At the conference I attended last weekend, Finnish author
Rosa Liksom struggled to find an English equivalent for a ‘meänkieli’ phrase
that she eventually rendered as ‘Arctic hysteria’. Her fellow authors from
Denmark, Norway, Sweden and Iceland nodded in agreement. Something happens to
people born near the Arctic Circle around this time of the year, after months
of darkness and ice and heavy clothing and slippery paths and cold, cold, cold.
And it’s akin to hysteria.
Here in Joensuu, hysteria isn’t terribly apparent yet. I was
gone in the US for 10 days and things don’t look very much different than they
did April 25. Most of the snow is gone, but there are a few stubborn patches,
hiding under grit, and the lakeshores still have some ice. I saw a few leaves braving
their way out of their buds, and three different kinds of flowers that I cannot
yet name. Some purple ones struggling out from beneath a thatch of last year’s
grass looked a lot like crocuses, and some yellow ones looked a little like
dandelions – but the leaves were wrong, the stem too thick and the petals too
regular.
But of course my little solipsistic glimpse of the world can
be missing something. Vappu came and went while I was gone,
Walpurgis/Beltane/May Day, and all kinds of hysteria could have broken loose
under people’s scarves and puffy jackets. Judging by an obscene picture
reminiscent of “Girls Gone Wild on Spring Break” video ads in the States, on
page 2 of the school paper, this holiday is all about bacchanalian hysteria of
the rawest kind. The school buildings are noticeably emptier now that classes
are over – are the students all still out partying in the woods? Midsummer is
several weeks away, and it’s possible that this will be the height of hysteria.
But it’s also entirely possible that people are experiencing their private
hysterias/ecstasies/euphorias and that it is not a collective national
affliction -- or blessing -- in the way you might have imagined had you listened to the
authors’ panel.
I’m not experiencing hysteria – yet – but I am heaving a
sigh of relief. I made it. Winter is definitely gone. I biked to the store
today without a coat (though my sweater was warm), without boots, without
gloves and without a cap under my helmet. I’m practically rubbing my hands
together imagining packing away all the paraphernalia, including the little
reflectors that help people steer clear of you as you walk home in the dark.
However, I should probably not have made a trip back to
Oregon at this time of year. I have a severe case of garden envy. I visited a
new friend who cut a beautiful, whole cauliflower from his garden and prepared
it for dinner, adding onions, garlic and broccoli shoots he had harvested
shortly before. I miss that immediacy, that ability to walk out and fetch
dinner from the earth. I was able to visit my house, where another friend has
been caring for the beds there, and I saw the small potato leaves starting to
unfurl here and there. Is there such a thing as soil hysteria? If so, I am
feeling it with nearly every fiber of my body. And I wonder if it is a genetic
disposition – if it’s my peasant stock claiming its own. As if I can’t go for
more than nine months without digging my hands into a pile of dirt.
I am most confused now. I should have hung in there for the
entire cycle of Finnish weather, perhaps entered into hysteria with my new
compatriots, not ‘gone home’ for a breather before coming back and finishing
the year. Do I stay? Do I go? Do I commute? How does one make the decision
where to hang one’s hat? The friend with the cauliflower had a very wise
suggestion: decide where you want to wake up every morning. I’ve been thinking
about that. And I think it doesn’t matter as long as I can walk out into a
landscape with a steaming mug of coffee, looking at how far along the living
creatures have come since last I looked. Can I do this in a greenhouse in
mid-winter? Can I walk out on a frozen dock and feel the same satisfaction as I
look at the ice? Is it the traces in nature I want to see, or is it vegetable
matter that matters?
And there’s the issue of impact. I’ve always wanted to be
where I’ll be of most use. I know I’m doing some good here, but I felt that way
in Eugene as well, and across a broader spectrum. I know, the sages will say
that you can make an impact no matter where you are. Is it more meaningful to
give back to the culture that raised you? Less meaningful to educate the
privileged? Am I arguing about angels on pinheads here? At least I’m not
hysterical about this – simply thoughtful and curious about how it will all
turn out.
Now I’m headed for another three weeks away from Finland.
Things are sure to be far advanced by the time I get back. Hopefully I’ll get
to experience a taste of hysteria when I return – or at least some measured
cavorting in someone’s backyard.
