First time in St.Petersburg

We were not even supposed to visit St.Petersburg this year, but circumstances brought us there. We were thinking of returning from Petrozavodsk by the same bus that took us there, but the seats were fully booked. So the great Karelian round trip happened, and we dragged our bones to the only Metropolis in this region.
The visit was definitely worthwhile.

I am crazy about Karelia, and in my geopolitical imagination, the rest of Russia still remains under persistent clouds. In the 70s my parents took a tourist trip to Leningrad and brought a balalaika, some nice porcelain, matryoskha dolls etc. When the Soviet Union collapsed, it was not popular in my circle of friends to travel across the border at all. There didn't seem to be a reason. I only visited Tallinn for the first time in 2005. After that, there have been too many cruises. And now, in 2009, St. Petersburg. Now I'm already dreaming about the next trip. This time, I hardly saw anything. I would give it a week at least.

Getting train tickets from Petrozavodsk to St.Petersburg was not so easy at last minute. There are only two-three trains between the cities in a day, and they are often fully booked in the summer months. We got second class tickets on a night train from Murmansk to St.Petersburg. Upon entering the train, I wished I had been travelling to Murmansk instead. Or Archangelsk.

Surprisingly, the second class ticket included dinner, tea service and a package of travel necessities, like slippers, soap, toothbrush and paste, shoe polish etc. Tea was served in old-fashioned chai glasses from a samovar. (I want these at home. Iittala has pretty ones, called Tsaikka. Very Russian style, but they're bloody expensive.) First, it seemed that the kids might not fall asleep at all, as the train was shaking quite robustly. I could not recognize the places on the way, apart from Lotinanpelto. Throughout the trip I was carrying a heavy Karelia guidebook by Markus Lehtipuu. The attitude of the book was annoying, but it helped me recognize some sites around Petrozavodsk. Next time, I will take with me some books published by SKS (Finnish Literature Association). I wonder if we rode through the cradle of Vepsä culture? In the darkness of the night, one could not see much. I think I slept for 3 hours, too.

We were in St. Peterburg with all our things at 5 AM, and our hostel room would not be available before noon. Some breakfast was had in several cafés. Bookshops also opened early. Luckily, the hostel was so conveniently located (just behind the Hermitage) that we could visit all key sights by foot. I particularly liked the Kazan Cathedral, which used to be the museum for atheism in the Soviet times. It looked like people popped in the cathedral in their lunch breaks just to kiss their special icon.

Nevski Prospekt can be overwhelming for the provincial mind. I was suprised to discover how white it was. One did see Russian Asian faces, some Chinese and Japanese tourists, but just once in two days did I see an African man with a Russian woman holding hands. In other words, our everyday reality in Tampere is far more multicultural - and ordinary - than in the Metropolis.

The kids were overjoyed to have dinner at Kentucky Fried Chicken. I have now been to KFC in Jamaica, Iceland and Russia, and I must say I liked the Russian KFC best. I saw some extremely hip young people there, with haircuts that we can't dream about in Finland. This particular phenomenon of globalization has not yet arrived to Finland. I was also looking for Starbucks, but couldn't find it yet.

An evening boat cruise on the Neva was magical. The second day went almost totally to queuing in the Hermitage. I enjoyed visiting a supermarket close to Finland station more than Hermitage, because it was the only occasion in the two days to see ordinary city-dwellers. I became a fan of Alyenka chocolates, with a baby-babushka face printed in every wrapper. Russian candies have a triple amount of sugar if compared to Finnish ones.

In the train back to Finland, one sees Terijoki, the intense place of Finnish cultural imagination. The place where everyone who was something summered in the 1930s. I want to see Edith Södergran's villa, Raivola. Maybe also Ina and Tito Colliander's Villa Golicke. That's a totally different Karelia from the woods around Petrozavodsk. Nowadays, the filthy rich of St. Petersburg have built their mansions there.

On the waves of Onega

Our second trip to Russia was short, only five days, but eventful nevertheless. We perhaps covered some 1500-2000 kilometres, using different forms of transport, crossing the border at two points.
The border crossing in the Finnish train is not a big deal anymore, but is quite a dramatic performance when crossing by bus or private car. We took a Russian bus and were the only foreigners there; therefore the driver forgot to give us the landing cards, and we created a wonderful jam in Värtsilä-Niirala.
If compared to the northern border crossing point, Vartius, the atmosphere in Värtsilä-Niirala was more relaxed. Two years ago in Vartius we were watching with awe how truck covers were being pierced by huge metal spikes, in order to make sure there were not any illegal immigrants hiding there. Also in Vartius there was a stronger military presence on the Russian side.
The sights from the bus window from the border to Petrozavodsk are breathtaking. One begins to understand better the wartime evacuees' longing, when seeing the landscapes they lost. From the former Finnish side we perhaps saw some villages close to Sortavala or Salmi, and from the parts that were always Russian we saw the region of Prääsä. The regions around Petrozavodsk are called Aunuksen Karjala. In addition to Viena (up north), Aunus Karelia is the area in which there have been recent efforts to revive the Karelian language. Closer to the Finnish border, the languages have already been lost, as most of the speakers moved to Finland during WW2.
In Petrozavodsk, we stayed with friends and socialized. The city's public transport system is interesting: as the tramways and buses are not enough to cover the growing need, there are supplementary microbuses taking people to places. I don't think I could have made sense of the system without the help of Russian-speaking friends. There were no maps, timetables or info desks in sight. The most crammed ride was to the friends' dacha outside the city. The weather was so superb that half of the city was on the move.
I dipped my toes in lake Onega! There is a wartime Finnish song "On the Waves of Onega", which claims the Eastern Karelia as Finnish possession. Finland occupied Petrozavodsk in 1941 and kept the Russian population of the city in concentration camps for three years. The city was renamed as Äänislinna. It's difficult to relate to that history. Luckily, Petrozavodsk is not "colonized" by Finnish companies in the same way as for instance Tallinn is. If one wants to escape some aspects of the late capitalist consumerism in Finland, Russian Karelia is the closest destination for tourists seeking alternatives. There are clubs, pubs and cafés in Petrozavodsk, perhaps exceeding the expectations of the provincial Finn, but the urge to do shopping just doesn't happen. That's a great relief.
Petrozavodsk's suburbs may look scary from the outset. The buildings are mainly 1970s Soviet concrete, some unnecessarily massive, considering that there is enough wilderness around the city to expand it as far as one wishes. If there was more money to paint and renovate, the suburbs would not differ dramatically from Finnish suburbs. I found the everyday life (at least during daytime) however more peaceful in suburban Petrozavodsk than in suburban Tampere. Heavy alcoholism surely is a fact in both places, but in Petrozavodsk the drinkers kept more to themselves. On this Russian trip (if compared to the first one in Viena), there were no incidents with strangers. In Vienan Karjala, there were more Finnish tourists in groups, whose economic potential had been discovered. Likewise, every time one goes to Tampere city centre, there is an incident with a stranger (local or foreigner) wanting something from you. In Petrozavodsk, and also in St.Petersburg, we could breathe more freely in the urban space. That was a pleasant surprise!
Not forgetting, my lungs felt the freshness of air in the centre of Petrozavodsk. Superb freshness, even in the hot late summer weather. Maybe it was the magic of lake Onega.
This time, I had no time to explore the history of Finns in Petrozavodsk, but next time I will follow the footsteps of the Finnish and Finnish-Canadian Reds. The best book I've read about the city was by Finnish-Canadian Mayme Sevander, "They Took My Father". Heavy reading, but realistic and wise. Sevander writes about the changing decades, also about the opening of relations with Europe and America during glasnost.
I do not know Russian Karelian authors living and working there. Arvi Perttu (born there, now living in Finland) has an interesting blog, Maahanmuuttaja ja muita rooleja, which has many entries about Petrozavodsk. I'd be thrilled to know more especially about the literary scene in the city.
PS: Will try to post a second entry on St. Petersburg.

Magick eastern lights

I am departing to Russia for the first time in my life within the next 10 hours. It's amazing that I've been to 20+ countries but never to Finland's largest neighbour. Our destination is Viena Karelia, close to the Finnish border up north-east from where I live. The place where Kalevala was collected and the bardic lands that many young Lord of the Rings fans dream of visiting...

It's going to be yet lighter there in the evenings than here and there will be more mosquitoes. People live there in the midst of nature and are much dependent on the waterways and forest. I am excited about showing my spoiled kids a place without burger joints, high street chain stores, or broadband internet connections in each and every home. No pizza-kebab places run by immigrants either, no tofu sausages, no feminist conferences, nor anti-racist action weeks. Chances are that I'll be the most puzzled family member, not the kids.

Russia is very much part of our everyday life nowadays; in the streets of Tampere it is ten times more likely to hear Russian spoken than our second native tongue, Swedish. I don't speak any Russian although I've had good possibilities to listen to it for many years now in my everyday life. I wonder what's happening with my language learning capacity: what once seemed to just pour in nowadays needs intensive courses and extensive home-stays with native people. (In Viena Karelia the older generations still speak their own language, which is very close to Finnish. The younger generations speak mainly Russian, due to Soviet ethno-linguistic policies. I am expecting a lot of code-switching and pleasant confusion with words...)

The bags are packed with not practical enough clothing (we basically own city clothes only), presents for our host families, toilet rolls, water flasks, a medicine cabinet and mosquito spray. I don't have enough space in my bags for rubber boots for three, and the weather reports promise heavy rain for the coming week. The roads in Viena Karelia are going to be muddy to the extremes I might not yet have seen. If this happens, we're going to be positive about our new methods of body art. Some pics might follow. Keep tuned.

Vienan valkeat valaat

Hiio-hoi, joku ihana jossain lukee näitä sivuja! Sen kunniaksi kerron uusia kuulumisia. Viimeaikaisen Turkki-buumini lisäksi minua on purrut omituinen Karjala-kärpänen. Se alkoi latentisti jo viime kesänä, kun satuin lukemaan Eeva-Kaarina Arosen romaanin (2005, Teos, Helsinki) Maria Renforsin totuus, "ajoista, jolloin kosket jylisivät vapaina." Upea romaani naisesta, joka uskalsi rikkoa rajoja, ja perhokalastuksesta, jonka aistillisuutta en ollut koskaan aiemmin ymmärtänyt lainkaan...

Olen tyttö, joka koko kriittisen kasvuikänsä kasvoi länteen päin. Siksi viime kesänä, ennen Ahosen romaaniin tutustumista, Vienan Karjala ei sanonut minulle paljoa. Olin kuullut lähinnä Kostamuksen 80-luvun rakennusprojektista. Ahosen johdattelemana päädyin kuhmolaisen Juminkeko-säätiön webbisivuille, jossa aukeni uusi ulottuvuus itään: Vienan Karjalan runokylät.

Innostuin Karjalasta uudelleen keväällä, kun tutustuin Tampereella tilapäisesti asustavaan petroskoilaiseen tutkijakollegaan. Hän kutsui minut "Petrozavodskiin" ja minulla kesti pari päivää selvittää, mistä kaupungista oikeastaan oli kyse. Kuvitteellinen kaupunki Karjalassa? Kun lopulta ymmärsin, mistä oli kyse, meille kaikille tutusta Petroskoista, innostuin kovasti paikasta ja sen hengestä. Tampereen kokoinen kaupunki Äänisen rannalla, jossa on vahva vaihtoehtokulttuurinen skene. Taiteilijoita, kirjailijoita, runoilijoita, paljon uutta ja ihmeellistä, johon en ollut koskaan ehtinyt tutustua...

Kutsuin itseni Petroskoihin kylään lähiaikoina. Katselin ja kuulostelin, kyselin Venäjää paremmin tuntevilta ystäviltäni vinkkejä. Matkustaminen sinne omavaraisesti Pietarin kautta tuntui vaivalloiselta kahden lapsen kanssa. Ajattelin, että se voisi olla itsenäinen projektini ensi syksynä. Sen sijaan muistelin viime kesän kuvitteellisia matkojani Vienaan ja päätin, sinne matkustaisimme tulevana kesänä...

Ja nyt, olemme tosiaan lähdössä. Ensi kuussa, Jyskyjärvelle, Kalevaalaan, Paanajärvelle...

Runosuoni tukossa tämän takia. Kerrankin positiivisesti. Minun ei tarvitse kirjoittaa runoja, koska Viena elää minussa, kaikki sen kuut, kaikki kulkukissat ja kalmismaat.

Ehkä syksyllä myös Petroskoihin Faces-festivaaleille?

Kaverit, ilmoittautukaa messiin, jos vielä mahtuu...

www.vienankarjala.net
www.juminkeko.fi