Winter in Finland, again...

Many years back, I arrived in Helsinki's international airport in the middle of December. The shock was quite powerful. Along the previous 24 hours, I had moved from a torrid plus 30 (in the planet's Southern Hemisphere) to a freezing minus 20 degrees (in this country, that was to become my future home).

Admittedly, absurdly low temperatures — coupled with ridiculously prolonged daily darkness — do go a long way to generate and exacerbate toxic depressions in otherwise perfectly normal human beings. Add to that, an irresponsibly complex local language, often relegating communication with the locals to creative (if sometimes useless) mimicry, and the emerging prognosis becomes grim indeed.

A possible way out: It took some time for me to eventually realize that the shock was more psychological than physical. And the latter aspect was somewhat easier to handle. Proper warm clothing and abusive squandering of artificial light at odd hours were important steps in the right direction. In fact, even efforts at imitating the natives (for example, attempting cross-country skiing, watching ice-hockey matches, lining up in front of bars, etc.) became practical ways to counteract the pernicious mind related effects.

I also discovered that a strong determination to think positive was quite useful. At least, one should take into account that:

1. The sun does appear a few times during winter, and though its thermic relevance is absolutely non existent, it does have some undeniable aesthetic merits.
2. Though the language is as difficult as it can be, chit-chatting is not a sport Finns are good at, so you will not be submitted to unreasonable demands along this line.
3. Your environment will be rather healthy because, given the local practice of sauna followed by immediate immersion into frozen water, you are likely to meet only the survivors.
4. Finnish winter keeps mosquitoes and many other disgusting insects away.

So, make the best of it. Inevitably (almost), there will be a summer at the other end of the tunnel.

And remember, by and large, this IS the happiest country in the world.

Luis Herrera.