Ephemera Europa I

I've realized lately, why I write a blog. It's a way I have to rake my hands through the passing sands of time, to gauge and really feel their flow. It's a way to record time and feel its passage in a meaningful way. When I write, I have to remember what I have seen and done, and somewhere in my head it really happens again. Memories are not like watching a movie of a past event, they are the reliving of that past event in a very real but intangible way. When I write, I remember, I reflect, and reconstruct. But it also distorts. Since words are definite, the way I recall my memories and write them, changes them, since the power of language and words alters the thing itself. The more firmly you grasp a memory, the more distorted it becomes, hewing more closely to the words you pick and the structure and tone you use. Even the frame of mind of recalling a memory colors it. But, I'd rather have a distorted memory than a purer one which fades away with time.

That said, I wish I blogged more on the road in Europe. At this point, now all I have are moments, stories of varying degrees of truth.

Hmmm my most memorable moments from Europe:

I met Saori for the first time in six months in front of the train station in Helsinki. It was the famous one, designed by the elder Saarinen, with its neo-gothic statues holding globes of light. The outdoor bus terminal was in the adjoining plaza, which is where I was dropped off after a short ride in from the airport. I'd been listening to Agnes Obel and watching the forest of birch trees go by in the twilight hours of the summer in the far north of our planet. It doesn't really get dark until about midnight. I'd called her as soon as I'd gotten on the bus, to let her know I was on my way in. The plaza was filled with people. Surprisingly bustling, even at 10 o'clock at night. And really, why not? The light was good, the weather mild, and it was, after all, in the heart of Helsinki. With my oversized backpack, I looked around for her, and finally spotted her coming out of the train station. We had agreed to meet at the main entry; well, there are actually three main entries to the train station, so it took her some time to find the one I was at. I wasn't sure how I'd feel. I was worried it would be weird to spend time with her again, after so long apart. To my relief, it wasn't. We were both different people, but only slightly different, and we both happily slipped into our old roles together. Holding hands, we walked out of the plaza to a nearby bar where she bought me my first drink in Helsinki, a Karhu III olut, a local beer. The bar was outside, in a sort of large covered pavilion. The colored neon lights tinted the wooden table and benches yellow, red, and blue. It was a heady moment, I had my whole trip ahead of me, with Saori, nearly three weeks of adventure, and a week and a half to have Saori show me around Helsinki. There is something magical and breathless about the moment you really arrive, with the whole trip in front of you, waiting.

The next day, we were eating at Cafe Ursula, an expensive but great cafe which sat on the far end of one of the main peninsulas of the city, in a beautiful park overlooking the Baltic sea. It stood by itself, a small but elegant building, with a massive shade sail providing cover to the outdoor tables. It was a brilliant summer day, and we enjoyed traditional Finnish fare such as salmon on rye bread. The gulls kept trying to get at our food, but the crisp air tinted by the nearby sea, the sun, and the greenery all around made me really happy to be there at that particular moment.