Everyone says that February is the worst month. I guess it’s
a good thing it’s also the shortest. But given what this short month has been
like so far, I have to agree: February is nobody’s favorite, and definitely not
mine.
This is the fourth month there’s been snow on the ground,
and apparently we have three to go. Three more months. Three. Before I can
smell flowers, see some green grass, walk around in normal footware? Before I
can fly around on my bike again? I have to believe the melt will happen in
stages, but still – the prospect of even more winter isn’t very appealing. To
be fair, it’s getting lighter, too. But that apparently doesn’t make it warmer.
Weather is the least noxious of February’s ‘gifts’.
I had my first real serious bout of illness this month. In
retrospect, I could have probably been more careful and not travelled around so
much, and rested more, and covered my face while out in the cold sea air of
Vaasa. But I came down with bronchitis. I’ll reserve my praise for the Finnish
medical care system for a post where I am not so determined to complain. But
being sick and alone in a foreign country has got to be a special circle of
Dante’s hell. Reality shifts when you’re disoriented, feverish and cut off from
usual points of reference. You focus on survival: how to get to the bus stop
without falling over so you can get to the doctor so you can get antibiotics.
How and where to kill time downtown while waiting for another bus to take you
home. How to get a trip to the store for food in there, especially when you aren’t
hungry at all, and when walking around looking at unappetizing food seems like
an outing you can forego. These things seem so minor when you’re well, but when
you’re feeling like death warmed over, they take on terrifyingly forbidding
contours.
And February – and probably illness – has colored my
attitude towards Finnish society in general. It’s now in the depths of winter
that I see how closed it is. People stay home. They huddle in front of the
television (I assume – how would I know?) and have cozy evenings. That is all.
I think they also do sports, and they probably go visit relatives, but I look
for activities in the papers and don’t see much of anything. Volunteer? Where?
It’s not a society where there is a strong tradition of volunteerism, unless
you’re a missionary. Society works pretty well, so there isn’t a lot of impetus
to improve things. I’ve tried in vain to locate a Transition Town group, for
example. I suppose people go to pubs as well, but I haven’t seen a lot of
activity on that front, either, and living in an area where bus service stops
at 8 p.m., my curfew is early.
But I'm fully aware of my poor attitude. I'm winter-cranky, lonely and trying to slog through. There are signs of beauty out there as well. I'm noticing a lot more birds, and bird song. I love all the suet logs and birdfeeders scattered all over. And the wind-driven, partially evaporated snow creates some amazing natural artwork. February is almost over, and so is my
bronchitis. And this post. March, I'm counting on you.
