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Jan. 16th, 2019 10:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unikorentoFive days of missed prompts! This is going to get long. Behold! Cuts!
I didn't have a prompt for day 12, but I'll use it as an opportunity to write a more general entry. So! The Folklandia folk music festival was a lot of fun. It's held every year, in January, on a cruise ship. (Ok, on a ferry. It's a ferry masquerading as a cruise ship.) Ordinarily, I hate these ships. It's the cheapest mode of travel in Finland, and people go on them for “booze cruises”. You party on a boat, get off the boat for a few hours to buy boxes of cheap liquor from Estonia, and then party your way back. *Gag.* I'm also a giant hypocrite for being this high and mighty about it because I've absolutely gone on those cruises myself in my 20's. They were awful back then too.
Folklandia isn't like that, however. The whole ship is sold out only for festival-goers, and nobody gets off the ship at any point. The halls fill up with people singing and playing instruments, and any larger area is taken over by dancers. It creates an odd sort of micro-cosmos. There are people there who are into traditional Nordic folk, people who want to play blues or bluegrass, people who are into “world music”, people who want to experiment with traditional sounds, and then people who want to dance and listen. And kanteles. So many kanteles.
I saw a Jewish wedding band from Sweden, a metal band that consisted of two guys with drums and one guy with a bagpipe (!), an Irish folk band that only sang in Finnish, a band that re-interpreted 80's pop music into folk songs, and a band that got all of its lyrics by harvesting tweets or online forum entries about various issues. (The explanation doesn't do it justice. It was pure genius.) The ship mixes people from the most rural, conservative parts of Finland with well-meaning hippies, and everyone bonds over how excited they are about ... string instruments, I guess? .
What would you eat, if you could eat one thing forever? /machinistm
I've had the same answer to this since I was eight years old. One day I might consider updating it to sound less childish, but in my heart I know it's true: meatballs & sauce with mashed potatoes and a side of cucumber & tomato, or grated carrot. I need to make the meatballs myself, though. None of that store-bought stuff.
That, or vegetarian lasagna..
Talk about Finnish traditions/food/typical whatever. /falena
This was broad, so I decided to narrow it down to one specific tradition: Finnish Independence Day, because it's a weird occasion and a good time.
So, the Cliffs notes version of why/what we celebrate:
Finland gained its independence from Russia in 1917. This was a fairly bloodless business at the time, because Russia was still very much trying to figure out life after the October Revolution. Marxism was very big everywhere at the time, and it was believed by Lenin and others that Finland would sort itself out (i.e decide it wanted to be communist too) and then re-join willingly.
(Finland did indeed try to sort itself out. We fought a civil war which turned into a business so unspeakably ugly that, as a nation, we just never ever talk about it. Ever. Especially not to foreigners.)
Finland stayed independent, and in 1939 fought back an invasion from the Soviet Union, lead by Stalin. In our narrative, this is what we consider the actual war for independence. The thing is, though, that there wasn't really any winning involved. At least not in the “waving banners, whooping at the backs fleeing enemies” sense.
The Soviet forces retreated because trying to invade was getting costly, and Stalin was focusing his war effort on other parts of the world. The story doesn't really end there, but I'm trying to get to the point, so we'll leave it at that for now. Finland just held its own, lost many lives, survived, and that's what the celebration is about at its core.
Me getting to the actual point:
We don't shoot fireworks, there is no party. We do things like visit graves, remember the fallen, listen to the president's independence day speech, watch a version of The Unknown Soldier (an excellent novel, btw!), dress in somber colours and (and this is where it gets out of hand) watch the President shake hands with strangers for two hours.
The president hosts an independence day reception. All veterans are invited, all members of parliament, all ministers, all diplomats, and all Finnish citizens who have in some way done good things, or made the country a better place during the course of the year.
So, if you're an athlete who did well in an international competition, you get invited. If you launched a business that took off well, you get invited. If you're a YouTube star who has become culturally relevant, you get invited.
It amounts to a lot of people, and the President and his/her partner will stand at the door and shake the hand of every single one of them and say “happy independence day”. That's it. It's a near-silent procession, and the whole thing is broadcast on live television every year.
The hooplah around it is comparable to the Oscars (albeit at a much smaller scale, of course). There is a pre-party studio where journalists interview various fashion experts (we'll get to it, wait) or other culturally knowledgeable people about what we'll likely see at the party.
In our homes, we invite friends over who arrive while the pre-studio plays in the background. We pour up some wine, wish each other happy independence day, maybe eat (Finns eat dinner at 17, just go with it), and laugh about how we're doing this again. Then we settle on the couch/floor/wherever there is space and watch the procession.
The people who get invited know that the whole nation is watching them live. They're nervous. They really don't want to trip on their hem (someone always does). They're dressed to the nines. They overdo it. We whoop and cheer on our couch. “I love her hair!”, “Oh, that is not a good colour, no way.” “Why did he get an invite? Boo!” “I voted for her!” “I want that dress!” We ask our kids what outfits they like and agree vehemently with their analyses.
This year, a woman wore a dress coloured with red cabbage. (Her husband launched this calendar that would help people shop vegetables while they were in season.) One journalist wore a dress made of newspapers (to protest the spread of misinformation?). We were all shocked and extremely pleased, as is appropriate.
After the procession, there is dancing. The presidential palace isn't really all that big, and when filled with people it's about as spacious as the London Underground, but people do their best. There is a band. (This year it was the band I mentioned above, who collect their lyrics from the internet. They sang a song about the nation's twitter response to the fact that the President's wife was pregnant. It was hilarious.)
Journalists walk amongst the guests and ask dumbass questions like “what does independence mean to you?” We, in the audience, ignore this section entirely unless someone we find personally interesting is interviewed. (When they are, we still miss it because we can't make anyone else shush long enough to hear what is being said.) We eat dessert, drink wine, and enjoy ourselves until bedtime. That's it.
[There are people who traditionally use the independence day hooplah to protest various issues. Often, it's been people who lean hard to the left and don't appreciate tax money being used for this sort of thing. Lately, it's been the alt-right. It made people nervous, but their protest was largely ignored. Instead, there were dozens of interviews with the Helsinki police chief where he was being asked if everything is proceeding calmly, and he assured the cameras that it was. We worry about things being orderly, you see.]
To prove I'm not kidding: One of the most read articles of this year on Yle (our BBC) was this piece about how the First Lady's independence day dress is going to be made out of birchwood fibre. .
Favourite thing to wear /corvidology
Leggings and a tunic! But I wear that fairly seldom, to be honest. When push comes to shove, I'm not at all confident in my own body, so for work or situations where I have to act “like a real adult,” I'll reach for jeans and top & cardigan combo. Can't go wrong there!
I did it! Four in one! That took most of evening. I still wanted to write an entry about a tabletop game I had the other day, but that will have to wait, along with entry 16. Funny, how filling a box with text can make you feel accomplished, but it does!
I didn't have a prompt for day 12, but I'll use it as an opportunity to write a more general entry. So! The Folklandia folk music festival was a lot of fun. It's held every year, in January, on a cruise ship. (Ok, on a ferry. It's a ferry masquerading as a cruise ship.) Ordinarily, I hate these ships. It's the cheapest mode of travel in Finland, and people go on them for “booze cruises”. You party on a boat, get off the boat for a few hours to buy boxes of cheap liquor from Estonia, and then party your way back. *Gag.* I'm also a giant hypocrite for being this high and mighty about it because I've absolutely gone on those cruises myself in my 20's. They were awful back then too.
Folklandia isn't like that, however. The whole ship is sold out only for festival-goers, and nobody gets off the ship at any point. The halls fill up with people singing and playing instruments, and any larger area is taken over by dancers. It creates an odd sort of micro-cosmos. There are people there who are into traditional Nordic folk, people who want to play blues or bluegrass, people who are into “world music”, people who want to experiment with traditional sounds, and then people who want to dance and listen. And kanteles. So many kanteles.
I saw a Jewish wedding band from Sweden, a metal band that consisted of two guys with drums and one guy with a bagpipe (!), an Irish folk band that only sang in Finnish, a band that re-interpreted 80's pop music into folk songs, and a band that got all of its lyrics by harvesting tweets or online forum entries about various issues. (The explanation doesn't do it justice. It was pure genius.) The ship mixes people from the most rural, conservative parts of Finland with well-meaning hippies, and everyone bonds over how excited they are about ... string instruments, I guess? .
What would you eat, if you could eat one thing forever? /
machinistm I've had the same answer to this since I was eight years old. One day I might consider updating it to sound less childish, but in my heart I know it's true: meatballs & sauce with mashed potatoes and a side of cucumber & tomato, or grated carrot. I need to make the meatballs myself, though. None of that store-bought stuff.
That, or vegetarian lasagna..
Talk about Finnish traditions/food/typical whatever. /
falenaThis was broad, so I decided to narrow it down to one specific tradition: Finnish Independence Day, because it's a weird occasion and a good time.
So, the Cliffs notes version of why/what we celebrate:
Finland gained its independence from Russia in 1917. This was a fairly bloodless business at the time, because Russia was still very much trying to figure out life after the October Revolution. Marxism was very big everywhere at the time, and it was believed by Lenin and others that Finland would sort itself out (i.e decide it wanted to be communist too) and then re-join willingly.
(Finland did indeed try to sort itself out. We fought a civil war which turned into a business so unspeakably ugly that, as a nation, we just never ever talk about it. Ever. Especially not to foreigners.)
Finland stayed independent, and in 1939 fought back an invasion from the Soviet Union, lead by Stalin. In our narrative, this is what we consider the actual war for independence. The thing is, though, that there wasn't really any winning involved. At least not in the “waving banners, whooping at the backs fleeing enemies” sense.
The Soviet forces retreated because trying to invade was getting costly, and Stalin was focusing his war effort on other parts of the world. The story doesn't really end there, but I'm trying to get to the point, so we'll leave it at that for now. Finland just held its own, lost many lives, survived, and that's what the celebration is about at its core.
Me getting to the actual point:
We don't shoot fireworks, there is no party. We do things like visit graves, remember the fallen, listen to the president's independence day speech, watch a version of The Unknown Soldier (an excellent novel, btw!), dress in somber colours and (and this is where it gets out of hand) watch the President shake hands with strangers for two hours.
The president hosts an independence day reception. All veterans are invited, all members of parliament, all ministers, all diplomats, and all Finnish citizens who have in some way done good things, or made the country a better place during the course of the year.
So, if you're an athlete who did well in an international competition, you get invited. If you launched a business that took off well, you get invited. If you're a YouTube star who has become culturally relevant, you get invited.
It amounts to a lot of people, and the President and his/her partner will stand at the door and shake the hand of every single one of them and say “happy independence day”. That's it. It's a near-silent procession, and the whole thing is broadcast on live television every year.
The hooplah around it is comparable to the Oscars (albeit at a much smaller scale, of course). There is a pre-party studio where journalists interview various fashion experts (we'll get to it, wait) or other culturally knowledgeable people about what we'll likely see at the party.
In our homes, we invite friends over who arrive while the pre-studio plays in the background. We pour up some wine, wish each other happy independence day, maybe eat (Finns eat dinner at 17, just go with it), and laugh about how we're doing this again. Then we settle on the couch/floor/wherever there is space and watch the procession.
The people who get invited know that the whole nation is watching them live. They're nervous. They really don't want to trip on their hem (someone always does). They're dressed to the nines. They overdo it. We whoop and cheer on our couch. “I love her hair!”, “Oh, that is not a good colour, no way.” “Why did he get an invite? Boo!” “I voted for her!” “I want that dress!” We ask our kids what outfits they like and agree vehemently with their analyses.
This year, a woman wore a dress coloured with red cabbage. (Her husband launched this calendar that would help people shop vegetables while they were in season.) One journalist wore a dress made of newspapers (to protest the spread of misinformation?). We were all shocked and extremely pleased, as is appropriate.
After the procession, there is dancing. The presidential palace isn't really all that big, and when filled with people it's about as spacious as the London Underground, but people do their best. There is a band. (This year it was the band I mentioned above, who collect their lyrics from the internet. They sang a song about the nation's twitter response to the fact that the President's wife was pregnant. It was hilarious.)
Journalists walk amongst the guests and ask dumbass questions like “what does independence mean to you?” We, in the audience, ignore this section entirely unless someone we find personally interesting is interviewed. (When they are, we still miss it because we can't make anyone else shush long enough to hear what is being said.) We eat dessert, drink wine, and enjoy ourselves until bedtime. That's it.
[There are people who traditionally use the independence day hooplah to protest various issues. Often, it's been people who lean hard to the left and don't appreciate tax money being used for this sort of thing. Lately, it's been the alt-right. It made people nervous, but their protest was largely ignored. Instead, there were dozens of interviews with the Helsinki police chief where he was being asked if everything is proceeding calmly, and he assured the cameras that it was. We worry about things being orderly, you see.]
To prove I'm not kidding: One of the most read articles of this year on Yle (our BBC) was this piece about how the First Lady's independence day dress is going to be made out of birchwood fibre. .
Favourite thing to wear /
corvidologyLeggings and a tunic! But I wear that fairly seldom, to be honest. When push comes to shove, I'm not at all confident in my own body, so for work or situations where I have to act “like a real adult,” I'll reach for jeans and top & cardigan combo. Can't go wrong there!
I did it! Four in one! That took most of evening. I still wanted to write an entry about a tabletop game I had the other day, but that will have to wait, along with entry 16. Funny, how filling a box with text can make you feel accomplished, but it does!
