get low

The length of the day here in Helsinki takes some getting used to. It only really feels like its starting to get dark around 11 at night, and the only time it's really dark is around midnight. By three AM, the sky is already getting light again. So in a way, its very nice- the extended dusk and sunset means that it stretches out time that can be spent outdoors. Saori and I took a walk a few nights ago after 10, and it was still very light out, just wandering around the peninsula that she lives on. It's past 10:30 here, and there's still direct light on most of the building across the plaza.

On the flip side, I'm very sensitive to light when I'm sleeping, so Saori lent me her sleeping mask and I pretty much have to use it if I want to sleep.

Saori's roommates have both left, so Saori and I have the place to ourselves. Well, and the ancient, half-blind cat.

There is something very understated about Helsinki, which I understand is a characteristic of Finnish culture and national character. It wasn't until yesterday afternoon, when we went to the cafe on top of the 12 story tall Toroni tower that I realized how low-rise the city of Helsinki really is. When you think about it, 12 stories in a capital city is nothing. My apartment in Buenos Aires was taller than this tower. However, the convention of the city keeps almost every building at or below six stories. There is something really nice about this as you get a lot of light and sky- it makes for a much more open feeling street level. At the same time, there is also a pretty high density since the buildings take up everything they can up to that six story height limit.  It contributes to this feeling of quaintness to Helsinki, like a pre-elevator city.

From my limited stays in Oslo and Stockholm over five years ago, Helsinki strikes me as the most laid back and least cosmopolitan of those scandinavian cities. Its character is hard to define-  There's the beaux arts and neoclassical architecture in the faded pastel hues of Tsarist Russia as well as a tendency towards the rustic and rough hewn granite. But the atmosphere is more bucolic and nearly provincial- its much cleaner, much more friendly, and much less tense than St.Petersburg. The lowness of the city and the way the people here interact with the city and the outdoors kind of reminds me of downtown Salt Lake City, although at much higher density. Pretty much the entire city is between four and six stories.

 Lots of public space. Plazas abound for a city that is covered with snow and ice most of the year. On a sunny day like today, Finlanders flocked to the sidewalk cafes and lounged at the outdoor tables in a Parisian style. Actually, they're pretty much everywhere outside- in the parks, on benches, on monuments, on the steps of the churches... When I last passed through Scandinavia, hurting from the high VAT, especially as a backpacker, I saw people everywhere lounging out of doors on those summery days. I immediatly jumped to the conclusion that the Scamdinavians, as I called them back then, were living the good life in welfare states, lounging off the of tax dollars of visitors. Actually, they are hard workers who genuinely care for workmanship, and who can blame them for wanting to enjoy the limited sunshine and summer that they get?