Kiukku

Kiukku is a word I learned on my work placement. It means anger (my dictionary actually says "crossness"). Anyway, it's a pretty useful word at the moment since it more or less describes my feelings at being back at language school. I didn't learn the Finnish for waste of time though, and that would have been even more useful just now.

About 8 weeks ago I was told that my work placement was going to be at a nursery school. Before it started there we were two weeks of lessons about Finnish work life. They were unbearable. I was given the choice to go back to the normal lessons just before I went and I was on the verge of doing it before deciding on a "get it over and done with policy" and, well, getting it over and done with. The idea of working in a nursery school was not one that I contemplated with any kind of relish. I was pretty sure that I would not like it and the thought of trying to corral 5 year olds who wouldn't understand me filled me with terror.

I arrived on day one determined to keep an open mind. Sure, it was probably going to be pretty awful but it was only 7 weeks and starting the work practise expecting horrors was probably the best way of making sure that it happened. As long as there was some kind of improvement in my Finnish then the whole episode would not be a waste of time. I had met the staff that I would be working with and they had seemed to be pretty nice so I figured I would keep quiet and knuckle down.

However keeping quiet and knuckling down is a pointless and boring way to fill the time. After the first day had been and gone and I had sat watching children play or eat for six hours I left feeling glad to have survived a group of children and feeling that I had acheived fairly little. So I looked for ways to relieve the boredom. Ultimately that meant actually interacting with the children. Slowly I got myself more involved in what was going on. Initially that meant doing my best to stop the children killing each other. Anybody checking the statistics will find that I did that aspect of the job especially well - in the time I was there, no-one died.

My days were slowly filled helping the children put on their outdoor clothes, helping them take them off, nudging them along when they set the table for dinner, getting out and putting back beds, and so on. I'm not sure when it happened but at some point I realised that I was enjoying myself. Sure, there were bad moments - mostly when not much was happening and I was again just watching. But the boring times were not that bad and were partly the reason I was there in the first place. That is, I was rubbish at doing the job because I couldn't speak Finnish. If I could have spoken more Finnish the job would have been even more enjoyable.

At the moment, I'm giving serious consideration to going to school and studying so I can start working properly in a nursery school. However before that can possibly happen I need to improve my Finnish. And so back I go to Finnish school. And it's intolerable. Yesterday was spent listening to people complain for three hours about their experiences. One guy seemed to be mostly upset that the place he was working in expected him to actually do some work. His logic was wonderful - he was only on that course because the job centre paid him do it, so it was unfair of them to make him go to work. People seemed to miss the point that learning a language usually involves using it in some way.

I'm hoping that when I go back to the normal lessons and actually study Finnish it will be a more pleasurable experience. One discussion point yesterday was "what is Finnish work culture like?" I have worked in a variety of jobs for more than ten years and still I couldn't describe British work culture - every job I have had has been different. So there is no way for me to describe Finnish work culture after seven weeks. If I could do it, I wouldn't have the words to talk about it in Finnish.

Hopefully it won't suck all of the life out of me and I'll manage to struggle on. It's giving me Kiukku though!

Cancelling the phone, wriggling out of exercise

I have just got off the phone with O2. I have had a phone contract with them for about 6 years and after I left the UK it was still running. It runs out next month though so I was calling to cancel the contract. It feels like my last connection with the UK and that without it I won't be able to be contacted. As it happens there are only about three people who still send me any messages on it and I'm in email contact with all of them so I don't expect me to lose touch with them any time soon!

It is strange how attached you get to numbers though - I had thought about changing it to a pay as you go just so that I could keep the number. Of course nowadays nobody knows anybody's phone number since it's all on the phone so whether I keep a particular number or not is irrelavent. But there was a time when you knew all the phone numbers of the people you called most often. I can still remember my Dad's old Hazel Grove phone number twenty years after he moved out. That's all changed now and I don't even know Ulriikka's current phone number. It means that if I lose my phone I might never see her again.

In unrelated news I joined the local gym, technically with the intention of getting rid of the paunch that seems to be deceloping. I'm probably not going to start using the weight machines as it seems to be the most boring thing I can imagine doing. I have gone to a couple of the classes though and they seem enjoyable enough. I did a cycling lesson which started off OK. After about 15 minutes though I was in agony from the bike seat that made it difficult to sit down. The idea of the class though was to stand at various points which left my thighs feeling like they were on fire. So my choice was between severe bottom pain and thigh-knack. I managed to make it to the end of the hour though (mainly by not standing on the bike as much as I should have done if I am honest).

Next up was pilates a few days later. Piece of piss, I figure, it's just stretching. I couldn't do it. I figure that the main problem is that I'm just not strong enough to do it and it will get easier if I stick at it. It was a bit embarrasing not to be able to keep my leg still lifted in the air. Not as embarrasing as not being able to do a sit up mind, but at least that was at the end of the hour and I could blame it on tiredness and the ball between my legs...

The plan is to go three times a week, or twice at the very least. That said, I'm writing this instead of getting ready for the Vatsa-selkä class starting in five minutes. I haven't been to the gym this week at all so week 2 and skiving doesn't bode well. But I will be going regularly so that at the very least I'm not out of breath when I walk up two flights of stairs at school.

The Land of Clean Public Toilets

The Maoris’ called New Zealand the “Land of the Long White Cloud” and now while there are still long white clouds visible here and there, I think they should think about changing it to the “Land of the Amazingly Clean Public Toilets”. This would also be a good slogan for there tourist board to use, it would pull in millions of tourists who are sick of taking vacations to destinations with disgusting public toilets. I have never been in so many clean public facilities. All of the ones I visited had both toilet papers and locking doors; they were also generally up to a better standard then my last five places of employment. Amazing. The “Hunderwasser Toilet” is even a tourist draw and is the only public toilet I have ever taken a photo in.
Another previously unimagined facet of my trip was the general lack of crazy people roaming the streets. I counted six on my trip. Two of those were confirmed crazy as they could be witnessed shouting random things or singing and grunting to themselves on the side of the road. The other four just had big beards and tended to wear army jackets. Confirmation of crazy was impossible as maybe they were just trying to cover up their weak chins and like the color green.
More shocking was that I only spotted one potential serial killer as a hot water stream/swimming area. He fit the classic strange man lurking alone at family swimming area. That was also unusual considering on a normal day going to work I see about three or four.