help notice a tear in his eye;
“I’ve tried,” he declared, “to reverse each defeat,
but I fear that today I’ve become obsolete.”

He slumped out the door and returned to his sleigh,
and these last words he spoke as he went on his way;
“no longer can I do the job that’s required;
if anyone asks, just say, ‘Santa’s retired!’”

A slight growling in my stomach. It’s Saturday and we’re standing in front of an apartment building in Munkkisaari at 10.30am, wondering if something would happen. Then, it does: the head of a young man pops out of a second floor apartment. “Do you have a restaurant up there” I ask hesitantly. “Of course we do, come on in!”

We are the second customers of the day; the first is sitting in the hall enjoying his flambéed crêpes Suzette – we end up choosing the salty option: a crêpe stuffed with ham, bacon, lettuce, onion and mayonnaise. A hefty breakfast for a chilly morning, enjoyed in a cosy apartment with nice people and basically for free. What is going on?

This November, the Restaurant day was organized for the third time. What is remarkable is that the first national set-up-your-own-restaurant extravaganza was held only six months ago, which means the event is as good as rooted in our urban culture already. This time there were over 300 ‘restaurants’ to pick from, something for everyone all over the country. Sushi, sausages, desserts, barbeque, tapas, you name it. The amount was so overwhelming that my friend and I decided to make a list beforehand of the places we definitely wanted to visit. Hungry for some breakfast, we directed our course for Munkkisaari.

The ‘restaurant’ was called The Hefty Crêpe, and it had an actual (ex) cook preparing the dishes. They had only decided to sign up two days before and were not exactly sure what to expect. After all, in August, at the second Restaurant day, almost all places ran out of food. We, however, were well organized and would not be left hungry. Every place from breakfast until night snacks was written down in chronological order – those that served only breakfast or lunch to those who concentrated on late snacks and music. The only problem was that after the first visit there were still 13 places left – we started to doubt our eating capacity.

Fortunately, Restaurant day is not just about eating. It is a phenomenon that encapsulates a whole urban culture: snacks are served in art galleries; DJs are playing their music or choirs singing in the background. A drink enjoyed at a backyard sale, Wannabe Ballerinas handing out glögi and soup, eating dinner while watching performance art. The community spirit is at its highest at times like these – you feel like smiling at and greeting everyone you come across on the street. It is like a piece of sunny July day in the middle of November, all the woollen layers covering our faces coming off and revealing our smiles – what a wonderful city this is!

Now back to cuisine. After our mighty crêpes we concentrated on drinks: café au lait at a vintage shop (seasoned with a pair of sunglasses), hot chocolate served by moustached children straight out of a window, and an earl gray cupcake, which, technically, isn’t a drink, but nevertheless heavenly, at café Caneli. We lost ourselves for a bit in a girl’s wardrobe in Kallio, literally: she was leaving for Australia for a year and sold all her earthly belongings, some of it straight from her closet. Naturally there was also pie. I left with three pairs of shoes and a big smile.

As the night started to fall (at three-thirty in the afternoon, thank you November) we started to look for a bit of groove. We had the perfect solution: where else to look for a crazy party mood than in a Vappu-pop-up restaurant? Unfortunately, we had to face disappointment – this Vappu was extremely sombre. They should be punished for using the word for such a joyless event; even the balloons looked sad hanging on the walls.

We finished quickly our potato salads and doughnuts and headed for Wannabe Ballerinas’ glögi spot. On our way there we were suddenly pulled inside the parachutists’ headquarters in Töölö, who were holding a lottery at the time we came in. The mood was ridiculously cheerful, and it didn’t take us long to find out why. Everyone had brought their own flasks! This is because the authorities had announced they would inspect the pop-up restaurants this time, no one should be caught serving a drop of alcohol with the meals. You need a permission for it, see.

So what! It is also forbidden to serve food without permission – who is looking after the hygiene, Evira? It would be logical to think that the police would have something better to do on a Saturday evening in Helsinki than to chase people who are doing something worthwhile, such as serving strangers a nice glass of wine to go with their pasta. We did run into some rebels, though. In some places a shot of alcohol was called a ‘warmer’ for glögi, in others a bottle of sparkling wine, for example, was ‘just laying there’ on the table, and a coin could be left in an adjacent cup according to conscience. Hopefully bureaucracy will not come to stand in the way of evolving, lively urban culture.

Our final score was 11 places. We left the last one behind at 10pm, which was a classy underground recording studio in Katajanokka: funk and soul music and improvised food by Italian musicians. The whole day was an amazing rush of zest in the middle of the darkest time of the year, and it left me impatiently waiting for the next one (4 February, for the record). Let the imagination run wild and set up your own (I might myself)!

I’ve been here in Edinburgh for more than two months already and I feel like I can now really call this place my second home. I know my way around the main parts of the city and I’m beginning to have friends here as well. I mean, seriously, my social life is more than just people on Facebook and Fanni (also representing HY and SUB here in Edinburgh). I actually threw a party last Friday to celebrate my successful attempt in making salmari (it’s really yumsie, btw) and was pleasantly surprised at who showed up. Out of the guests, three quarters were people I know from the ISC (International Student Centre) and the others I’ve randomly met elsewhere. The ISC lounge has actually become my main domain for socialising. Whenever I go there, I always find someone I know who I can talk to or to play Bang! with. They also have free coffee and tea every day from 12noon to 4pm, which is nice! I have to admit that I maybe go there a bit too often… I may or may not have skipped a lecture or two or three playing board games and just socialising at the ISC lounge.

Of course I’ve done some studying here as well and I haven’t just been skipping lectures at the ISC. In fact, the best and most interesting course I’ve ever had is one I’m taking this semester, Scots and Scottish English. I actually jumped up and down for a while when I found out that the course was being offered this year, which might say something about my enthusiasm. But it’s not just the actual subject or the really good lecturer that makes the course a good one. Instead, what makes it even better is that there are actual living Scottish people on the course and the lecturer often makes a use of them to prove a point. This is exactly why taking a course in English linguistics is most useful where the language is actually spoken natively. I can’t imagine that a course concentrating on a particular variety of English would prove to be quite as interesting in Helsinki as the Scots and Scottish English course is. My other courses are also so much more interesting than anything I’ve had so far and I constantly find myself learning new things about the Scottish culture and the stereotypical things often linked to Scotland (e.g. kilts and tartan). One of the best things about being here is actually studying in the country I’m studying about. I can just step outside, or actually I don’t even have to step outside since I live with two Scottish girls, and take in everything this place has to offer.

I’ve seen quite a few new places since the last issue of BTSB came out. I went to London for the first time ever to see my aunt and her family, did a weekend trip to the Highlands and visited a whisky distillery. But even though I’ve seen many of the places I really wanted to see while I’m here, there is still so much I want to do. I still have to go to Ireland, Isle of Skye and take another trip to London. Paris is also tempting me as a possible spring break destination. I’m very glad I’m not here for one semester only, because to be frank, that would suck. First of all, my English isn’t good enough yet (even though it wasn’t that bad to begin with and it just keeps getting better and better all the time) and secondly, it would just feel stupid to leave when I’m finally having people to socialise with and stuff to do.

Even though I really love it here and, to be honest, wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, I’m starting to look forward to getting back to Helsinki for Christmas and already booked a flight which should get me to Helsinki on the 21st of December (unless Heathrow fails somewhere in the process). I can’t wait to squeeze my dog and see all my friends and family and to be able to get along by speaking Finnish. Meanwhile, I just have to keep Bang!ing in the backroom of the ISC with my new friends and continue making the most of being in Scotland.

The writer is a third-year English philology student with a minor in British and Irish studies. She will be spending the year 2011-12 as an exchange student at University of Edinburgh in Scotland. During her stay there she hopes to get better acquainted with the Scottish culture and learn to at least imitate the Scottish accent as well as make the most of the extraordinary scenery the country has to offer.

Travelling by tram has been one of the little joys in my everyday life. Even though I could catch one of the 105 buses that stop in front of my house, I usually end up waiting a bit longer for the tram just to get the experience. It has much of the same charm as the safari rides in amusement parks, one gets to marvel at the daily (wild)life of the people in Kallio and Hakaniemi, the most vibrant districts in town. However, lately the jolly safari rides have turned more into visits into the house of horrors: creatures jumping on my face screaming something or someone grabbing my arm and laughing furiously at my fright. The falling leaves have revealed something else besides bolding trees: horrible social ill-being. By this I mean the outcasts of society, the people that had made the park benches and children’s playgrounds their home during the summer months, but have now been forced to move out.

The nights get colder and these people who have lost their way in life need a place to warm up – and what could be easier than to jump on a tram? Usually just sitting near one of them is an experience in itself, the whole package for the senses: you see them (rather close at times), you hear them (rather loud at times), and you sure can smell them. Recovering from the first wave of inconvenience you might want to think about the person as a, well, person. In Riikka Pulkkinen’s novel Totta a girl plays a game with her grandfather always when travelling by tram. They pick a person from the crowd and start to make up a story about them. Sometimes the stories are happy, sometimes tragic and sad. In the case of the real world outcasts the stories are never happy, but it would nevertheless be important to picture them once in a while.

Take him: A bearded man in his 60s, has not showered for three weeks, the other sole of his shoes missing. He keeps his Gambina bottle in a paper bag, shouts random oddities to people passing him by, then starts to doze off in the steady rumble of the tram. Pisses himself. Nevertheless, he is a father, and a grandfather. He ran a thriving business in the 80s, lived in a row house in Käpylä, was married to a blonde bank officer who gave birth to his two children. They were the living image of a happy family, if you ignore the affair the man was having with his secretary and the antidepressants the wife was secretly consuming. But they were on track, inside the magical sphere of acceptance in society. Until came the depression. First went the business, then came the booze, then went the wife, then came the DUI, then went the house, then came the new friends. Half of them are dead now, from alcohol or drugs, some of them jumped under a train. This man is now putting all his might into getting up from the damp place under the bridge in the morning, yet he would rather stay there and wither away if it were not for the inescapable need to get the morning drink. Suddenly, you do not feel disgusted by him anymore, you feel sorry for him.

There are other, less visible examples of the growing gap between the rich and the poor everywhere along the tram route alone. A quite startling one is the bread line in Helsinginkatu, where Veikko Hursti foundation is handing out clothes and food twice a week for people in need. For a people who wants to forbid begging (in public) it must be a terrible shame to queue for bread and milk, but what other options are there? Most of them are regular pensioners who try to fill their stomachs from day to day. A society that does not take care of its elders, can you really call it a welfare society? The same fate awaits us in a few decades; although with the way the politicians are now going we might never get to ‘enjoy’ our retirement days. Our minister of finance Jutta Urpilainen is blindly keeping hold of her promise to the voters about not raising the retirement age. She will rather leave the time bomb ticking than add few more minutes to it. What do you say, should we take her for tram ride?

Teeny tiny phrase book:
Sitsit = An academic dinner party, where we sing, drink and enjoy each other’s company. You get to dress up really nicely and meet other students.
Afterparty = If you didn’t get a chance to sign up for the actual sitsit, you can always come to the after party where there’s dancing, drinking, etc.
“Mellansup!” = when someone shouts “Mellansup!” in the middle of a song, it means that you stop the song for a quick sip and then continue singing.
“Lisää tempoa!” = up the tempo (we want that booze, goddamn). Some songs are reeeeally loooong.
“Punishment!” = in some department parties, you get a punishment for breaking rules. SUB doesn’t traditionally use these.
Ryyppy = a shot of alcohol

The usual sitsi-program:
Coctail hour
Seating
First song
First course (something light, like soup or salad)
More songs
Toiletbreak (use it well!) when you can purchase more drinking from the bar
Main course
Songs!
Second break
Dessert
Songs
The Last Song
Do:
…go and see BTSB articles about suiting up for dummies and style with little money and see below for dress codes!
…start getting ready in time. Nothing is more annoying than having five minutes to shower, iron your shirt/dress and so on.
…get ready to be hangoverish: prepare yourself mentally to skip the class next morning, be sure to get some snacks and soda.
…be there in time, the cocktail hour is perfect for checking out where you’re seated and chitchat.
…pour wine and water to your fellow tablemates
…be polite!
…introduce yourself, don’t be shy, there’s no need to. You don’t have to remember the song lyrics or the toasting system.
…remember that there are always older students you can ask questions if something is puzzling you
…sing along, don’t worry if you don’t know how.
…have fun!
…make sure that you get home safely, usually sitsit are on weekday nights so check your schedules or take some taxi money with you
…remember to thank the sitsi hosts and your tablemates for your lovely evening
Don’t:
…panic about dates, you don’t need one for our occasions.
…get (way) too drunk. The sitsi hosts don’t really care for cleaning vomits.
…get (way) too drunk and have a truly memorable sitsi speech: You might not remember it, but others will and that’s a promise. (BTSB staff has had some first hand experience about this so we know what we’re talking about!)
…freak out about drinking, many students in SUB don’t drink alcohol and have equally fun at Sitsit.
…speak when someone is suggesting a song or during a song
…mourn if your song already got suggested, there’ll be other sitsit
…speak before a song starts
…stand up before the break if you’re not suggesting a song. This means that you’re not supposed to leave your table before the break.

BUT if there’s an emergency, run to the nearest toilet. And remember gals, a lady never vomits under the table, an evening purse is much more suitable for this.
Other things:

• Usually in the beginning, the sitsi senseis introduce themselves and let you know about the rules of the evening.
• Toasting: The proper way to toast is to raise your glass at eye level, then ladies nod first to left, then to the right and then forward. Gentlemen nod first to right, then left, then forward. After this you take the sip, raise your glass slightly one more time and then put it down. Remember eye contact all the time.
• Sitsit usually starts with the song “Helan går”, in the end of which you’re supposed to drink, well, bottoms up. But here’s a little tip for those of us who get tipsy quite easily: Just take a sip, seriously.
• Suggesting a song: you stand up, introduce yourself in English (“Hi I’m Kaisa!”) and then suggest a song. Say the song number clearly (indicated in the songbook). You don’t necessary need to start the song yourself.

 

Dress codes:
SUB is fairly uninhibited when it comes to dress codes. Traditionally in bigger student organizations, for example, Vuosijuhlat is very formal, some even require black tie dressing. But remember, it’s a dinner party after all and you should honor the event with decent manners and clothing.
Below, I’ve explained the most common dress codes used in our sitsit:
Smart casual (most common) = Quite loosely defined, casual but neat. For men this could mean dress trousers, long-sleeved dress shirt, v-neck sweaters, optional tie and a jacket, but it could also mean clean, neat jeans with dress jackets and a cool T-shirt. I’ve often noticed that men prefer to wear the whole suit thing together and it’s also perfectly fine. Don’t wear just t-shirts and sneakers.
For women smart casual in our sitsit usually means a coctail dress or a skirt. You can also wear trousers and a neat top. You can do pretty much anything with your hair: we’ve witnessed everything from Mohawks to sparkly chignons!
Formal = actually divided to white tie and black tie categories, but we SUBbers are quite tolerant with this one. Usually we have a formal dress code for the Vuosijuhlat/Anniversary party.
For men this traditionally means a proper suit, white dress shirt and a tie. Shoes must be polished and black.
For women this traditionally means a long skirt (if you attended Vanhat in your high school, that dress should do just fine!) and an updo or curls for your hair.
About breaking the dress codes: Yeah, most of us do remember Paleface’s white Adidas Superstars with the tuxedo in last years Linnanjuhlat, but come on, that dude could really pull it off! All I’m saying is that dress codes are simply guidelines and you don’t need to get stressed because of them, but still, they’re there for a reason. Dress codes are usually given from the party organizers because they want to help you not to over or under dress for the occasion and feel bad about that.
So when breaking the codes, do it with style!
Kaisa and the rest of the BTSB staff would like you to have awesome sitsi times!
Kaisa Leino BTSB, illustrations by Johanna Ruuskanen
Ps.
http://www.betterthanslicedbread.info/life/suiting-up-for-dummies-like-me/
http://www.betterthanslicedbread.info/life/looking-glam-looking-fab-but-with-what-money/
http://www.betterthanslicedbread.info/humor/the-gentlemans-guide-to-table-party-etiquette/

Dear Diary, did the start of Uni turn me into an alcoholic?

I’ll start off with a quick recap of the orientation week (the next couple sentences are quite effective cliffnotes of the whole story): I was drunk. Everyone else around me was drunk. I met cool new people. Then I woke up on a Sunday morning in Espoo after two hours of sleep with a taste in my mouth that somehow reminded me of crap. I had a blast.

9.9 around 8.30 am: I just woke up and somehow I realized life is good. Sweet. Back to sleep.
9.9. 11.10 am: I just realized I’m broke and I probably can’t afford my appartment for much longer. In addition, the chicken fillets I bought have gone bad and they cost something like a fifth of my whole budget. I also have a couple hundred worth of bills waiting on my desk. Sweet. Wish I could sleep some more
9.9. 12.01 pm: Why the hell is my bus always late? Bus 23 has been late every single time I’ve ever taken it to go to school except for that one time when it was two minutes early and I missed it. Why do they make schedules they cannot follow?

10.9. 10.25 am: We are off to Tallinn. I probably slept 2 hours last night but I feel like today’s gonna be totally awesome. Or horrible. Either way.
10.9. 10.31 am: We just got free candy and booze on the boat, so life seems a bit brighter than usual right now.
10.9. 3.02 pm: Oh God. We actually made it. After enjoying a (rather romantic) Royal Indian Dinner together with Joel for 50euros (I just love the taste of expensive when I have 21 cents in my bank account) we realized we were in a serious hurry. The girls got us a cab to take us to Superalco, and half an hour later we were (or the others were, actually) over 500 euros poorer and swetting all over the place, trying to complete a half-marathon while carrying a truckload of alcohol each. We made it to the boat merely 15 minutes late and with some flirtatious begging from the girls they actually let us on board. Hoorah!
10.9. 4.43 pm: The boat just arrived over ten minutes late, thanks to our awesome group. After we had poured a quarter of the drinks all over the terminal and a cider-can sprayed half of its contents all over some poor, innocent woman, we finally got the drinks into a car. We then decided to let the elderly students take care of the rest and sat down in a nearby park to have a tasting of some cheap, Estonian fruitliquers. Life was good, until the rain started. Oh well.

14.9. 9.57 am: I just missed my bus and I’m sitting in the rain, hoping to get to the most boring lecture of all time before I miss out on anything important. Gotta love translation studies. Anyway, I ”forgot” to write about our awesome Freshmen Party on Monday so I’ll get to it now. I spent three hours sitting in the rain under a tree. My overalls are muddy and my new shoes are probably ruined for good. A couple of freshmen from the last groups of the evening told me I wasn’t exactly acting like the nicest guy in the world when they arrived at our checkpoint, to put it nicely. Hmm, I wonder why. Well, atleast I had a friend with me to share the fun! Anyway, I managed to get adequately hammered in the end, thanks to all the free drinks sponsored by our lovely freshmen. I also got free candy, hugs and even a kiss (from a guy, of course), so again, life was good. The afterparty was where the real fun started, it’s just too bad I kind of missed the first hour or two completely, being too wasted to actually register what was happening around me. Thus I also missed most of the rather homoerotic plays of the freshmen, but I’ve been told they were amazing. After the first couple of hours I experienced a resurrection and finally unleashed myself on the dancefloor. Epic, swetty dancing and a great bunch of people made it a night to remember. By the way, the awesome lecture I mentioned earlier just started.

15.9. morning: Wow. It was pretty interesting to wake up at around 7.30am to see there’s a guy standing behind my window holding a large roll of orange duct tape. I live on the fourth floor and he was yelling at someone beneath him that my window is open. I was waiting for him to jump inside to murder me with the duct tape and carry out my precious, decades old TV, and I was pretty sure I would wake up from my dream pretty soon. Well, he didn’t jump inside. Weird. He just duct taped my window shut and disappeared upwards, towards the heaven, like an angel. When I left for school at around 9.50am I noticed the guy was still there, so it really wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t actually flying in the air. I guess they were doing some kind of facade repair.

28.9. 2011 2.43 pm: Wow. It’s been a while. I wasn’t capable of writing anything during the weekend, but I’m going to give a recap of everything I can remember. First of all, Friday the 23rd it was time for yet another awesome Freshmen party, this time arranged by Humanisticum. Things took a turn for the worst immediately when I arrived at our check-point with a friend: no one else was there and the weather was once again horrible. I had thought there would be atleast 20 SUB-members and other students from the department of Modern Languages alike, but it was just the two of us and I really just wanted to turn around and run. Well, after a wait that felt like years we finally got some company and the first freshmen showed up as well. We were a handful of people and we set up a course mimicing the end of the Second World War, where the Allied forces of the West and the Soviet forces of the East were racing towards Berlin, rope skipping and trash bag hopping through the land. After taking over Berlin the two forces joined together in a moment of artistic expression, and we saw some interesting plays and heard some rather unique songs. The shows included a play about the forces of The Great Kerava taking over the rest of the world with nothing but knives, alcohol and ferocious kicking as their weapons. We also saw an amazing, perhaps a little lower budget version of the Eurovision song contest. After the shows the freshmen were free to bribe us with candy and alcohol, and thankfully many did exactly that. Like always, the best part of the evening was without a doubt the afterparty. I, once again, managed to get quite hammered and actually gained a reputation as a kangaroo-hunter from the land down under. I also met a girl who spoke English with a perfect Arnold Schwarzenegger accent, and she actually remembered all the famous quotes as well. Awesome times. Meeting new people from different majors and different departments of the faculty was a blast, and actually quite refreshing, as most of the parties I attend are usually filled with people I already know (even though I obviously love you guys).

Since this is already pretty tl;dr I won’t write anything more. Hopefully atleast one of you managed to read this ramble. Have an awesome autumn!

I can’t believe it’s already almost been a month. I arrived in Edinburgh on a fine Monday evening in the beginning of September. I spent the first week living in a hostel and mainly looking around in amazement (and shopping for necessities). The beautiful city of Edinburgh has made me clumsy in a way I never was in Helsinki, mostly due to the fact that I have started to look around me when I’m walking rather than looking at my feet. The other reason has to do with the fact that the old town of Edinburgh (where the university and all the important action is) was built in a time way before cars and these guys seriously still don’t (know how to?) asphalt the streets. As a result, I’m stumbling through every day and I’ve almost managed to ruin all my shoes. Damn those cobbles… Everything is so different here. Currency (I don’t have to convert the prices in my head anymore, yay!), accents (on a scale from 1 to 10, some people I’ve met have been 8, as in very hard to understand, and most people are somewhere around 4, so that I still have to concentrate in order to understand them), people from all over the world (I don’t think I’ve ever met this many people from so many different places! Edinburgh University is full of Americans and Asians, btw.), the culture, everything.

Especially the student culture here is quite different from what we have at home. Edinburgh University relies on students doing a lot of reading on the own (the fact that the Main Library is open until 2.30am daily does kind of hint to that direction). Most courses have three 50-minute mass lectures every week and on top of that a tutorial every week or every second week. (A tutorial being a compulsory smaller group discussion thingy usually led by a different lecturer than the one giving the mass lectures.) Because most courses are worth 10 credits, students are encouraged to not have more than three courses per semester. My weekly schedule of nine 50-minute lectures and one tutorial per week isn’t all that bad (less than it probably would be back in Helsinki). It actually leaves me a lot of time to enjoy my time abroad and to socialise (mostly at the International Student Centre with other international students) and to have hobbies (I decided not to stop horseback riding even though I’m abroad and I also joined a choir) and such.

The extra-curricular student culture is very active and vibrant in Edinburgh. There are hundreds of societies that more or less actively organise events for the students. Out of the huge range of societies, I chose Edinburgh University Equestrian Club, Edinburgh University Harry Potter Society, Linguistics and English Language Society, and Female Voice Choir. The jury is still out on the Water of Life whiskey appreciation society… Meanwhile, I am perfectly happy to enjoy cheap Guinness (from £2 to £4, compared to the 6-7€ back in Finland). Speaking of which, the university’s equivalent to HYY, Edinburgh University Students’ Association (EUSA), actually has a whole building of fully licensed bars as well as a couple more around campus. Those bars have no age-limits, but they give out wristbands for those of us who are allowed to drink legally. This is particularly convenient for the freshmen, because people start university straight from high school, which means that some of them have not yet turned 18. One of my flatmates (I live with three other girls in University Accommodation, about ten minutes from where my lectures are and three minutes from the Centre for Sport and Exercise, which is nice) is actually in this situation and it makes me feel so old. I’m used to being the youngest everywhere, but here I’ve so far been one of the oldies. I actually met a 24-year-old English girl doing her doctorate the other day and I instantly started panicking about what I’m going to with my life. I sure as hell won’t be doing my doctorate at 24, that’s for sure.

So, apart from the age crisis, and trying to adjust to the independent studying, and struggling to understand what people are saying, and still having a lot to learn (which is why all my courses have something to do with Scotland, hehe) and the fact that I’ve only been to a handful of places around here (went to see Loch Lomond a week ago and going to Stirling in a couple of days from writing this), I know this is the right place for me and I really love it here. Everything is good in the United Kingdom. Even the sun is shining! At least for now.

The writer is a third-year English philology student with a minor in British and Irish studies. She will be spending the year 2011-12 as an exchange student at University of Edinburgh in Scotland. During her stay there she hopes to get better acquainted with the Scottish culture and learn to at least imitate the Scottish accent as well as make the most of the extraordinary scenery the country has to offer.

Better Than Sliced Bread conducted an interview with team representative and star striker Mika Niemi after an impressive 2-2 tie against MopSi in Töölö last Wednesday.

Mika, what’s your preliminary analysis on the day’s game? What gives?
- The decisive factor was certainly the lack of firepower! There were balls bouncing off the posts and the crossbar, but only two goals a side.

How do you see the strengths and weaknesses of the assembled team?
- I’d see it as our biggest strength that we’re so bored of the tragic plays of Shakespeare that we leave the diving film star aspect of the game to our opponents. For us it’s the attitude that counts. The weakness of the team must be the sudden realization at half time that some exercise might do us good!

What can we expect from Englannin maajoukkue for the rest of the season?
- When it comes to Englannin maajoukkue, everything is possible. You might  get a glimpse of the SUB president running after the ball like never before. You might see students no matter how old blending together. And if you’re in the team, you might even see us naked in the shower after the match, wow!

The white game outfit is rather nondescript – as team fashionista Miksu Tenhunen will certainly confirm. When is it time to design and get new jerseys?
- The white resembles our pure souls. Clean as a dove! No changes needed.

Can you inform new readers on the past success of Englannin maajoukkue?
- Past success? We once got a corner kick at the end of a match! Seriously, two years back we finished third in the indoor football league.

How about a word on the players present today?
- Today it was very pleasant to see two freshmen, Petteri and Lucas, joining our squad. I encourage everyone to do the same!

Thank you very much Mr. Niemi and both congrats and better luck for the next game.

Esko Suoranta for BTSB Sports

The main goal of this guide is to ease a little bit of that heavy burden of stress that our new batch of freshmen are carrying on their shoulders. I’m writing this thing mainly because I feel like I have to: I think I’m somewhat indebted to SUB and the whole community of English Philology for making my own freshman year the best year of my life. So believe me, I’ve definitely been there and done that. Also keep in mind that I’m probably the most pessimistic little troll you ever come across, so none of this praise is sugarcoated at all.

Don’t stress yourself to death and Don’t hesitate to ask for help
The single most important piece of advice anyone can give you. If you need help, just ask for it and you will get it. If you didn’t take a course you were supposed to take or you drop your fork in Unicafe, it’s not the end of the world. You have a hell of a student community around you, ready to help you with anything you need, and also a bunch of great teachers and other university staff to provide you with any information your fellow students can’t.

Do give the weird new people around you a chance
During the first meeting of our tutor group, people were exchanging awkward looks in a tiny classroom and almost everyone was thinking something along the lines of ”oh God, I’m surrounded by jerks”. Well, don’t let first impressions fool you. Try to get to know the new people around you, as they might end up being your best friends after the first week of partying. That’s what happened to me, atleast. Another thing to remember is that the scary, older students of the department are actually really easy to approach and getting to know them is really worth the effort. The only thing separating a freshman from a third year student is their sense of humour, as it takes about a month or two for every new student to develop their sense of humour to a whole new level of quirkyness.

Do have the courage to take part in as much activities as you simply can

The best part of being a student is being able to partake in a truckload of awesome activities.
Some of the activities might sound like weird or lame, but trust me, with the right attitude and a bunch of awesome people around you, you will have a blast every single time. Don’t stay home just because you don’t know anyone or because you have a lecture in the morning. Everyone else has once been through what you are going through now, and everyone else has attended a lecture with a hangover in the morning aswell. If you don’t want to be out late because you live outside of Helsinki and have to take a train or something, do not worry. Without a shadow of a doubt I can promise you will find a fellow student ready to offer you a sofa, a mattress or a bed to sleep in.

Don’t worry about having too much spare time
This might sound funny at first, but when I was a freshman, several people including myself were worried because we had so few lectures and so much spare time. It made me feel like I should have taken more courses, but midway through the courses I realized there’s actually quite a bit of work to be done at home and studying for several exams at the same time isn’t exactly a walk in the park. Take the courses you are adviced to get, if you feel like it’s nothing after the first period, take something else. Whatever you do, do not drive yourself to exhaustion and remember to take time off every once in a while to join an epic student party.

Don’t drink yourself to death
Well, this is an obvious one. Even though the parties are great, the people around you are awesome and the booze might taste good, don’t overdo it. If you happen to pass out somewhere, people will take care of you and even clean up after you have puked all over the dancefloor. But the thing is, there’s a pretty high chance you will have someone reminding you about the vomit and the passing out the next day or perhaps even the next week. So please, for your own good, whenever you’re drunk, try to act like the adult your parents tell their friends you are. Also keep in mind that you are by no means encouraged to drink alcohol at all: my friend is a teetotaler, and she seems to be having the best time out of us all every time we’re out to party.

Do take advantage of the libraries and Unicafes around the campus
These should be nobrainers, but to many, they are not. First of all, the libraries obviously provide great material for writing essays and secondly, you might even get a course book from them every once in a while. Use them. You can reserve books online and they will send you an email when the book you reserved is ready for you. Easy and simple.

The Unicafe is one of the most overlooked benefits of being a student. For only 2,50 you can get a decent, healthy meal every day of the week. There are Unicafes spread all around the campus, and you can check online for their daily changing menus to see where you would like to eat.

HOWEVER:
Don’t act like an idiot in the library or in a Unicafe
This is a major problem for many freshmen especially. I’m just going to list things you should hopefully realize yourself you should or should not do in a library or in a unicafe:

Do shut up in the library. Don’t reserve books you don’t need. Do take your books back when you are supposed to: it’s really annoying when you are supposed to read for an exam and some jackass forgot to return the single copy of the book you want. Do remember that you will have to pay 1 € per reserved book, and you will receive a penalty up to 10 euros when you don’t return your books in time.

Don’t waste other people’s time in the Unicafe; therefore don’t butter your bread in the queue or start counting your change at the cash register. Don’t start going through your massive new purse at the cash register to find your wallet. Do think ahead and also keep in mind that extra servings of food actually cost money.

Too long, I know, but I still hope some of you had the endurance to read it all the way through. May your freshman year be even a bigger blast than mine was, and remember, whatever you do in life, never butter that bread in the queue.

The end is nigh, as they say. A week from when this issue of BTSB comes out I take my leave for Edinburgh. I’m still having trouble to actually picture myself living in Edinburgh with only a handful of people I know and sharing a flat with three complete strangers. I am lucky to have found two of my three future flat mates on Facebook, though, but the total number of my acquaintances in Edinburgh is still to just five persons. The thought is a scary one. I have always had many friends and I like to socialise with people, so the first few weeks (or months, even) might be lonelier than what I am used to. But thank goodness for the Internet and phones, I will not be completely cut off from friends and family. Skype even allows me to have a video chat with my dog!

The end of something is always the start of something different. Always looking at the bright side of things, this next year is going to be awesome. I am going to move to a place I’ve only once visited before (that was for about three hours six years ago), but already love. I get to improve my spoken English, live with native English speakers (at least two of my new flat mates are Scottish, which is incredibly cool!) and study things I’ve been interested in for almost as long as I can remember. Also, I do know three other Finns from Edinburgh so I won’t be completely alone and I’m going to continue at least one of my hobbies once I get settled.

I admit I have high expectations of the exchange. Of course, I know anything can happen and I might end up hating everything related to Scotland. Still, spending time abroad is something I’ve always wanted to do and now I finally have a perfect chance to do that. And the university even pays me for doing it!

In a nutshell, a week from moving, I’m excited, scared shitless, and panicking. Promising, eh?

The writer is a third-year English philology student with a minor in British and Irish studies. She will be spending the year 2011-12 as an exchange student at University of Edinburgh in Scotland. During her stay there she hopes to get better acquainted with the Scottish culture and learn to at least imitate the Scottish accent as well as make the most of the extraordinary scenery the country has to offer.

(Note: Includes some serious charity marketing, clichés and almost naïve goodwill. The opinions in this text are by yours truly, they don’t necessary represent any organization’s viewpoints.)

I’m writing this during the summer vacation season and most of us have the privilege to just hang out in parks and enjoy the time of the year. Still my head is full of dark thoughts. Why? For two reasons, first being that my holiday is already over and secondly because at the same time, far away from my desk, every minute, a child dies because of starvation.

I am currently employed by UNICEF Finland and because of my work I’m seeing the consequences of natural catastrophes and conflicts every month. Usually my colleagues’ workdays and mine are quite normal, but sometimes when your e-mail Inbox fills with news about catastrophes, conflicts, or for example statistics about women’s body mutilations you cannot help but feel strongly hopeless and lost. Does our work make a difference if we can’t help all the children of the world, I’m just waste of space, why am I not in Somalia digging water wells right now?

Despite these feelings, this article is about hope and helping.

Because no matter how terrible forces ramble through developing countries, and how many children die every day, there’s still one force bigger than all this. It builds school from pieces of fabrics, it injects the life-saving vaccine to babies’ arms and helps a child from not dying because of diarrhoea or starvation. It makes me go to work and keeps me sane and not becoming cynical.

The force called hope.

You must have read about the disastrous crisis of Eastern Africa by now. A month ago there was a leading article in Helsingin Sanomat about this, written by the operator of UNICEF Afghanistan. You have heard the news, read the statistics and so on. Now, there are only three options what you could have done.

1. You haven’t seen the news. If this is the case, please go to unicef.fi and read more about the crisis. Then come back here.
2. You’ve donated some money to some organization that helps the people in East Africa. Congrats! You’ve done a great deed! You can jump to the end of this article or keep reading and feel good about yourself.
3. You haven’t done anything – you may not even feel anything.

I dedicate this article to you people in option number 3. First of all, I think it’s not your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong; in fact you haven’t done anything at all. What may be the reason for you not helping other people through organizations such as UNICEF is, of course, your personal business. However in my work I’ve faced many reasons for this and I would like to use my expertise to open them up here, and make you donate. I refuse to think that people are not helping because of lack of good will, we just need a little more hope and perspective.
The steps of helping

1. Recognize the need. First of all, find out a little bit of the need of help. Who are the people you want to help and what’s the best way of helping them. UNICEF is a massive organization that helps children no matter what their heritage, religion, political background or ethnicity. We believe that when we help children, we create a better future.
2. Face the facts. Here are some important ones:
• You can help and every euro does count. You can buy 6 vaccines against measles with one euro. Now tell me that one euro isn’t enough.
• People do need help and the world is changing. Check out this statistic: http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/44114000/gif/_44114068_child_mortality_416_3.gif
• It doesn’t matter why you want to help. Imagine this scenario: an old lady wishes to be walked across the crosswalk and she cannot do it on her own. You go there and help the lady only because you wish your halo to shine brighter. You’re being selfish and your helping isn’t “real”. BUT. It doesn’t matter, the lady is across the street. She’s happy, you’re happy; it’s a win-win situation. The same goes with charity work. It doesn’t matter that being a monthly donator makes you feel incredibly relieved or happy. That’s just a bonus, you’re helping people in need and you’re feeling good.
• When you donate through big organizations, your help goes where it’s supposed to go. From every euro UNICEF Finland gets, we donate almost 80 cents to the target (http://www.unicef.fi/tietoa-taloudesta). Don’t let yourself be fooled, you deserve to know the percents of your donation that actually reach the targets. Ask direct questions form the organizations and demand clear answers.
3. Recognize the will to help. Well this is quite self-explanatory.
4. Don’t let yourself down. With all the news full of despair, it’s easier to put your head in a hole like an ostrich. No one can help all the dying children and that’s just a fact. I’ve often had conversations with people saying, “Well, if you can’t help everybody, what’s the point? Besides the world’s population is too big as it is, so we shouldn’t save their lives.” Now, there are three truly wrong points here.
• First of all, the moral behind this argument is bluntly “let them all die, it’s good for us” and I’m sure we can all agree it’s not good.
• Secondly, it has been proved by scientists that when we help children to survive in poor countries, we make the child mortality rates decrease and thus make the birthrates lower. To put it shortly, parents can have only three children when they can trust that their children will survive. So in fact, saving babies’ lives helps the overpopulation problem too.
• Thirdly, you don’t have to save everybody. Let’s use another example: there’s a fire inside a house and there are ten people inside. You can get only one person out and save him/her. It’s of course a terrible tragic that nine people got killed by the fire, but it doesn’t make that one person’s saved life any less valuable. If you could only help one, you would, wouldn’t you? Plus it’s great in UNICEF’s aid programs that we’re helping as many children as possible at the same time. Most of the help we’re giving is specialist help, which means that we help and give the tools to the local people to educate and protect their children
5. Find out how. For many organizations you can donate through the Internet. Or waltz to your nearest face-to-face person and ask how you can help through monthly donation programs.
6. Do it! Feel good about yourself, you’ve helped. And keep helping.

Why me? Because you can and you have hope.

(Not yet inspired? Check out these links and find out more:
http://www.unicef.fi/
http://www.unicef.org/
Academic Hans Rosling on global population growth:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fTznEIZRkLg&feature=relmfu)