There's only a moment

The wind of change is blowing straight into my face and it's difficult to say right now whether I like this expected yet unexpected breeze or not. But one thing is sure: since I wrote that semi-political outburst of mine a lot has happened.

One of the most notable events was the visit of my American comrade. Along with many other things his company made me re-evaluate my habitat i.e. Helsinki and Finland in general or, as we together concluded, to see things from outside the box. And indeed when I was returning home from Katajanokka harbour (with my ears full of Oregon music and my spirit rather down) the face of my home city seemed friendlier than ever before.

Tomorrow there's a celebration in my family due to my father getting his degree in Information Technology. So, one more well-educated person in our family!.. which brings me to my own B.A. degree: according to our university's intranet I've finally made it and will be receiving my diploma on Tuesday - same day I'm boarding the train bound for Moscow.

Yesterday, just before I left for Kauhajoki, I shook a hand of a friend thus confirming our deal of him becoming my subtenant and starting to move in immediately. This means that even if I'm staying in Helsinki for a short while before the departure - I'll be staying more as a guest (in my own home) than an actual dweller. The good side of the matter is that I'm more or less ready for the departure (packed my stuff already, yes!) and excited to leave and that the last moments I'll spend in Finland should be dedicated solely for enjoying myself with friends: the eve of my departure I'll be spending, hopefully, with my very best friends. So even if I'm feeling slightly melancholic right now I have nothing but pleasant things ahead!

And one more thing - usually before going into the world outside our Nordic Shire I spend some time with my parents in my native home (like now) and thus I get the feeling that the Road always begins from here - from this house's doorstep. There are several good farewell songs in the world but this one I'm going to share with you has no match (techinically it's not a farewell song but for me it is). Here you have both the translation and a link to the original version of that song:

There's only a moment

Everything in this storming world is a mirage
There is only this moment - you should hold on to it.
There is only a moment between the past and the present
And that moment is called life.

Everlasting peace would scarcely please one's heart,
Everlasting peace is meant only for the grey pyramids.
But for a shooting star that is falling and burning
There is only a moment, this one blinding moment.

Let this world run through the centuries,
But the ways of this world are not always my ways.
What do I hold dear, with what do I risk in this world?
With only a moment - with only this moment.

There's happiness and sorrow on the path of life,
But there nothing more but a moment - you should hold on to it.
There is only a moment between the past and the present
And that moment is called life.

Yours in high spirits,

- Stefan

PS. Here's link to the aforementioned song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQ-hnn1UASQ

Consistency! Going cheap. Anyone?

My preliminary plan for this blog was to stay out of politics for as long as I can. I’m sorry to say that this decision didn’t last for long. So, with all due respect, here we go:

Lately the world around me seems to change extremely rapidly. And for the first time I feel that I’m not really keeping track of where it’s going. This might be due to the fact that for the first time I do not really care to keep track. Let me give you a more informative example:

Only a few weeks ago a relatively minor Nationalist party became the third most largest party in Finland. Similar phenomenon has happened in many other European countries so far and immediately I found solace in the fact that in free market representative democracy with its insignificant games and larks within its bureaucratic system (what many folly people call the legislative power) things seldom change drastically. And so far nothing has changed. Not in the system it hasn’t. And at this point in time it seems that nothing will change.

But a certain change can unambiguously be seen in the people around me: many a people have now, as they themselves so modestly put it, very critical approach towards immigration. Most of them suggest that migrating to Finland should become more restricted. I was surprised (to say the least!) to find one of these people in my most inner circle of friends.

In due course of this passed week and a half (since I got back from St. Petersburg) I’ve been three times congratulated due to my “excellent knowledge of Finnish”. Usually I wouldn’t even mind this well wishing ‘cause I’m already accustomed to these congratulations (for some odd reason Finns seem to think that a person with a non-Finnish or non-Swedish surname must be an immigrant with a modest knowledge of Finnish at best). I’m used to face them every once in a while but never quite so often.

After doing rather small amount of research and hearing rather large amount of opinions from those fellows who’s job it is to take first hand care of this immigration business (in the Ministry for Foreign affairs of Finland) I’ve come to the conclusion that permanent migration to Finland is already limited to say the least. And even if anyone would like to alter the current status quo he’d have to demand an immediate separation of Finland from both the Schengen treaty and the European Union. Who’s for? Hmm… surprisingly quiet I dare say.

After twiddling these thoughts for a week now in my head I’ve done also an other conclusion: I’m glad to leave Finland behind. It seems to get along fine with or without me so it might as well subsist without. Any people that treat me as an outsider just because I have divergent surname or because I speak a language they don’t, do not interest me. Therefore I’m heading towards those people that, by my own experience, treat me differently. Therefore I’m going to Russia.

Unfortunately there are still three more weeks to go before I can take the train to Moscow. But fortunately I’ll have reunion of old friends soon in my home town and an American comrade of mine is visiting me soon enough. So luckily I have something to go by whilst here, in the ever condensing monotony of Finland.

Stefan

PS. I’ve done it. Well, sort of. My very first step on this road of wonder. This road I’ve chosen to follow for the next year or so: I’ve packed some books and all my notes from these last three years into a cardboard box. The space where all my work and all my efforts now fit seems rather compact. And all it consists of is no more than paper and ink. I find this bit sad.

I am off to St. Pete's. Cheerio!

 
And so it seems that the fates are treating me very well still. My spring semester is almost done (Bulgarian exam was today and there are no more exams to come) and Easter is at the door (Христос Воскресе!). Even the weather is now better and I've finally grown used to the abnormal amount of sunlight out there.. in the wilderness (aka Finland).

It also seems that this year I'll see all the three biggest cities of Europe (I wanted to write "biggest European cities" but then again some of my Finnish friends might disagree with me about how European e.g. Moscow really is): Moscow, London and St. Petersburg. I've developed some kind of a relationship with all these three cities but St. Petersburg is definitely a sui generis. It is the Northern Venice, Hero-City, Fourth Rome, Northern Capital and so much more. It is also the place where both my grandparents and my own parents met and started their families. It's the city where I spent the two first years of my life. In short: it's my second home.

Recently I found this great and quite new song dedicated to St. Petersburg I would like to share with you. Of course it's in Russian but no worries I'll try to translate it for you guys:

First the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXRGGHn9bnA

Then the original lyrics:  

ПИТЕР

Он дышал, как река подо льдом,
Он молчал, как следы на песке,
На камнях, под холодным дождём,
Он темнел, как дыра на виске,

Он смотрел на замёрзший залив,
Он людьми одевал берега,
Наблюдал, как в плену перспектив,
Подыхая, кричала тайга…

Через три сотни лет носит дым
Скифской вазою вещую тень.
Я бреду по больным мостовым
Белой ночью - оборотень.

Мимо павших и бывших живых,
Замурованных в склепы дворов,
У распятых в подъездах волхвов
Я шепчу языками немых.

Разбивались глаза о проспект,
В коммуналках тонули тела,
Неопознанный сбили объект -
Я живой, да в чём мать родила.

Не рубите на хлев корабли,
Не торгуйте крестами на вес,
Эти камни грешней всей земли,
Это небо больней всех небес…

Разорви тело мое,
Собери веру на час,
У зари разгони воронье,
Сохрани этот город для нас.

Then the translation:

ST. PETE'S

He breathed like a river under the icy cover.
He was silent as the traces on the sand.
On the rocks, under a cold rain,
He darkened as the hole on a temple.

He looked at the frozen Gulf,
He dressed the shores with people,
He watched the scenery as if it was imprisoned,
Tayga yelled and died away...

Three hundred years later the smoke brings,
A prophetic shadow on a Scythian vase.
I roam on the diseased streets,
In the white night - a werewolf.

Past the fallen and the former living,
Immured in the vaults of the backyards,
We crucified the sorcerers in the doorways,
I whisper in the language of the mutes.

The eyes were broken on the avenue,
In the communes bodies were drowning,
The unidentified object was shot down -
I'm alive but as naked as the day I was born.

Do not built ships for bread,
Do not sale crosses by weight,
These stones have done more sin than any other in the whole world,
This sky is sicker than any other...

Break my body to pieces,
Gather your faith for an hour,
At dawn disperse the crows,
Preserve this city for us.

Now, tell me what you made of it?

Yours in high spirits and on the road,

Stefan

Баллада о Лондоне (or few humorous reflections of my own)

Принял я решение подать документы по обмену в Лондон.

«Слушай паренёк! Навряд ли так получится» ответил мне он.

А я говорю: «Отвечали мне так и раньше. И вывод ясен – я не туп!»                

Такой ответ по **** мне. Я ведь млад пока. И значить – глуп.

Прихожу я им неделю спустя. Спрашиваю: Как делишки мои, ребята?

Отвечает: «Хотим и мы как лучше, но получается же, как всегда, иногда-то!»

Я не сдался. Уточнил: «Вы что этим имеете ввиду, господин?»

Отвечает: «Ответа ждём. Тут и очередь получилось. Боюсь ты не один.»

Ждал я ответа ещё недельку две. И уснул я, бедняк, думая: «ответа всё же – нет.»

Проснулся, выпил кваса и гляжу я на экран. Вроде ничего не видя. А вдруг: ответ!

Пишут: Поздравляем! Ведь тебе повезло: проведёте следующий год в Лондоне!

Значить еду я за гордон. Сначала попарюсь в Москве, а потом остыну в тумане.

- С. Смирнов

Ballad of the Londoner

Evening falls on the smoky walls,
    And the railings drip with rain,
And I will cross the old river
    To see my girl again.

The great and solemn-gliding tram,
    Love's still-mysterious car,
Has many a light of gold and white,
    And a single dark red star.

I know a garden in a street
    Which no one ever knew;
I know a rose beyond the Thames,
    Where flowers are pale and few.

- James Elroy Flecker

Ballaadi Iris Stormista

Sateisin, synkin illoin
unelmissani nään
Lontoon - ja Iris Stormin
ruskean pojanpään.

Mayfair Streetin ja lyhdyt
loistoautojen,
yöklubin himmeät valot,
aamun sumuisen.

Kalkitun sairaalahuoneen,
kasvot valkeat,
eetterin pistävän lemun,
pimeät ikkunat.

Nummen kostean hiekan,
välkkyvän Hispanon,
hopeavasama sinkoo
suoraan aurinkoon.

Viimeisen, viimeisen kuvan
hautaani asti vien,
yön näen hiilimustan,
kylmän, pimeän tien,

valtavat valokeilat
lävitse pimeän,
hopeahaikaran huudon
kuulen kimeän.

Räjähdys villi - liekit
kasteesta märkä maa -
pudonnut vihreä hattu -
jotakin valkeaa.

- Mika Waltari