Yesterday was dramatic. It resonated.

Tee ees - the road ahead

2011-02-25T09:39:00.003+02:00

Realizations shape life, shape the path. Show you how far off you may have been.. show you where you're headed. Where the õige things and people stand. The air is clearer here, the light more defined. The energy unreal, and more real than can ever be imagined.

True as ever -

Edasi..

Ots - point - geahči

2011-02-11T12:24:00.004+02:00

I've realized that I am uneasy, sometimes exasperated with "points". Call them the peaks and valleys, a snapping point or 30-point bucks.. they instill a bit of doubt. Am I putting in enough effort to re-route or maintain the direction of things? Is it all just cycling and therefore I need not worry about effort? Obviously when things are at a higher point or a peak, it feels like the right time to allow things to soar as they will, to not overextend my efforts so as to not be an obstacle to natural growth or inadvertently re-route the momentum of the moment. When they are lower, down in a sort of rut, then there is that feeling of inadequate exertion in an opaque cocktail with the glimmering suspect that a turn-around is straight ahead. You never really know whether you are just running against a wall until you either break through or stumble across it. How much of that are you responsible for? Not running means a static state, which in principle leads nowhere. Though I wonder what can be found in 'nowhere'..

Head down and shoulders locked or shake it off and face the sky?

Simply searching for the arc. Best place to look is straight ahead, I suppose.

Edasi..

Rmmffhfhfh.

2011-02-02T13:03:00.006+02:00

I don't often read horoscopes. Specifically, only when I have the urge to scan the gems written by The Onion or when I get a free month-long newspaper subscription and the only rival to horoscopes on the back page is the weather report. Today's bit of "cosmic wisdom" caught my eye and my eyebrows.

Kuula sisehäält, kuna see võib lausa karjuda.
Listen to your inner voice, as it might outright shout.

Tähed räägivad tõtt - the stars speak the truth. Whether it is the alignment of the planets, slowly rising temperatures and increasing daylight, mild lactose intolerance or simply the confluence of all things life.. that inner voice is making a racket as of late. What language it speaks, however, often escapes me.

Edasi..

Keeleelamine

2011-01-27T01:02:00.006+02:00

Nii.

I just heard an incredibly intriguing tale about late Eesti President Lennart Meri tonight, and felt I should lock it down in visible, re-audible form for later times.

Härra Meri was once on an ethnographic trip to film Finno-Ugric doings amongst the Nganassaani prior to Eesti re-gaining independence (on a side note - definitely check out Lõhmus' film "Tantsud Linnuteele. Pildistusi Lennart Meri filmirännakutelt" when the opportunity arises). Obviously this meant it was Soviet times, and - not much differently from the norm amongst more eastern-centered Finno-Ugric peoples today - Russian was the language used for bridging linguistic streams. After paddling upstream with the crew and local Nganassaani to their camp to film a bear ritual, docking and unloading and such, Meri pulled one of the other Estonians on the trip aside and said "Come over here and let's speak in our own language for ten minutes." Eesti keeles, eks ole. "Ten minutes?" the guy asked. Meri nodded. So they sat on the bank of the river, amongst the bustle and after having felt a bit of resistance and slight hostility from the Nganassaani ("Why should we work for you?" I think was a rough translation of the phrase used prior to launch), and started chatting about the world in straight, lilting and üliilus eesti keeles. After a few minutes, one of the younger Nganassaani came up to them and asked, "What are you saying? I don't understand." Meri answered, "We're speaking our own language." The Nganassaani chap cocked his head and stared at them in more-than-slight bewilderment for a while, listening to the language.. hearing the sound and the rhythm, the deep similarities with his own. Afterwards, intertwining the group with the Nganassaani began to picked up pace and depth.

The words "Russian", "stranger/other" ("võõras") and "enemy" all share one common set of letters in Nganassaani - their word for "Russian". Once the people determined and took to heart the fact that eestlased (Estonians) were neither the first nor the third, the second was soon to fall and the understanding that there was a deeper bond came forth. Soome-ugri - Finno-Ugric.

Speak your language, no matter how "small" or whether anyone around you comprehends. It opens up its own worlds..

Räägi.

Edasi..

Juovllat, šnaps, lumi and cheer. The slow unwind.

2010-12-24T12:29:00.008+02:00

Ohh, holidays. The redefining of such occasions with age is indeed a thing of wonder. Some of the 'magical' properties, winds filled with the mysterious change in public attitude and excitement, do abate somewhat.. however other pleasant aspects erupt in their place. All the more reason why some people despise widely-celebrated holidays .. obligations sometimes pop up and seem to fully rob the days of this deserved, almost human right of a calm, self-pleasing spirit. If such mandatory indentured hours can be avoided, though.. well hot damn, it can be doused right back in the adult version of a magical time.

Today, for example, has been fantastic so far. Woke up rested around ten o'clock, had some tea and a cinnamon roll, lit the lights on the jõulupuu / ёлка / Christmas tree, put on some music to fit the season, hit up the shop for hõõgvein / glögg, verivorstid / blood sausages, piparkoogid / gingerbread and some proper winter porter, came back to sit and read for a bit with coffee, and am now heading out with my suusad / sabet / skis for a bit of biting cold air, then back for indulging in the hõõgvein and just generally .. enjoying the holiday just as it means by definition. Slowing everything down about forty notches, enjoying the holiday greetings from here and there - from deeply missed friends afar, and letting every molecule in my body simply take some time off from the rampaging rush that is the other side of 'progress'.

So more on that quite soon, and in the meantime - häid pühi, happy holidays to all. Just take a breath and smile.

Edasi, вперёд..

Hereandthereandhereand.. - Siinjasealjasiinja..

2010-11-17T21:12:00.008+02:00

.........so now a day later (don't mind the time stamps, like I mentioned - this takes time), I feel I'd like to go off more on the expat topic.

I had forgotten. It sounds quite romantic and mysterious, though the truth is - I did. Part of this was planned, of course. I feel that I never really was an expat until about eight month ago (give or take). The method in which I wanted to dive into eesti keel required this status to be waived .. at least my realization of the status. After I moved here, I refused more and more often to speak in any language other than eesti keel or русский язык. Not the easiest way to make friends, contacts or rapid progress in linguistic proficiency, but effective nonetheless. Essential.

Along with comfort at how proficiency was progressing came an easing of aversion to anything English. Mind you, a lot of this is internal now (and welcome!); however I at least allowed myself to associate more with fellow expats.. even though it took a while for the 'fellow' identity to set in! I read a fantastic article written by another US-born nomad upon being back on that side of the ocean (albeit temporarily -- I still remember the first times I experienced those blips of life between plane tickets!).

One of the comments on the blog post contained an amazing quote, along with a similarly insightful reply from the author herself:

"Forever lost no matter our location" - I feel like I've

retained "otherness" even in coming home.

This is for good, for real, deep down, on like prawn. Embracing your instilled expat identity dispels all boundaries. Minneapolis I love, yet there is a constant yearning to be here when I am there.. all the same, when I am here I pine for Minneapolis, and Suomi, and Sverige, and Ísland and........ it is fantastic. Intoxicating and uplifting. Not merely a lifestyle, or a life, but a complex and indescribable identity in itself. I am not detached from any of the places, nor am I so deeply rooted that I can not survive - can not feel them and still enjoy and revel from afar.

If that all does not call for a beer, then.. well. It does.

Edasi, вперёд..

Embracing the expat within..

2010-11-15T12:10:00.007+02:00

Well, as the fog rolls in and winter winks slyly, it seems only right to finally write a post that is actually meant to be informative.

Life in Eesti..

As I type this part of this post (given the fact it is supposed to be descriptive and understandable, composing it takes a bit of time!), I am sitting with soothing soft jazz and the constant flow of trickling water surrounding me in a café. One thing that seriously defines a country is its array of cafés.. I deeply miss the culture in Minneapolis: good music, provoking elements piecing together to become some corner Uptown espresso joint, interesting people coming through and living their lives as they live them alongside you - just a small table or couch away.. these atmospheres are impossible to replicate or transplant. I believe that some places of this type exist in the UK and various pockets in Western Europe, however they are surprisingly absent here. Even when I was in Suomi looking for a place to sit down with a book and some temporal calm existence, it was a bit difficult to track down somewhere outside swarms of tourists, non-corporate and not just a shack with an automatic Nescafe dispenser. Maybe my searches have been too short and too limited (I suspect this), as I have only done so during the course of tethered travel and time-space deadlines.

Eesti has a few positive locations that at least provide some elements of decent coffee-shoppery. Yet almost all of these are accompanied by some sort of disqualifier - for example, I'm currently enjoying my work day with upper-mid-priced coffee at the second-level café in Rahva Raamat bookstore.. located at the very top level of Viru Keskus shopping center with a great window booth seat overlooking the consumer orgy below and with a skylight above. Not bad, overall.. jazz is playing (as I said) and there is also an interesting fountain to the one side of the cafe (constant trickling fantasticness).. yet no free bathrooms. All in all, it is my favorite spot in Tallinn next to Kehrwieder locations.. however I technically work for those place and the customer flow there is much more active. In any case, all the above have much better results than usual attempts to 'branch out' a bit. I tried a small café that has always looked interesting, yet is directed towards the daily business crowd and is only open until 18:00. It was good to give it a try, I suppose.. and in doing so, find one of the few locations in downtown Tallinn that make you feel like you are at some rural bus stop between Moscow and St. Petersburg. Watery brown-ish Nescafe straight from a discount vending machine, music that will either make you want to down half a bottle of vodka or go postal after three minutes, and absolutely no character. The majority of other cafés here tend to bear elements of this or go to the exact opposite extreme -- über-classy and low quality with looks of scorn as you try to relax. A good number of cafés here tend to cross or try to smudge the line between coffee place and restaurant.. given, 'expert reviews' judge them on their kitchen as well and I know from violent experience (literally - an intoxicated pensioner swung a punch!) that clients expect there to be some sort of 'praad' - i.e. main dish. Makes sense that physical conflict should ensue if the establishment does not follow up on their 'obligation' to provide solutions for drunken munchies.

Müürikohvik in Haapsalu completes the top-three of places at which I am comfortable working or unwinding.. though given the multiple-hour bus ride required to hit up the location, I am sadly unable to frequent it often. Maybe it is just a lack of integration on my part - who am I to think that a café is not defined by its array of faux-Indian dishes, cognac menu and an atmosphere that is either prepping you to get back in your BMW or drink yourself slurry?

Cases such as these cause me to question levels of integration overall -- does the term entail living it and shutting up, or is there room for criticism in the process? For some reason, I am often in turmoil with the preconception that while still undergoing integration you really only have the right to openly and directly criticize certain elements after you understand why they function as such and after determining whether or not they are beneficial for the target society in question. I concur - the reason such conflicts exist is that the world is still chock full of diversity. This is a positive aspect, and even some things that may seem negative to the outsider or even to a lifelong member of the culture are still necessary for it remaining unique. Where does the line run between having arty cafés dotting the streets, filled with thinkers and conversationalists; and a monotone urban landscape void of geographic peculiarities? I suppose the only way to go at it is to give it a try -- however the former spots did themselves arise from a certain environment and it might be supposed that such corresponding cafés or whatnot should do the same in their own country. Progression vs. reform vs. renewal.. vs. a preserved form. Inspiration? It would be fantastic to open up some place combining all the things I would like personally in a cafe - Kehrwieder is actually a fantastic example of this, as a Canadian expat with Estonian roots and a life story encircling the globe succeeded in creating the type of Estonian café he always wanted to patron. Possibly some day and with some kind of capital and loads of freedom to keep up a somewhat nomadic existence.. that must be it. Integration is an individual process through and through, and each minuscule element is a personal decision, a determination of the level at which one floats or submerges. We nomads and cultural vagabonds are not merely aquatic or of land -- gills in some tidepools and wings above others.

Edasi, вперёд..

Influence - Mõju

2010-11-14T17:50:00.003+02:00

Output is essential, though what falls under question is quality, form, means, motive. Motivation itself is quite the positive, propelled sort of output. Yet what then, if motivation is the purpose in itself? How do all these elements really interplay? The ends seems to be a thing of value, something of function and purpose in itself that will utterly lead to a further stage in this sloped progression. Motivation entails momentum, which is not a static thing, is not fixed. The two interplay to make for positivity, yet the presence of both is essential for real motion, for movement. Is it always the object that is a catalyst for inspiration? Does the energy flow outward, only giving the appearance that it is emanating from the actor, and is actually still quite reciprocal? Or is it possible to acquire this from another source, independent of the intended direction?

Indeed.

Edasi, вперёд..

Cloud exchange - arutelu pilvedega

2010-10-25T11:46:00.007+03:00

The paradox of seasons is lovely in all its pauses and moments of furrowed brow. I already miss near-daily contact with the sea. Expression unleashed through spinning XX cm tires or tyres on pavement, on stone and grace to wherever that trifecto might lead. All the same, it takes a different and strangely communal alternate form now, in the time of wind, snow, golden red carpets spread past the horizon and a fulfilling promise of transition. Summer meditation is an exchange directly with loodus-luondu, encounters with mountains of moss and sea spray. Autumn brings a proposal to commit these thoughts to more visible, revisit-able form. Form in itself.

No harm done. Progression.

Edasi, вперёд..

Flicker - virvendus

2010-10-21T11:00:00.002+03:00

Expression must simply flow outward, uninhibited. Pen to paper - pastakas paberi peale - that's how it starts. Uncharted at first, at last. Somewhere in-between as well, likely. The points shift and shake, in a daze between themselves and that which they are not. As soon as it begins, it begins. Ending is not an option, the only harsh reality in the otherwise flurry of forwards rushing.

Far from a discussion.

Edasi, вперёд..

Inclusion - omaks võtmine

2010-10-19T10:43:00.009+03:00

Now that my seasonal transport cycle has swung into its more heated, padded, expensive segment, bus-waiting and bus-ride musings have returned. A recent one (I think it was a bit after reliving the shock of discovering that all ducks are wearing dog masks - cue existential crisis!) phased in and out and around the Estonian phrase 'omaks võtma' -- literally, to make or take as 'one's own'; to accept and welcome into your sphere of 'belonging'.

This seems to summarize one of the fundamental reasons for why I came to Estonia, in both 'directions' of the word. Estonian language (and, to a great extent, culture) was to become 'oma' and I would like; wouldn't mind, really; just -- come on; to be part of the social sphere.

Estonians are, in a way, a lone bubble. Watching from afar what happens if you let too many other smaller bubbles merge; fearing that moment of opening and merging going out of control and bursting the entire fabric; yet at the same time wanting to be one of the bigger bubbles. Yes, culture and language must be preserved, promoted and developed unconditionally. Hyper-fear does not help anything, on the other hand.

Estonian officials piped up far too loudly on Europe's Roma issue, in my opinion. This should be reserved for countries with experience in the Roma matter and attempts to compare it with Estonian Russians should definitely not be made. We find it unappealing to accept refugees here (even with the carrots of EU support and free reign to require as much language training and immersion as we like); it is even unconstitutional to accept Guantanamo inmates into the prison system. The moment that German Chancellor Angela Merkel spoke of how Germany's vision of 'multiculturalism' has failed, the story was put on a pedestal in bold lettering here. No matter that Merkel was speaking specifically about Germany's problem, Germany's official state policies and Germany's immigrants -- many will, for the most part, chorus this instance.

Prior to status as (one of the) 2011 European Capital(s) of Culture ('assistant to the manager'), a 'tolerance' campaign I very much support is indeed underway, entitled 'Erinevus rikastab' ('Difference enriches'). It has brought forth some positive support in the press along with those articles voicing the horrid opinions of some people that you, pleasantly enough, do not and would not hear from otherwise. I'm glad the discussion has been increased somewhat, 'preparing' us for greater integration (come if it may), and hoping that this does not turn out to be rhetorical as have so many other similar campaigns. Maybe that's just the Estonian tinged negativity seeping in - võtan omaks!

What people often fail to realize is that the Estonian bubble has not burst over thousands of years and maybe, possibly, there is a shred of chance that letting more elements reach the status of 'oma' is not such a bad move; assuming of course that these elements thoroughly learn Estonian and at least appreciate certain cultural elements definitive of Marjamaa. 'Purity' means inbreeding. Of course, if you do want to go for that, then great - keep it up. Just don't get into any decision-making positions and keep it to yourself for as long as your genes hold up.

The key to doing so is by being sneaky, though.. takes some tact on the part of those wishing to integrate with Eesti. Currently underway here are Hõimupäevad - Pan-Finno-Ugric Days - , for example. I have to say, this is one of the most inclusionary (a word that does not pop up often!) gatherings of people that I have stumbled into. Although maybe this is in part because we (i.e. Finno-Ugric peoples) commonly condemn Russification and certain policies undertaken by Russians (not Finno-Ugric, mind you) throughout.. well, a long, long history.

This actually raises an interesting question - would Estonia and many of these others be so pro-Finno-Ugric were there not the 'Russian problem'? Would there be a hall full of people dancing to Mari, Hungarian, Livonian etc music together if subjugation was not still a pressing topic? I'd like to think so, but there is that sneaking suspicion we would instead be putting this effort behind our status as a Nordic country and aligning ourselves with such cultures. Anyways, tangent upon several preceding tangents.

Where was this going? Oh, right. All ducks are wearing dog masks. We know relatively nothing in life. Might as well approach things accordingly.

Edasi, вперёд..

Pondering, panga peal.

2010-10-13T19:28:00.003+03:00

I saw a single leaf fall from a tree today in the wind. I must get out there more often, for if I had not been there, who would have seen it fall?

Edasi, вперёд..

Sustenance. Ülalpidamine.

2010-09-17T11:13:00.013+03:00

I do think that people often draw connections in formerly Soviet-occupied countries too quickly between between those times and these in several situations. That said, I think it is also fun to do so and support the hype.

I was not so naive to think that I would be faced with stark, empty shelves and long lines when I first went to Ukraine in 2006; nor when I went to Russia in the same year and absolutely not upon moving here to Estonia. I really never expected to see anything of the sort: we are upstanding members of the European Union and much more of a Nordic country than Eastern European, or even Baltic. Politicians make cases for it all the time and are desperately reeling in the line pulling us towards Scandinavia. A liberal, population-friendly, stable social-welfare state with all the European ideals you could want in 45,228 square kilometers.

Walking into my local Selver supermarket, it does not look like the economy just hit a hitch bringing us back to the early 1990's or wartime. Nonetheless, the utter absence of even a single staple product is a bit of a shock to someone who has never experienced living in a time of full-scale economic turmoil, and what's more, when the country in question where the product is missing now is not in trouble either at the moment!

Specifically, many shops here are out of buckwheat. The secret network of pensioners released a directive to hoard up on the stuff for good ole' hoardin' time's sake, leaving non-imminent-apocalypse proponents like myself slightly bothered. Hassled. Oh, what an injustice in our modern world.

Yes, this is buckwheat we're talking about here. Not exactly something I have morning, noon and evening with a spoonful and a topka of vodka before sleep. Well, not always. At the same time, I had just reached the end of the last pack (took me a good four months), and it was simply time to get more. A disappointment, but no matter. So I go through the next items I wanted to pick up, head to the spices section to snag some cloves for autumn apple pies, aaaand.. nothing. Ravaged by the old women boiling jam in their kitchens, stirring large evil-looking cauldrons and chortling. Damn chortlers.

Estonia will adopt the euro (a bastard child, in my opinion) on January 1, 2011. Those familiar with how things went the last time we switched currencies and lived through price fears surrounding accession to the EU in 2004 apparently haven't gained much confidence. Most just dismiss the case as such - but fear-mongering is so enjoyable! Plus it gives this wayward Minnesotan-Estonian a chance to see some of those fabled empty shelves.

As long as beer isn't next up (articles shrieking about gargantuan grain prices because of the Russian export ban have been gaining momentum in the press), it's a quirk that's making me grin a bit.

Edasi, вперёд..

Suund. Direction.

2010-09-06T19:54:00.006+03:00

The air is crisp once more, breaths become deeper and I find myself engulfed in the struggle to live every moment in life just as the one in which I was in before. The definition of this 'before' of course ranges, becomes every more widespread and varied as time curves forth. Eks proovingi ikka.

Summer has softly relinquished to autumn, which enters in a moment with a light wave. I feel myself grappling with the moments, turning them over carefully for elements of tangibility. Not that I expect to find any, or would even wish for it. More merely a process with which to acknowledge and grasp more deeply. Truly. Madly? That's enough.

Adventures numbered many throughout the warmer months, thus a lack in expressing them through typed form. Each provided moments for meditation of various frequencies.. and I'm thirsty for more. The one which would have spun me like an ocean surge unfortunately was delayed until the moment (and numbers in my bank account) strike. I had planned on keeping the compass needle firmly on N, heading to Anár (Inari) and delving into Ijahis Idja, a Sámi music festival in late August. Alas the sharper end of capitalization caught me and travel conjoined with accommodations near +10 C would have left a large gap in my monetary sustainability. Nonetheless, I ended up heading to the mansion owned by my German friend Patrick's family in Saare (Lyckholm), Noarootsi. Haapsalu really entranced me, and doing the spiral bike ride (+/- 50 km/suund) through the encasing indecision of fog and misty rain was a well-centered breath.

Meeting up with Patrick and a pair of Minneapolis friends passing through definitely embolstered, though now I feel a drive for solo travel and transit once more. The likes of here (2006/07), of Copenhagen 2007, Paris 2008, Amsterdam of the same year. Even mere bus rides, train rides, moments passing with Múm in my ears. Moving as part of the mass, unnoticed yet present and rising. Mist the unknown, in common transit as well.

It approaches once more; in Eesti or degrees of latitude North.. the crisp air will accompany, with scarves and deep breaths throughout.

Edasi, вперёд..

Yes and yes. Jah ja ja. Juo ja juo.

2010-07-05T20:31:00.014+03:00

In inadvertently semi-false responses often lies a sort of truth more interesting to defend.

That said, it's invariably more difficult to understand someone when they speak in straight-off-the-isles, rapid-speed Estonian and are at the same time pricking blood vessels and constricting various parts of your body. Mind you, this was one of the nicest tädi's at the blood donation center (and they are all ten times sweeter than any grandmother); yet easy to mistake what they say.

"Asakjask shssaass hsaahaa," is how it sounded. Often faced with this when living in a language I've been speaking for a few years, I'm used to such a sentence. I asked again (variating proficiency makes me feel like an elderly person with a malfunctioning hearing aid sometimes). Her repetition of the question was disappointingly similar.

Another part of living in another language and culture is learning to be decisive and not give away your level of perception of the surroundings. Doing so means that there often will be no disruption in the scene and allows you to pick up much more from the flow instead of the particularities of situations. I was hoping this question was a particularity, a "Does that hurt?" or "Do you want your blood sample to go to starving orphans?" and not something upon which the conversation would hinge. In most cases, you can get away with a positive/negative response, and given your 50-50 choice, you'll hit the right one and things will go on as planned. Feeling like I hadn't shot out a "no" in a while (again - surrounded by a late-middle-aged crowd with sharp things), I went with that reply.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah." Confidently. Decisively.

To my surprise, this launched her onto an entirely fresh burst of the conversation filled with stories, illustrations and heartfelt enthusiasm. Again - not understanding a question doesn't mean you can't answer it.

I derived after a few sentences the fact that I answered "no" to a question I would often answer "yes" to - partly out of habit, partly out of genuine attitude. Nurse Enthusiasm (not a word you use often in Estonia) asked whether I had full-out fallen in love with the country.

No point in backtracking - it's much more engaging to go with it and at least give yourself a challenge that departs from the usual pre-approved phrases and conversational swings. So I went with it.

Nurse Put-Down-Her-Pen-Now-Enthusiasm went on to tell me about her daughter who moved to the States to study, ended up marrying a Yank and lives out there now. The daughter would like to someday move back to Estonia, however her husband works for NASA and jobs of a similar caliber are rare in Estonia, not to mention the fact that most of the information he has is probably state secrets (i.e. which vending machine will often shoot out two bottles if you put in an odd number of coins). The woman likes living in the States and has no problem carrying on there, yet still yearns a bit for Eestimaa.

"Home is home," said the nurse with a nod and an extra-firm slap of a bar code sticker on one of the forms.

I'm not one-hundred-percent staunchly behind her statements and (being incoherent and indecisive) would pad it up with a heap of qualifiers, yet it wasn't enough for me to turn around and refute. 'Home' is definitely something that develops through various periods of time, that ends up choosing you as much as you choose it. I think a person can have multiple homes and, although they can have different associations and depths of connection with the person, these may all be on a comparable level.

How would this go? A 'primary' home followed by some 'secondary' ones? This seems a bit cheap; at least enough to question using the term 'home' for anything less than all-out extraordinary. Here's where that shifty yesandno comes about.. Minneapolis is, for me, home, and Estonia is home as well, though with different associations and basis for being so.

I can't say it's just language, though the Finno-Ugricness definitely has its part. This can also be taken in a wider sense, such as how I can generally envision myself a

lso living and being contentin Suomi and Sámpi. The thing is that my draw to Estonia and my ethnic identity does not at all clash with all that encompasses Minneapolis and Minnesota - it seems rather like it accentuates and enhances that identity. At the same time, Minneapolis is a massive part of my identity itself, and has its part in defining my life here and how I express being Finno-Ugric. Ehhhhh..

I just need to build a lavvu and have some source of revenue that enables me to be nomadic between the Cities and northern Europe. No problem there - just execution. The separation of an multifaceted identity and a precise location is a tricky one indeed..

Edasi, вперёд..

This is an adventure..

2010-05-18T09:18:00.013+03:00

Almmi (pictured) is kahtlemata - without doubt - one of the largest and most sensible ways in which I have passed along money finding its way into my hands, ever. Next to trans-Atlantic plane tickets and my IKEA bed-mattress-down comforter set in Minneapolis, of course. It is freedom in a different form, with different, very permeable boundaries. Mobility conditioned by waves, wind and sun. I undergo daily sensations at various times of being on the waves, with the cells in my body retuned to the rhythm of the tide and me just along for the ride. Whilst translating copious amounts of articles about tobacco smuggling and building permit disputes and the like, dumping coffee down my throat on dry land. I just need to condition myself into being able to recall the feeling at will - sure I could make myself fall asleep anywhere or at least startle passerbys, randomly shouting 'land ho!' and whatever other maritime terminology I can dredge up. This is what a month's salary can land you.

I initially held her in a garage in Pirita next to the same shop from which I bought her. Well, technically she was there wrapped in plastic for two weeks before I got access to her and then immediately rowed her to Miiduranna, where she's all snugged up at a friend's parents' place on the seashore. Right, now to break that sentence down. After purchasing the kayak, I found out that it was located in a warehouse on Peterburi maantee and that it would be transported to Pirita after some weeks. In the meantime, I was able to freely use the other kayaks available there (one slightly older model of my own and one new, crazy-light composite that kept my adrenaline on extra-max to stay balanced). This was all fine and the idea of keeping my own kayak at the garage was suitable for some time, as: A. I had no where else to put it, B. I had no way of transporting it by land, and C. it was still snowing every other weekend. When my kayak finally arrived at the garage, the shop owner took off to China for a couple weeks to tour the factory (yes, I row a vessel designed by neutral Norwegians and crafted in a communist country - the perfect European). This was actually the crux of the slight discomfort in running down to Pirita whenever I wanted to go row - the garage was only accessible on weekdays until six or seven o'clock in the evening; not the most propitious for random bouts and prospective weekends out camping.

As soon as the owner got back and the wind lulled, I went down for the first paddle. Immediately beforehand I had locked down a place to keep it longer-term - an amazing location in a friend's parents' garden about 50 meters from the sea. SCORE. Yeah. Two million points. I planned on doing the maiden paddle, placing Almmi back in the garage and then doing the trip from Pirita to Miiduranna later in the week. Mentioned this to the shop owner as she was going out for a run, and agreed how to leave one door unlocked so I could put the kayak to rest for the eve; the owner would close up later before she left. At first, I planned on a short, half-hour bout. Ha.

Went upriver, ran some small rapids and surfed a bit on tail-waves; then went back and out of the harbor to acquaint Almmi with the sea.. and to reaquaint myself, as I then had little experience, mostly consisting playing around the mouth of the harbor and in rowing a two-person kayak a year ago to the top of Viimsi poolsaar (peninsula).

This is why I usually don't write out stories here.. I'm sure the boredom will last for eight pages more, four cups of tea and then both myself and the reader can somehow shake off drowsiness and at least superficially direct attention to .. right, I'll just keep writing.

So when I headed back to the shop, pulled Almmi out of the water and prepared to stow the goods, found out that it was all fully locked up, as the owner thought I had already come and gone. No response to mobile calls. Standing outside with a 5.2-meter sea vessel. Fantastic! My friend was able to answer her mobile, however, and was not at work (thank you, work schedule of that particular Chinese restaurant) and agreed to meeting up at Miiduranna after I paddled there.. a good cap to the two hours of paddling I had already done that day! Sea conditions were unbelievable, however, as the pictures and deep-seeded memories show.

I almost deleted that story three times in the mix. Is this what happens when my daily English use is primarily in translating mundane articles and watching episodes of 'The O.C.'? (I know, I know - probably should have deleted that as well.. selective coherency and detail: that's my style.)

That which probably should have attained greater attention is the tale of my day-journey from Miiduranna to Kräsuli, Kumbli and Aegna saared (islands) and back - a solid 25 km of paddling in various wind and wave conditions. I actually planned to camp that evening on Aegna, brought along a tent and extra water and everything.. and left my sleeping bag on my balcony in Lasnamäe, because.. that's pure preservative-free logic, fool. The weather was extremely warm during the day, though a storm was slowly approaching by the time I landed and the breeze became cooler. Thus I figured the choice was to strain myself for another couple hours, stay near the shore and hope for a Zeusish chaos not to ensue; or to chill, walk around a bit and probably be wet and cold for most of the night with paddling planned for unsure conditions the next morn. I went with the former. After grilling sausages and having a beer, of course (see - logic).

What more to say - a few 1.8-2 meter swells (yes, really) meant that Almmi is no longer a young kayak virgin and can not be sacrificed to any undersea Baltic volcano deities, I learned that small, sparsely vegetated islands are where avian cannibals reside and one should not do more than come to shore, stamp out cramps from one's leg and then scurry back into a kayak to face the open sea waves pounding in while trying to reach more hospitable spots of land.. the usual weekend.

Most of the moments worth writing about or taking a picture of are exactly those which do not fit into words or replicable images.

My goal is rowing to the shores of Naissaare by the end of summer. Beer and sausage to commemorate the voyage, as always. Possibly even bring along sleeping bag and tent. All I need further are a red cap and a speedo. Maybe a glock and some correspondence stock.

Ho.

Edasi, вперёд..

Kõik keerlemas - All in a whirl.

2010-04-09T11:01:00.005+03:00

The last week has been one of the most work-intense stretches of time I've had in a while. Placing this in past tense is, of course, an overstatement.. it's closing in on mid-Friday, though given one special weekly media survey/translating project I have occupying part of this very night and tomorrow morning, not to mention semi-volunteer activities co-managing a creative space in Vanalinn (Old Town) and everything that entails on weekends, well, I think I might have a day entirely free of adult responsibilities sometime next month. I'm not complaining, mind you. Alright, I am complaining. Lightly. Like a soft bird-song in spring. Of a bird that is bitching about stress and wanting to travel and have a few moments of total unwind.

I've been somewhat bewildered (yes, I wildered be) by how rapidly the days pass when you are chained to an electronic device giving your fingers mad exercise sessions. The sky is now light until about 21:30, which definitely inspires and just ratchets up my giddiness for the unending eves of the coming months. Mornings are also quite bright.. that one took me about a week to get used to again; startling multiple times and checking the time on my mobile to make sure I hadn't overslept.. only to slip back into timeless semi-consciousness and repeat the action several times. It's interesting how we adapt to this.. and I ask, what adapts? Is it the eyes getting used to more light or the consciousness getting used to ignoring it?

In any case, the shifting seasons are doing exactly that, and I feel a lack of full, rightful participation in the process. As much as you say, "Damn, that week went by really fast because of all the work" in a positive sense, it still is just a celebration of the fleeting. Yes, fantastic that all of that work was completed and now the weekend (alternate work) is here. The speed of passage isn't that important, though, as more is on its way. Waves and waves of it. Again, not complaining. I'm absolutely mystified and certainly reminiscent (though admittedly glorifying a bit, as one does) of the times in Uni when I had that majestic feeling of time. Of course, working 30-40 hours per week during most of the time I was in Uni and the growing will to research certain topics on my 'own time' did set semi-permeable bounds on this sense of the rolling minutes. At the same time, it was such a comforting feeling in its own right - the ability to manage the things you wanted/needed to accomplish within a wider set of sun-revolvements. My life at the moment is defined by deadlines - half-hour, hour, by-the-next-morning, what have you.. in all, transforming my sense of time into something a bit overly tangible. I have this sense that in Uni, the concept of time and its elapsing varied depending upon various transient events. A long paper was due or an exam on its way, things became less fluid and a bit more scheduled; though after the completion of this event, the particles scattered back into a wider and less minute picture. Work, of course, was something still very bounded; however it was together with people I enjoyed (coworkers and customers alike, for the most part, with some horrid exceptions) and doing something which really translated into active meditation for me.

Cue warmer conditions and unfurling opportunity. The sea ice has broken up and breeze is becoming less chilling; some paddling for hours or, when employment allows, days, be on its way..s. I'm also trying to locate a cheap, older frame so I can Frankenstein Laika (my bike) into a form of full capacity; whatever roads and trails and turns appear will follow. I don't suppose that what characterized my sense of time in Uni is something which is faded or must be pushed back until I'm collecting pension. It's nothing lost; just untapped. There has to be a way to get into that rhythm (yes) more frequently, really, somehow daily. As difficult as it is for me to turn down or shed off more time-constraining activities, it's something that I must allow for in the future.. I'm used to packing the schedule to the brim and then building up shorelines above that. Balance is always key. Time for the eyes to adjust.

As Benny Benassi says: "Time. Time is what you need." Cue bass.

Edasi, вперёд..

Gos..

2010-03-22T12:56:00.005+02:00

So, in times which constitute the recent, I've slacked off from mass updating via blog form. Part of this I could attribute to lack of time; another part to my aversion to touching digital objects when not doing so for work purposes (which runs back into my first reason); another is, well, not a lack of motivation per say, but whatever drives said motivation. Sparks it up a bit. Gives it the giggles. Digressing further, maybe this is just associated with the cold-and-darkity of winter. I'm comfortable blaming it on that, in any case. While I do thoroughly enjoy the season (I'd put it tied with summer at number two for top seasons, with čakča (sügis, fall) taking its rightful golden leaves), at times I feel that a mild hibernation over this period would be totally justifiable. Not in the sense of sleeping it through (well, overall), but in leaning next to an open fire and emerging only to do the necessary (more beer.. and of course other things). The more I contemplate this, the more I realize that my bodily clock is likely set on a nomadic northern European lifestyle circa a few hundred years ago. Probably not only my bodily clock.

While I don't generally implement this blog for speaking of recent life news or events, this line of straw-grasping does lead to one significancy - I purchased a süst (kayak). It's something I've informally contemplated acquiring for a long period of time, and with the help of an awesome deal (not to mention a new translating customer from the whole bout) and the absurd logic of it being quite, quite useful in the event of civilizational collapse (works for me), I decided to go with it. She's over five meters in length, lime green and yet-unnamed (waiting for the sea ice to break up before embarking on the first voyage, understandably). How this locks up with the previous line of incoherency is that I'm very stoked to get out, into some physical and meditational shape and onto some islands for purposes of randominity and camping and such. Mobility outside of bus lines and shoveled sidewalks is something I've felt amiss throughout the deep frost. I know that waist-high snow shouldn't hinder me (it doesn't, and sometimes didn't) from such escapades, but, well.. informal hibernation. Back to all that is local nomadism. I've come to realize that this is a deep-set trait; not always in the far-flung sense, though not quite set in staticity.

This is all highly likely to lead to me someday getting another liberal arts degree. Or building a saun and acquiring some reindeer. Maybe both. Bures.

Edasi, вперёд..

Mii?

2010-02-09T10:06:00.005+02:00

This winter seems to be lacking in subtlety, which I firmly enjoy. Packs a punch. And an extra hat.

It's also had some sort of indirect effect increasing my daily use of the English language. I remain cautious on that one. Several reasons or excuses could be rooted up and cooked into a soup for this: and I would list them here. Almost just did. Foremost, I would probably attribute this to a general grappling at social connections during the period of frosty, savory bleakness opposite to summer. Of course, interaction is still fully eesti keeles with Tuuliki and that's nothing I would ever want to alter. The wider composition of my daily, bi-daily and weekly social interactions has taken a turn towards the ex-pat community, however.

It isn't that this is a negative occurrence - I highly enjoy the poker nights, cocktail parties and random incursions in alcoholic beverage establishments. Furthermore, 'ex-pat' does not exclusively signify the English language holding dominance. I am able to edge Estonian back in with a good Finnish friend and I strive to splice up my usage while in mixed settings, much to the annoyance of those other outsiders who, although they have been here exponentially longer than I have, still struggle with the concept of a soft 'e' in 'tere'.

The course things have taken as of late also don't reflect a doldrums of my competency in the local lingua in any way. Estonian still maintains a majority holding of at least 70 percent of daily syllabic exchange. Odd how the twenty-percent loss can be so strongly recognizable, however.

I would gladly edge this up a bit, or at least be content to keep the majority Estonian and decrease the English component. Say, four percent more Russian than currently (i.e. monthly encounters with my racist Russian landlord, giving people the time at bus stops and refusing to buy bootleg vodka). Specifically, I'd really enjoy driving up my use of sámegiella (Sámi language) to the entire one percent in which I am bound by my current abilities in the tongue .

Although the English-language resurgence is not unpleasant and quite a good refresher (I do continue to claim that is my native language in terms of translating), I'm sure it will find its ebb with the coming of slight warmth to the breezes. In any case, it will certainly present some sort of revolting encounter as it usually does with foreigners and spin me back into the fray of cloudier linguistics. It was only a few months ago that some drunk Brit who strayed from the discouragingly permeable bounds of his stag party spent half an hour trying to convince me that Alexander the Great was an Estonian who led Russia to conquer the Baltic region. Although he did claim to know where he was located in the world at that particular moment (I asked him repeatedly) and what the hell he was talking about, the fact that he was mistaking 'Estonia' with 'Macedonia' and 'Baltics' with 'Balkans' seemed to escape him. Not unlike the neiud flitting past on the ice-packed streets. Sometime, sometime .. until then, another head shake and turn to converse with a pint.

Tagasi võõrkeelearendamise suunda..

Edasi, вперёд..

Frequality.

2010-01-25T12:36:00.001+02:00

I sense that some form of alternate media beckons. I generally don't feel like situating myself behind a laptop screen for expressing myself following several hours of doing that in a work-type environment, though I am downright brimming with that need for expression. Preferably one not sharing an interface with Facebook. True, I have lately returned to writing with real pen, ink, paper and beer-spill stains when it comes to interacting through letters. E-mails are for quick confirmations and necessary transfers of information. Their non-existence is far too transient to allow information to stick in my brain. There are a lot of things stuck there - a few pixels describing someone's child's activities last week or their new job aren't going to hang around in that dust trap for long. Committing something onto paper and receiving it back is much more fixated in every respect. I'm all about getting back to that. Plus, my laptop is bulky, I'm somewhat concerned I may get tetanus from it, the battery lasts for 1.2 minutes and in order to keep it plugged in, you have to pull back the power cord at a 180-degree angle and trap it under the keyboard to hold pressure on it so you can have your hands free. Mobility isn't its point of pride.

Maybe it's the approach of spring (which I usually try to ignore as annoying foreplay to summer). It could also be seeing the sun more than twice per week. It's definitely not the proper winter that surrounds, elbow-jabbing with its -30 C and loads of snow. I like that kind of winter - namely, one that at least embodies the seasonal term. In any case.. I feel like I'm standing on the bluffs in Tabasalu looking at the gulf, feeling the breeze and a slight pull forwards. It's that feeling of motion that I haven't sensed in a while though for which I constantly strive.. probably in vain, as it's similar to ordering a taxi at 2 AM. You can expect to get it sometime, but before then you have to stand on the corner and listen to the busy tone or, worse, a 5-second repeating 'musical' clip (ba-badada-badada-ba-babadada-ba-dada-badada-dadadaa). You will get through after a while, though there's no sense of time or progress involved in the operation.

The re-entrance of daylight into the concept of day will definitely bring more things - getting the bike fixed, being able to physically move farther than from my desk to downtown and back, fresh air here and there.. and the acquisition of my residency permit extension is also a great 'hurrah'. Double-fist-pump freeze-frame-air-jump followed by super-karate-kick. Take that, Citizenship and Migration Board. We shall meet once or twice more.

Taking pot shots at linguistic release.

Edasi, вперёд..

On the road again. (Taas teele.)

2009-12-13T22:45:00.007+02:00

I don't often have extremely vivid dreams which I also remember upon and after waking up. Bright morning lights (admittedly, quite absent this time of year before 10am) and a few necessary mugs of strong black English tea usually dissolute any traces my odd nighttime journeys might leave on the psyche. It's even rarer for me to remember specific people from these subconscious encounters. That said, I got pulled over for speeding in President Toomas Hendrik Ilves' car yesterday. That'll leave an impression.

My recollection of the dream picks up where I was walking down a street which was slightly raised from the sidewalk level and enclosed by dense greenery. A building with a glass facade came up on the right hand side and Tuuliki informed me that President Ilves was there. Oddly enough, a large German flag hung from the front of the building. A sign perhaps of impending re-Germanization of Estonia? Will Volkswagen or Siemens start buying up investments here as the Baltic Germans re-realize their drive to get their disparate feudal rights back? In any case, Tuuliki thought he might have gone on a 'trip' already (presumably to broker schnitzel imports), but upon peering down the embankment and through the trees, we spotted the Estonian blue-black-and-white faintly stirring in the breeze. Obviously, if both a German and Estonian flag are hung, that means Ilves is in the building. So we went to take a closer look.

I could see through the glass a lofty, darkened room with a single couch in the center facing the right wall with a gaping fireplace. A lone turvamees stared slightly indifferently from inside of the glass door and Ilves looked up as we approached. He beckoned us in as, obviously, we're that cool. As is he. The solitary guard in plain clothes let us brush past and we went to sit next to the President on the couch. My dreams are often filled with oddities and vague details; one of these was the carpeting directly in front of the couch. A long rut was worn into the (light-colored) 1970's urban-apartment sort of shag carpeting that reminds you of the number for Empire (and whether the representative has been cryogenically frozen yet). At one point in the worn-down pacing line, there was a deeper torn up circle of carpet, where Ilves apparently always spun abruptly and sat down during his back-and-forth sessions. I have no idea how I knew or noticed this, but the President sat directly in front of that chasm in the carpeting, so it wasn't a complicated deduction.

We sat around and bantered for a decent amount of time, and then as a result of dream-swish-swash and fogged transition, we were somehow a trio in Ilve's coal-black open-top jeep (which he of course loaned us) out on the open highway in a vast autumn tundra. Regardless of the fact that I was sitting alone in the backseat, I happened to also be the driver of the vehicle. I'm not sure whether it was because I was getting used to driving from the back seat, the confusing factor of a regular steering wheel and pedals in the front, or that I was still acclimating myself with being in a car suddenly opposed to the white three-person sofa in Ilves' dusky office; whatever it was, I quickly became aware that I was speeding. Intuition told me that the speed limit was around 50-70 km/h.. I was bumping at a full 140 at the least. Not that it was an unpleasant experience - opening up Ilves' personal jeep on a road straight and level enough to be in either South Dakota or Northern Finland (difference?) was worth the proximity of pedal to metal.

Being in a perfect dream state did however mean that worries quickly become reality, and as soon as the concepts of 'speeding' and 'law enforcement' came into my head at the same moment in time, I saw flashing lights ahead. While quickly trying to locate the back-seat brake pedal and have my way with it, I spotted a large police SUV - more fire brigade than actual trooper, but authority nonetheless - heading the opposite direction. A large (tundra) median separated the two lanes of traffic, though I was indeed the presumptive target and saw the car slowing at a U-turn lane. While I hoped in the familiar vain that my speed (now reduced to around 50 after locating the weak break) and its apologetic lower velocity might persuade the police to look the other way, I spotted a left-turn lane myself and moved into it.. I'm not going to lie and say that the thought of crossing over and speeding off into the sudden forest across the road didn't pop into my head. That was my only thought at the time. I was driving President Toomas Hendrik Ilves' coal-black open-top jeep, and I'm hoping to still get honorary citizenship from him some day.

Then I woke up.

Edasi, вперёд..

Tappity-tap.

2009-11-23T22:33:00.009+02:00

Snow will bring us together

I've noticed one thing in this beloved, oft-times frigid northern climate. Snow is the best means of integration and community. At least the first snowfall. Alas, this has melted off for now and the self-reassuring dreariness, fog and rain of the Baltic have extended their lease through the end of fall. Winter made a couple of advances a few weeks ago however, and it was fantastic to watch (and partake in) the aftermath. It seems that people drop their boundaries, at least temporarily, and catch sidelong glances and smiles of pure enjoyment at the odd tactile meteorological representation that lies about. People almost wrap themselves in it, and bring others into the fold. I went with Tuuliki to snatch some hõõgvein (the popular winter hot mulled wine) and head through upper vanalinn (Old Town) and my favorite park in the vicinity. Standing next to Pikk Hermann, I invented a contest throwing snowballs down onto the spotlights beaming up onto the ancient Danish fortress remains. A snowball fight which had earlier sputtered between us here and there came into full swing, and a few strays happened to bring a young Russian-Estonian couple into the cross-fire (well, 'stray' means that it wasn't exactly 'cross', but past Tuuliki or over her head and onto their apparel). I gave a short-breathed apology and they seemed jovial, so Tuuliki coaxed them into turning against myself. Our small three-on-one went on for a good five or ten minutes and provided me with some much-needed exercise darting and lurking behind trees (my usual mid-day exertion of energy is moving my leg from a crossed position to supporting my feet on the radiator and back, while the translations flood in).
It was a light, energetic experience that crossed out the awkwardness of language or deciding in which tongue to even communicate (I dropped some Estonian and shout some things in Russian at them while Tuuliki also seemed inadhered to a single linguistic array). The experience was short and mostly unspoken, but true and a demonstration of at least the possibility for such encounters. I plan to start further random wars with unknown passerbys through flinging objects at them that won't leave them wounded, unconscious or covered in any sort of unpleasant liquids. Summer will be the time for spontaneous pillow fights. Let it snow.

Living in a Soviet block is "boring" (bad pun).

So one thing that I have come to grips with living amongst crumbling stacks of concrete is that, regardless of how hopeless the buildings appear to be on the outside (and what you can assume to be the internal structure, which is quite an unnerving thought when you actually live there), someone is renovating. This word is used very loosely, as I highly doubt that the performance of the act dictates a real, formidable or even tactile outcome. Quite the opposite - 'remont' anywhere in the Soviet crack stacks really means drilling into any surviving bit of concrete to be found in the hopes of the entire building collapsing upon itself and the residents being sent to freshly constructed municipal housing. Panel construction means that the rusted rods which the remaining bits of concrete stick to resonate at every poke and prod from a drill, which on any given day someone will decide to implement in their endeavors. What I fail to understand and why I come to the conclusion that these home-repairers aren't actually doing anything is that I can't figure out exactly why they would find it necessary to incessantly make holes in the concrete. A few days ago this reached a new high - of course, during summer after moving to the apartment in 2008 I became accustomed to the fact that the screeching would reach its peak around eight or nine in the morning.. this time, however, it was at 10 in the morning, right as my daily stash of documents to be translated started to pour in, and this time seemingly just on the other side of the wall. Finding the source is tricky, though, and the ruckus happened to be coming from a man dangling from a rope attached somewhere on the roof, boring into the seams between the concrete slabs from the outside, one floor up and a few apartments across. Which made sense - the noise was using my eardrums as a timpani. I about quit work and ran out screaming after the first fifteen minutes. Luckily, it ended a bit later as they moved to the other side of the building to cave out more load-bearing material. The walls aren't the thickest or the most solid in the first place. There's an electrical socket next to our bed which seems to be fit into a hole opening up into the apartment next to ours. Were our neighbors extremely quiet or even head-banging trancers on ecstasy, it'd be one thing. However, the situation helps to make up for the fact that I disconnected the cable television a year ago - some crazywoman living there regularly decides to begin chanting, singing and generally werewolfing at three in the morning (six in the morning, two in the afternoon, seven at night.. there's not much of a pattern), shouting into the air (more like my electrical socket) for some long-lost relative to return so she can make her dinner - this is, naturally, accompanied by pot-banging from time to time and then the older man that lives there yelling at her to shut up and give it up already. I'm content with the fact that I extremely rarely run into either of them in our shared, empty hallway to the stairwell. There's been worse all in all and returning to the structural topic - I felt the entire building literally sway a few inches from side to side one day (the curtains moving helped me to figure out it wasn't just my body going into some sort of alcohol-relapse days after the actual drinking. It was probably just something collapsing in the limestone quarry across the road (further brilliant Soviet planning - build a massive residential district downwind of where tons and tons of dust are shot into the air from a large pipe 24 hours a day). No worries. It's Lasnamäe.

And with that, I announce plans to find a place in some wood-plank 1930's house in Kalamaja. I feel the urge to write about an adventure not involving the Migration Board. Curses on them; setting sights on the other end of the city and the shore of the sea.

Edasi, вперёд..

You be who?

2009-11-03T10:10:00.012+02:00

Preventing diversity only encourages local extremism.

That's what I've been trying to get out. Probably a statement I should have warmed up into, though early rising on Tuesday mornings to Russian electricians doesn't exactly cultivate deep analytic moods.

Take religious preferences approach, for example. I'm not a religious person by any means; if you don't count me watching Lost 'religiously' (that's more of an addiction) or 'religiously' having a cup of black tea before coffee in the morning in that category. As such, I actually blend into the average population better here in Estonia than in the US. The last time I was in Minneapolis, I was shocked by just how many places of worship dot just about every other streetcorner. It's a mode of power and social control yet deeply entrenched in American society - a more noticeable state expression of this (never mind that rumor of 'separation of church and state') is the Sunday ban on liquor sales in Minnesota. How does that regulation promote a free and fair economy? What reasons preclude the ban which are not associated with 'purity' or 'honoring' or 'values'; all of which tie right back into some sort of organized where-does-my-soul-or-thetan-or-whatever go after I've really just decomposed and enriched the soil for plant growth? Anything? Bueller?

I do support the right of everyone to peacefully believe what they believe and to act upon it in their own right, as long as its doctrine doesn't infringe upon the same of others. This, again, is the same diversity which is crucial to the health of a society. It's inherent, and in the absence of a very visible form, the society will turn upon itself to search out minute variations in the fold by which it can both differentiate and define itself. That said - although I disapprove of the lack of tolerance for non-religious types in the States, I'm also dissatisfied with the absence of tangible variation here in Estonia.

True, there is very little history of religious variation in Estonia as compared to more fiery, border- and formely empire-ridden parts of the world. Paganism, Christianity (via the Danes, Swedes and Germans) and Russian Orthodox (guess who) have been in practice. Hare Krishna (the musical procession may be seen on Raekoja plats every day at exactly 17:14) and Buddhism are in the wings along with Scientology and, I suspect, one or two Flying Spaghetti Monsterists. A grand seven Jews were left in the wake of the Holocaust in Estonia; not a widely-taught reality in history lessons. The first synagoge since WWII opened up on a Tallinn side-street a few years ago; brilliant architecture, classy restaurant, a few token Israelis and a lot of Russian speaking. I've yet to see any resemblance of a minaret in the city alongside the towers of Tallinn's city walls. I somewhat doubt any are in the making.

According to the Estonian Statistics Board, there were 1,387 Muslims in the country in 2000 (on a side note, it's interesting that there isn't a link for 'Religious preference' under the social statistics section of the web page - no preference means not making it into an issue and less of a problem. Or is that just the lack of noticeable diversity again?). I'm sure at least half of them are forced to be on call to interrogate any would-be dark skinned and bearded arrivals at the airport. Not that Estonians have any deep-seeded racist tendancies or outward fears, though they easily could. Exposure to diversity is incredibly low and very, very few people are even open to the idea of considering stepping it up.

A few weeks ago, Estonia announced that it would decline a request from the European Commission that it participate in a migrant-relocation program. Basically, migrants mainly washing up on the shores of southern member states granted asylum would be found a home and support in other member countries (who pledged to help each other upon acession .. right?). I'm not entirely clear on how much in assistance funding would be acquired towards these purposes from the EU proper, though let's take a look at why Estonia turned this down, ey?

"Estonia is not planning to take part in the relocation program because the state of our budget does not allow it and our society is not ready for this today."
Uku Särekanno, Estonian Representative to the EU

Oh, right, not 'today'.. next week, maybe. Just the fact that it was slipped in as a side-note and not admittedly presented as the main cause drives me mad. If you're going to say it, don't preclude it with a bullshit excuse. Say the bullshit excuse, or say the truth - both don't cooperate well together in the same sentence. Estonia is afraid of differences, and it is exactly this fear that will hold the country and the society back from accepting and appreciating them. Yes - not all Estonians are the same by any standard and it's amazing how tribal affiliations are still celebrated and promoted.. this is something I think should only deepen and become richer in form.. however, allowing immigrants to come in and experience the give-and-take of integration will not threaten or abolish these ties. It will only give them an even greater value as people confront the commonalities and differences between them and other races and life approaches.

Employment Escort

2009-10-27T21:21:00.003+02:00

Were I inclined to research deeply and expansively write on failed economic tactics, I’d be gearing up for a rave of it here in Tallinn. It would be in the form of a self-help book for local governments - “How not to create sustainable jobs and save yourself from future financial rape” might be the title. Tallinn’s cancerous mayor, Edgar Savisaar, would of course be propositioned to write the foreword. If he declined, I’d settle for something from, say, a muskrat or a boar. It’d be of about the same content and provocation.

Even before the fore-expected and disheartening results of the local elections came to light, I wanted to write on the idiotic and populist form that job-creation has taken under the city government. Namely, the highly-publicized and visible position of ‘reisisaatja’ (‘trip escort’). The responsibilities of this quite challenging position (in terms of staying awake) include standing/sitting in the fore-end of a public transport vehicle (bus/tram/trolley bus), staring dully out a window/sleeping/being passed out/talking with the driver/friends/narcotics addicts, and occasionally (in my estimation, once every ten years) selling tickets to passengers. Under the previous system before the taxpayer was graced with the ‘reisisaatja’, they had to buy their tickets from the driver if they hadn’t already picked one up from a kiosk or loaded up monthly passes on their ID-card. This form of cash-ticket transaction occurred very rarely. Oh, and the bus driver is still there now. So, remind me again - why are we paying for this?!

Unemployment is staggering for a country, and a city, of this size. However a word which was left out of city government discussions when locating budgetary funds for ‘emergency’ jobs was ‘sustainability’. When the crisis is deemed as over or the transport department’s budget needs to be cut back further, this will be the first to go. What, may I ask, will we have gained from this? What skills can these dull-eyed just-making-it-by employees add to their CVs (which, I might add, they have enough time for putting together while circling around the municipal area on bus number 5)? If their employment and minimum-wage salaries are restricted to the transportation sector to avoid hassle of switching out funds between budgets, then why are they doing such a useless ‘service’? It’s not like conditions are so pristine that I’d be happy to eat something off of the bus floor or to even rest my head against the Plexiglas window next to me. They’re not controlling tickets to make sure that the bus is actually accruing revenue. The system runs no smoother than before. So.. why? For minimum salary (which, I might add, is dangerously close to what I make working two jobs with flashier titles), I’ve seen enough forests, fields, bogs and beaches around the city that could be cleared of rubbish.

Even better - if the funds were to be untangled from static budgetary totals, the city could still support a minimum salary for the workers while offering them up to local companies in which their skill backgrounds match up. Thus, an auto-repair worker could be paid the exact same to help out at a local garage where, while demand may not have decreased, prices and salaries have - thus they continue to improve their own skills, make contacts and build a base at a place with no hassle to the employer (the state support still covers their health care and other social taxes). Current employees at the location wouldn’t be slammed with fewer hours or lower wages, as for all the employee is concerned - the previous bus-rider is a new, possibly temporary and basically volunteer worker on site. Production increases, costs straight-line.

Is it still too late to run for mayor?

A more in-depth post to come..

Edasi, вперёд..

That one.

2009-10-12T22:13:00.005+03:00

Approach is everything, really. I've been mulling around for some time how to let this series of thoughts come forth in words or actions; the only.. well, not 'flat' exactly - we'll say 'delay' - was in exactly this aspect. My life-friend Erinn put it into faceable reality in her blog "Planned Movements" by saying this:

Fixation (when it comes to problems) = Stagnation
Fixation (when it comes to creative thoughts) = Thick and exciting new ideas

Right on. I had a burst of the latter method of energy focus for a short period of time today. It's been a while since it atmoized together in such a form, and it left me in a peculiar state following of near-despaity in polarity (also a good name for a band, song, or shot).

Erinn's always had a fantastic way of painstakingly writing things out; documenting, order-putting, jostling things into realization. I've often flirted with the approach, bought it movie tickets and then made it pay for its own box of popcorn and take the bus back home. Today I realized that it's been a while; I should really call 'planning' back up and make some basic commitment. Like any relationship with a hope for continuity, this will take some practice and back rubs. I wrote out a list of means which I plan on undertaking in developing myself. Cultivating myself and the sphere in both my immediacy and hinterlands. Here's the basic layout:

Enda Arendamine (Personal Development.. I'll write the rest out here in continual English)

Eesmärgid (alright, starting now)

Writing - Blog (at least once per week), Articles (topics? - could be closely related with blog - language/s?), Literature (Book? Shorts?)

Proficiency of languages - New (Sámi, Swedish?, Finnish?), Upkeep (Русский), Translation and reading (Eesti) - more translating work? Blog?

That's about as far as I got.. farther, actually, as I added a bit more just now as the development rides forth. It still closely resembles my style of mental (not physical - physical ordering is a natural requirement in living spaces) organization, if that phrase even checks out logically in my case. Logic I implement; organization in a loose, person or event-oriented and often longer-term sense. This beginning of a crack at furthering myself is, of course, long-term in its element. All the same, these two designations are themselves fluid and unreliable in any sense. Probably won't be long (a few minutes ago) and I'll have left this fruitless task of time-framing to itself.

Basically I only sketched out the 'list' to momentarily clarify for myself and leave a scrap as a reminder, keeping this as a recipient of momentum. Following my near-immediate delusion when considering in what method to come at personal development, I spent a bit of time reminiscing about when I worked in a large department store and the comfort of being told what to do, having simple tasks and a simple way to cross a line through them and classify the definition of 'completion'. I absolutely prefer the job I have now (translating) and the direction it is taking to those mindless past modes of receiving necessary pieces of paper; it's the adapting which is working its way into habit. Again, I worked well at this in a university setting and this may just be the post-graduation sight-setting, regardless that it is taking shape a few years later. It's a true thing, though: meangingfullness of actions is as necessary as breathing; inhalation just is spaced out somewhat more apart.

Redirection of energy is the question at hand.. not even always 'redirection' - more a refocusing, a refining, a tweaking, a resurge in the bubbling tide pool. I've felt as though my productivity has been in and out of that tide pool and know that sometime soon it will hit the current again. Re-enter the question of time.. less a question, more of a determination. Part of this lies in my own doings, hence the list and the brief frenzy of expectation that if I start taking action immediately it could be tomorrow that accomplishment takes a firmer footing. Possibly so. Worth the effort; most things are.

Edasi, вперёд..

Joy riding (Jag kör.. god kväll, Sverige!)..

2009-09-26T13:05:00.007+03:00

So we're hitting up Selver (the local Estonian-origin supermarket) and stocking up on choice alcoholic beverages for - that's right - taking a trip across the Baltic. Estonians really only buy alcohol for travel or birthdays; it seems like more because someone knows someone who has a birthday on literally every day of the year. Don't be fooled - it remains for such wave-riding activities or drinking one into forgetting that they're drinking away more years of the lives they are celebreating. Ah, tradition.

I've had the deep-centered drive to really travel for a good time now. It's closing up on the one-year anniversary of the last time I was in the States, and it'll hit another halfway before I sate that desire. Still, I've been more than wanting.. anticipating, really, travel. The experience, the rushing by of everything around, unfamiliarity and distance. Everything around you stays the same only for the people who are rooted into the shifting present. Your 'present' stretches ahead, around, flutters and takes random new directions as the seconds turn. Time itself allows itself out of its accepted bonds. I've been looking towards the horizon, pursuing this for a while. Now we finally locked down extremely cheap round-trip tickets to Rootsi (Sweden). It'll be an unfortunately quick Stockholm day trip and a two-night Tallink ship trip, though still exactly .. that. It'll be difficult not to just flash a card at a bus station and take transport north, to forego that which is the norm; crystallized plans and obligations and whatnot, and to just focus on the greater, more encompassing migration that is life.

Edasi, вперёд..

Over the border (ülepiirile)..

2009-09-22T21:50:00.006+03:00

I think a topic that I'd like to write/blog/Twitter/moan on about more often is that of immigration. Alright, I do have a bit of a weak spot for it given two factors - A) It was a central facet in my senior thesis at the University of Minnesota, and B) I am an immigrant (i.e. I have a weak spot because it doesn't empower me or even sight me up as indifferent). One can quickly and easily read where my prejudice lies in the matter.

I've recently been involved in a spate of media coverage (spate in my world means a total of two, which is more than any other coverage I've had at a single time): a quite extended article (with extensive commentary resulting) was written for Eesti Päevaleht, which is a main Estonian daily (well, mine came up on the internet in the middle of a work day). The other stemmed off from this article and was a television interview, aired as the first story on TV3's 19:00 news programme. I've raged on here and there about the ridiculousness of the Estonian Citizenship and Migration Board and will spare any unfortunate reader from another tirade here. To also give a rest to my fingers and your eyes if you so choose, here are links to the original article, my translation, and the TV 3 programme (if it's still posted, which I doubt.. look for "16/09/2009 Uudised") .

Right, so that's the motivation. Well, the sparks for motivation. I'm confident that somehow, after much grinding of the teeth and shaking of heads and soft carressing sounds of the escaping of air from lifted beer caps.. I'll get an extension of my residency permit or, even more likely, an altogether new one. The reason for a new permit and not an extension will be changing the circumstances on which the permit is founded - naturally, I don't earn 24 percent more than the average Estonian salary in 2008 (which includes pre-recession figures) as the Migration Board demands, so it'll have to come by other means. Like I said, I'll find a way through friends or sham companies or board appointments or loans or - if it really, really came down to it - signing certain papers (with the approval of a second party, of course.. again: not a light decision for anyone and not a first choice or thing to be trifled with. No trifling here or there, none of that now.). There is some way, and it'll come clear soon.

What does interest me is the overall struggle which I and so many other foreigners who feel unbound by their location of birth must endure. Freedom of movement is a concept which has fluttered in and out of acceptance with time - those who have felt it worse than I ever could here include the Sámi in northern Norway, Sweden, Finland and those alcohol-and-Stalin-ravaged few left in Russia. At one time they followed the reindeer, then lines appeared on paper without taking the concept of nomadism into account, and now finally it has returned to the ease with which it once was for them.. again, excluding Russian policies. Similar lines have been drawn all over in Africa, the Caucuses, Latin America, North America and so forth.. with similar results for those on the 'border'. The case which I have personally encountered is of course nothing like this - mine is of choice and graciously granted by international agreements on movement of people. However, the conditions which restrict and, at times, attempt to eliminate these re-fought freedoms are something of which I have become increasingly critical. Enough to, say, write more articles, refocus my interest in a master's degree or currently set more water to boil for tea and drone on within the realm of this blog. All of the above options remain brilliant and another way to exercise my right to free speech, fuckers.

A suspicion concerning the terms of Estonia's new immigation 'provision' (as if it really 'provides' anything) dawned upon me today while recanting the entire residency permit debacle to a friend. Small detail, yes. Just a number, yes. All numbers still come from something. I want to believe and would love to find out proof of the origin of this specific set of arabic numerals, however. The legal addition states that foreigners living in Estonia on the basis of work must earn at least the average national salary as determined by the Statistics Board from the year previous times a coefficient of 1.24 - basically, nearly 1/4 more than the "average" salary (which does not make amends for the lack of breadth in the middle class). Alright - horrible law, yes.. if Sweden and Finland both enacted such laws (yes, illegal by EU standards but bear with the example), some 60-70 thousand Estonian nationals would find themselves in my situation. Bon-fucking-jour. All the same .. 1.24; almost 1/4, or 25%. Almost. Why almost? What is this, a national version of Nescafe? Almost coffee but disgustingly still not in any interpretation of the word? Why 24 percent more? The number rang a bell, though.. it's dangerously close to the percentage of Russian-ethnicity people living in Estonia. According to the Statistics Bureau, this figure has actually come out to .256 percent of the total population in the last two years. So as for preciseness, it would be ridiculous to claim that the government would use such a snub. However the main problem remains - I and many others believe that the immigration policy is openly hostile to Russian speakers. Given, there are serious problems associated with this. No less, it doesn't call for or justify spray-firing the general immigrant population in order to pressure a reverse migration towards the East.

Estonians are a bit shaky on the 'Estonian-Russian' issue. Most people who know anything about it are. However, the correct solution is not to use the populist targeting of non-nationals which is so deeply entrenched in current policies. If the population fears a loss and diminishing of the Estonian language, make this a requirement for extension of residency permits. As of current standings, this only applies to citizenship and lightly to applications for permanent residency (which also demands the person to have lived here for at least five years on temporary permits). Universal linguistic standards, however basic, would help to assuage those worried about a 'foreign invasion' (also very unlikely, given that permits are only set aside for those from countries other than the US, Canada or Japan in the number of 0.1 percent of the national population) and at the same time promote interest and motivation for acquiring the skills necessary to productively live long-term in the country. Is that so difficult?

I'll work on cleaning these thoughts up and putting them in some sort of coherent logical order, possibly direct it towards some sort of letter, article or other publication. That is, once I succeed in sorting out and securing my own end in the matter. Bring it on, Migration Board. I should go gather some reindeer just to make a statement.. and save money on bus fares.

Aaaand -- cut.

Edasi, вперёд..

Northern winds (tuuled põhja poolt)

2009-09-16T10:02:00.007+03:00

I realized that I need to rejilt my efforts in doing certain things - writing these sorts of accounts being one of them. As fall sets in and winter is flashing signs from across the room, I also need to get out and take full use of the weather allowing one to be in the elements without a head bent down from the biting wind. Time spent not sitting and making my fingers dance all-too familiar jigs with words as the applause is a time spent somewhat more creatively. However, this same sort of creation that flows now is one that is also on my forming list of positive responses. Work is also a form of devising and expressing, though one that pegs me into a specific set of results - not too specific, and actually quite too large at times - though a locking down of efforts is still the general process, and one that I feel the need to resist or break off from for several hours a day. Regardless of in what language(s) this appropriates itself in, it is a still quietly holding a beckoning eye contact.

Abstractions are often too much too-muching. I understand that I also write and phrase this paradox - still - now - in the current. That's one I can deal with. Others start to wear, become all too tiring and endlessly constant. Alright, I only really have one in mind - money. Secondly would probably come (though it should likely be first as well) bureaucracy, relating to the situation with my residency permit (which I think I still have), though that's one I'm comfortable sidelining for now as so abstract in worries and possibilities that mention of it makes my brain want to open a beer and sit by the sea. Something with which I'm happy to follow suit. Money, though, is such an abstraction which is so fundamentally accepted and necessary, washing out the basic root of the situation - I need to eat, be clean, warm and in a good mood. After following thousands of different routes and forms, this comes out to be the same thoughts in unrecognizably variant forms. Starting sometime soon, I have to allocate somewhere near/over EEK 1,000 per month to stock Tallinna Küte (Tallinn Heating)'s coffers - for what? Endlessly cycling water (which I can't control) heated up and baking the air in a small corner of my apartment? Few hours and an axe would take care of that. Likewise, I'm going to have to sign myself up for a monthly bus pass (~EEK 260) soon, replacing how I currently buy the 10-pack (EEK 90) and sit next to the clamper-dealie so that if municipal police come on board to check, I'm golden. Given, I actually stamp or clamp with no firm instigation once or twice a week, just to show my appreciation and support for continuance of the transport system. At the same time; a few hours moving and walking, whatever the weather (also a good Dionysos song), snow or rain or sun or whatever, would also take care of that. Living next to the sea would give me the view, a lake the water and fish, trees the fuel and windcover. Alright, yeah, I've been watching "Кукушка" ("Käki" in Suomi, "The Cuckoo" in worldish) again, and will probably set it up to run again sometime tonight. Not sure if I've gone on about the film here, but, let's go for it now.

It's set in Sámpi (Saamimaa, land where the Sámi people live in northern Finland, Sweden, Norway and a bit of Russia, at least those who have survived Stalin and alcoholism, which go hand in hand), where in 1944 a Finnish sniper (former university student) decides to refuse to fight, after which he is chained to a rock. At the same time as he is working on freeing himself (big spoiler: he does), a Russian (Soviet) soldier is court martialed and being driven to get shot - Russian planes mistaking the convoy for an enemy take care of that and leave him wounded on the side of the road. A Sámi woman finds the Russian soldier and drags him back to her camp, where she lives alone.. her husband was taken years earlier and she's faced with the basics of sustaining herself and the reindeer in the northern lands. The Finn finds the camp, searching for tools to get the rest of the chain off his leg. Thus the crux of the story, where none of the three speak the language of the other, but find a common realization in their humanity and the basic, constant need to survive and -live-. At one point, the Sámi woman looks at the Finn's hands and says "Your hands are soft, they're not used to men's work. Killing people isn't work." Maybe it's over-simplified, but sometimes I re-realize that I want to do work - the kind that matters and is sustainable. Alright, I also realize that the pillars of capitalism and trade are in one light or another good and provide a lot which me putting myself to the fringes of I would miss. Long-distance travel to see friends and other lands, much of what the internet offers and reading and film and music and news and beer and bread and.. yeah, lots of things that being on the edge of the world would be difficult without that recurring issue of money and earning it. At least I can say I've always 'earned' it and not just 'gotten' or 'made' it. Still, in the interest of preserving the capitalist system (which is the best anyone has found, despite the constant need to improve and develop it), I'd simply like to acknowledge this and have more. Ironic that if I had loads of money, I'd most likely use it to live a somewhat variated life - lots of elements of living basic and sustainably, and a few of the benefits of a life doused in the other mode of living.

Circles and circles and circles and circles..

Edasi, вперёд..

Gerfrumbled

2009-08-26T10:07:00.009+03:00

The last few days have seen me filled with some sort of relentless, unchanneled and restless energy. Feels as though I could run, bike, kayak, travel, Maro Kart, fucking - whatever - my way somewhere or at doing something. My eyes rove the horizon, the sea, the clouds and whatever other sort of receding distance that appears. And I haven't even had my coffee yet this morning.

Summer reached its full-horned crescendo over the last month. We (Tuuliki and I, as always) took a trip for a week to Germany; out to Köln in the West. Apart from some slight stress during travel (Tuuliki is utterly afraid of flying and all notions of it, thus we made it out there using this mode of travel and came back by 2-day bus. No problems at all, and aside of my knees aching I was ready for a bus ride straight back to Köln if it would have been without cost!), the trip itself was fantastic. She has some friends who study there and have a comfortable, extremely space efficient apartment in the downtown gay district (near Rudolfplatz). They left on holiday after a few days and gave us the keys to the place for the rest of the week, which was fantastic. €1 boxes of iced coffee and smoked cheese: delightful. We plan on actually moving there next year for the period of about a year so Tuuliki can study architecture somewhere there. I can do the translating bit anywhere and, seeing as Germany is actually somewhat cheaper than Estonia in some respects, the salary should see me by. It'll be good to have another switch-up for some time and still be able to speak Estonian all day long (I will start learning some German though, just to make myself bearable in conversation without making up words and repeating 'leiderhosen' multiple times!).

T spent the next week after we were back in Russia on a compulsary visiting of relatives, which gave me a bit of insight whilst sitting in the apartment drinking wine and watching shows most of the evenings.

I realized that, aside of her, I really don't have any really close friends here. Not for anyone who might be from Estonia and a friend of mine reading this to take any offense - I do have some friends, and decent ones at that. Though it's nothing on the same level as back in the Cities or those people who have scattered a bit around the States. If I switched my phone to a plan that gave me free calls to Tuuliki, my monthly mobile bill would be at 0. Excluding the single call to my landlord or work-related minute-long conversations. This isn't the fault of anyone, just an unfortunate component of the wider, very fortunate situation. I can call people up to go get a beer, sit and have a decent time talking with them. We can talk about deep things, share personal exchanges - yes. Though I know they won't call me, and it's not anywhere near the sort of time that is a beer between me and Jon, me and Tori, Scott, Mel, Heather, Spencer, Monica, Ian, Berko, Erinn, Kim, Katie, Sarah, Shannon, Sam, Cade, Marta and Ben, Becca, Molly, Nick, Luc, Mike, Megan, Rick, Pete and Ernie, Andy, Lindsey, Nikki, Annie.. you know, I could sit and write names of more of you who deserve to be here and who are reading this in the north and those not in the north for hours. And then rewrite them. A drink for all of you would almost be too much for the liver - though that's something I'd be ready to try for!

This is probably the main source of my shifting energies and urges to crank up Benny Benassi right now. I don't deny that's what I'm doing right now.

Tuuliki is who and what I've been looking for a long time in life (yeah yeah, mushy gag and barf, and yes I just used that word) and that's as much of a notion of committment that I can muster now. I've also realized why I came back, though. How I see and translate Estonia (and any other place for that matter) is now through the eyes of 'us', and it's incredible. It's enough and then some to make plans to buy an apartment here sometime real, to move together to another country for some time, to do everything that comes around. Along with this, I do deeply miss my English-language friends and brothers (or should I say frére). I don't want to and won't be moving back to the States anytime in the near or even distant future, however the friendships and bonds I have there, which I know will continue and even mature in the meantime, are hardcore important and a deep part of me.

I'm still listening to Benassi. And now I'm going to go 'downtown' (had to start putting that in quotes once I reaquainted myself with a city the size of a .. city) and donate some blood. The two go hand in hand, really.

Back at it.. Taas tööle..

2009-07-24T10:52:00.011+03:00

On ammugi olnud.

It's been a while, one could say in several different languages, with several different expressions and while watching several different almost-sunsets. One could say, and I do say. As much as it is a foreign experience, the whole process of 'growing up' (more or less) and what seems to be steady work and the semblance of 'married life' (no literal implications there - yet) and everything else that silts through and through is somewhat of an exhilarating one. Sometimes sand in a current pauses momentarily behind a larger stone and then tumbles ahead; sometimes that grain may start up an island. No way to predict, and no wish to do so.

It seems though several factors beckon in every direction, even pull at times. If you choose to willingly follow or linger, it's still a choice and an inner committal. What would my initial words and thoughts have been if I could have seen years ago through a window the life that's positioned around me and in my wake? I'm looking at what I'm writing (more or less, as I usually don't think about it!) and the things around it: my work e-mail account for translating open (and causing me twitches as I wait for the next few pages to be drilled out before the next deadline as others continue to pile up) in the browser, along with two different Estonian-English dictionaries and a physical one by my side. I'm on the balcony with everything set next to collected sea stones on a table brought over from Finland's IKEA on the boat. Two bikes ahead of me keeping me company; one a silver retro German bike with the name "Лайка" on the side, the other a sportier Italian one nestled into mine, which is Tuuliki's. Coffee next to the window by my side, from where I watch the passing layers of cloud crowds in the meteorological airport of the sky, framed by greenery of basil, coriander, lemongrass and salad plants in aluminum pots. Armin van Buuren is buzzing in the background with last week's trance set, trying to softly drown out the sound of mining from the canyon across the road.

Would that have been easy to come up with, to interpret? What's through the window to another few years from now? I can't expect anything to be very similar in the future; I don't even recognize that as a minute possibility any more. What is constant are people: friends who I haven't seen in years though still write to, friends who I haven't seen in months and yearn for more time with, the few I keep friendly contact with in the near surroundings, and Tuuliki, with whom the future of everything is definitely very deeply intertwined.

I can propose some things that might be in that port hole gazing towards that which will be. Friends remain a constant, as does my partner. Living space will change, as will location, though not radically (looking for a place on the other side of the city, somewhat on the fringe and near the sea). Work has found the beginnings of its constant; I've become a full-time translator, and as the hours of experience grow, so does competency and further motivation to take on bigger projects in the field with hopefully sustainable and widening salaries. The only sure uncertainty is concerning our plants.. heading to Germany for a week at the beginning of August, which is another way to say that we're going to test their drought-handling capabilities. Estonian skies, letters from friends and paragraphs back towards them, multi-lingual dictionaries and a certain fiery blue-eyed someone born in the Chinese year of the dragon with earth (found out I'm tiger and fire.. not sure why that Google search came into fruition last night!) are the constants, the people and functions that interpret and define the rest of the lot of variables and such just flowing through.

Need to lighten this post up a bit.

Poop.

That's better.

Edasi, вперёд..

Ööpäike (Night-sun).

2009-06-22T10:21:00.007+03:00

Nii. Legs are feeling it. Lungs are breathing it.

The full swing of a Scandinavian summer is more than in the wings. Actually as of .. yesterday (Pööripäev), it's officially here. And as of tomorrow, the waking up at 4-something to 10-something sunlight starts its recline. Much work is at hand as well, though we've been striving (together with Tuuliki.. I haven't started speaking in monarch-style. Yet.) to cycle and paddle it into the background for as long of periods as possible.

I take back all talk of possibly selling Лайка (Laika, my bike) in favour of a sportier, forward-leaning springed and multi-geared version. No more. Although she's as old as the Soviet space program (most likely), she's also as eye-raisingly durable as it (though appearance and funding may show otherwise!). Yesterday she definitely proved herself.. adventure details are as follows.

I own a telk (tent) (as anyone reading my posts on Pärnu a year ago may remember) and a magamiskott (sleeping bag). Both bought on the same day from very discount locations. Both are flipping awesome as well. Worked out getting off of work for a few concurrent days with Tuuliki, and we decided to head out into the woods. Well, bog.

Tuuliki's cousin had a lõpetamine pidu (graduation party) somewhere outside of Kohila, so we figured a drop in on that and spin out for some camping would be fantastic. Oh, and it was. Took the train to Kohila (costs as much as a bus ticket if you buy it from the driver, i.e. more expensive than a regular bus ticket.. I resolve to make more use of trains soon) and biked out from there. Passed up buying beer until we made it closer to the campsite, which we later found out to be a misfortune, as the closest store on that end of the trip closes at 4pm on weekends. Makes sense, right? No one puts their party shoes on after that time on a Saturday.. Anyways, found out the place while evading wild dogs and enjoyed some kuklid (sort of like biscuits) and grilled sausages while playing the relative-get-together-game for a while. Got my ass kicked in a basketball shoot-out by her drunk uncle, who then started calling himself Jordan non-stop. I put smiles on faces, that's me. After escaping from the madness (and after enjoying a fucking a m a z i n g kringel made by her vanaema), we rode once more past the dogs ready to break-dance our legs into chew toys and headed for Järlepa järv (lake). After long length, found our way past the mõis (local mansion once belonging to the Baltic German feudal lords), locked up the bikes together for the night and ran cheering into the bog. Words drop out of usefulness in describing this part of the journey.. absolutely brilliant, it became. Found a dry spot (more like the dry spot) about half-way around, facing the sunset (a phrase used somewhat lightly, as it doesn't exactly get dark again for more than 5 minutes until late July), with the door a meter at most from the waves lapping silently into moss. Made Tuuliki a pro with her first bear-bag, roasted some õllevorstid (beer sausages) and burgsid, and.. well.. breathed it all in. Deeply.

Next day made it onto the 'road' (another lightly-used term, and something that makes me wildly proud of Laika's performance given the fact that I can see the stitching under the tires in some places) around noon, bidding a 'tšau' to Järlepa järv and the two residential swans (and five ducklings and two ducks and a billion tadpoles and the signs of põhjapõder (reindeer) and metssiga (boar) we found around the tent), and in wistful glances at the place as long as this sentence, headed in a south-east by north'ish direction. In avoiding big roads, we found out what the different styles of lines on the map meant. The one we took initially, for example, is described on the legend as being something used about 150 years ago for logging and now is mainly just a jumble of rocks. Incredibly beautiful, and despite running through situations in my mind of how long it would take to hike back to civilization and find a bike tyre the deeper we got in, it was.. well, still incredibly beautiful. Made our way basically all the way around the lake and bog and mets and such on that road, which took us to Oru; another 'town' with an old mõis, school, and jumble of Soviet communal farm buildings (well, another light term: more roof than building in some cases. In Soviet times, you made use out of what you could get your hands onto. This architect got roof pieces.). From there, Tuhala. Amidst gathering storm clouds, we peered into the Nõiakaev ('Witch's well') and loaded ourselves up with some natural energy from an energiasammas (energy-post.. in a spiky editorial I'd like to write, I'd very much propose replaing the Vabadussõja võidusammas due to be opened tomorrow with one of the log posts as in Tuhala.. much more fitting and much less of a fucking annoyance). From there, made our way back off of our shortly-enjoyed asphalt and onto a mid-quality gravel road for a long though equally fantastic bout.

It should be mentioned that in almost no, I repeat, no small Estonian town, both to my and Tuuliki's aggrivation, can be found as much as a bar to order a bowl of instant noodles from, much less small restaurant or .. anything. HahahahhahaAAARRRRRR.

Journey went something like Tuhala-Nabala-Lähtse-Kiili-Mõisaküla-Kurna-Jüri-Lasnamäe. Altogether at least some 55 km. And a delicious Puls ingveri õlu to follow (ginger beer). All with Tuuliki. Here's another spot where words take their leave.

Brief Estonian recap: Rongiga Kohilasse, rattaga Järlepasse siis sissemine rappa ümber järve, seiklusemine, telgimise kohta leidmine, telkimine, siis tagasi Järlepasse, mingi metsatee ringi Orusse, Tuhalasse (nõiakaev), Nabalasse (pärast aega ja tormi), Kiilisse, Jürisse (ka pole mingit kuradit restoranit) ja lõppuks Tallinnasse. Homme: Vääna-Jõesalusse! Uued kummid? Vist mitte.. sõidame ikka edasi!

Today: some work. Grudgingly, hurried, necessary.

Tomorrow: Jaanipäev!!

Somewhere in the blog archives should be attempted recants of last year's. What is tomorrow.. I rest even attempting to ette kujuda (.. mm.. jah.) the living. Heading to somewhere around Vääna-Jõesuu, mere ääres (next to the sea).. Saun, sõbrad, vorstid, õlu, päikeseöö .. ja kõik koos Tuulikiga.

I'll make attempts to translate all of that as everything goes forth. Literary expression always follows in the wake, though.. it's the 'then' .. the inexpressable and uncatchable moment which carries the full interpreted meaning and warmth.

Edasi, вперёд..

Põgus (transient).

2009-05-25T11:34:00.004+03:00

Summer is at hand, fresh news abounds, and as such, my posting here has been somewhat scarce.

I have a new jalgrattas (bike).. well, new meaning it was made in Germany sometime in the 70's.. named Лайка (Laika). All those unaware may check Wikipedia for the Russian historical reference.

We (meaning myself in the same boat as Tuuliki) have also bought a paat (small inflatable, rowable raft.. get the pun?!) and already made a few trips on it. First was on the sea, which was incredibly calm until a good meter out, when we made discoveries to the absolute seaworthiness of its form. Gained the name 'Laineke' (little wave) from the maiden voyage, and our near hypothermia. Took it down Pirita jõgi (Pirita river) yesterday, on the way to the sea. Three hours and almost made it.. handles rapids well, though being a raft and not a canoe as I am used to, somewhat interesting to steer. Thunderstorm and a necessary portage put a pause on the voyage (plus having to work), though it will come to completion.

We have around 40 salat plants and 15 basilika growing on the balcony. I want to eat them. Now.

Tori's coming. If Falklanders don't eat her first. That means Soome on Saturday!I know what you're thinking: that oddly looks like Estonian President Toomas Hendrik Ilves and King Juan Carlos I of Spain, and their wives Evelin Ilves and Queen Sofia are problably close behind, and it seems like its right outside of Saiakang kohvik (where I work), and that, well, Aadam probably made cappuccino/espresso machiatto milk for them when they stopped in. Well, you're oddly correct. This time.

Sun is up until 1 and the breeze is warm.. that means an entire post on trip plans using every possible device supporting mobility!

Seems a good close for this Twitter-style update. Like I wrote: breeze is warm.. beer and park before work places the Shiraz trump on the like of it all. Sõna (word).

Edasi, вперёд..

A.

Kevad schmedad (Spring.. schming?).

2009-04-01T11:05:00.003+03:00

Uffah.

I feel as though I contain a tumbling bluster of news-ish and straight unconnected statement-ish items that would fold nicely into a post such as this. I've been far too uninformative and very much wound this way and that. Given that I'm sort of procrastinating before going for a run (first of the year, if you don't count the running every day as a slave to peoples' consumerist whims), this post probably won't account for anything much and is a run-up in the up-running to upping and/or wakeboarding my way through expression. Have at it. News style.

Job is job. Work dominates an abundance of time (topped out at 78 hours a few weeks back), and time not working becomes guilt. Haige (sick), eh?

Apartment is fantasticalicrious. Brilliant, if you prefer a real word. Still in the same place as was nearing a year back (Soviet stack with no maple syrup, just pigeon refuse). Tuuliki bought drapes (just in time, as the sun is rapidly laying a smack-down on the night already) and we spent a morning moving furniture, so the place very much looks and feels like minu, like mine. Problem: far too expensive. Landlord is demaning prices the same as of, well, one year back. Before the housing bubble became a crater (to go off-topic, the big non-economic news of late was a meteorite falling through ice in a lake. Woozah!). To illustrate, when putting in the same statistics for my apartment as now (34 m2, backwoods of Lasnamäe (the Russian-language dominated banlieue, about a 25 minute bus ride to downtown), no washing machine, one room, and with keskküte (central heating) that amounts to an additional 1/3 of rent, or in laymans terms, an ass-intrusion, in the winter), the majority of apartments which show up for the same terms also show up with nearly 1/3 of the price per month. I've tried to debate with friendly, slightly racist and sexist though very accomodating in a landlord position, Dima, to no avail. Wait, avail was begotten. 500 kroon discount from rent. When I talk about places being a third of the price, I'm already using that figure. One more month for debate, and then it's off to a different section of the city, with all 2-3 boxes of my posessions in tow. Plus the bottle of Leedu (Lithuanian) herbal liquor, Läti (Latvian) herbal liquor, Vana Tallinn (Eesti liquor), ginger wine, Baileys (Tuuliki oma), and two bottles of vodka in the freezer. Respectable!

Tuuliki. Well, everything in this circle of the sky is fantastic. We spent a weekend in Tartu early last month and are sending warning flares over Soome signaling our imminent arrival for a day, most likely laupäev (Saturday). Few hours on the ferry, then IKEA and H&M will know our presence. Hoping to score a car as well to see some non-Helsinki, which I also assume will not be closed for business this time around (see posts from a year ago if you demand explanation of the woeful tale). Also scouting out possbilities of heading to Vladimir via Peter sometime in summer, where she has a dacha-dwelling grandmother knitting rugs. Thus the vodka in the freezer, to start training for over a week's time back in Russia. Поехали!

I'll throw in some more lines about types such as Allan and Nadja, Kaarel and Tomm and Markus and Kertu and Anneli and Karolina and on forth and so with be thus for .. I forget what prepositions mean any more. In short, there's good hanging with good people here at long last as well.

Tori's making her way here in May/June. I expect travel proposals and schedules from many more people heading this way as stat as stat may allow!

Far more to come. More or less in inglise keel, and much much less coherent.

Edasi, вперёд..

А.

Põrandal . (väikese luuletus)

2009-03-20T12:46:00.003+02:00

istusin köögis

põrandal

jõhvikajoogipakk käes

pesumasin valgus

mingi sinine

lülitas sisse

mõtlesin,

ilus.

kõik

kuidas ise pannud

tahaks ka

'creativity'

nii lihtsalt

sisse lülitada.

A.

..edasi, вперёд..

Nagu .. nagu õunakõlarid (like apple-speakers)!

2009-03-16T10:14:00.001+02:00

Nii.

A realization of late is that a very decent portion of my daily life is run in the mode of .. yes .. the popular party perpetrator know as 'Catchphrase'.

Päriselt (really)! It's actually quite enjoyable, while at times aggravating (especially if the conversational partner is worse at it than a vodka-enhanced Пётр Столыпин (Pyotr Stolypin). That's right; he's not even alive.). Nearly every complex attempt at phrasing often turns into a timed adventure. Timed, given how much I really care about expressing it or how long the other person really can stand listening to my jumbled, hand-accentuated tirades of slightly off-beat words. Adventure, as you find the farthest, least coherent and least used roads towards finding a likewise less-used word or phrase.

For example, I may start talking about how I need to buy/make (curses) drapes for my apartment in place of the decorational saran wrap (i.e. lace) curtains now in place. Problem: I don't know/remember the word for 'drapes', 'curtains', or anything similar. Closest I can fit is something like 'varjad' .. things that shade another thing (as in 'vihmavarjad,' or, 'umbrellas'). Let's say I offer out the 'varjad' option, garnished with some sped-up garnishing about it being in my room in my apartment. With the exception of Tuuliki, who is amazing at pulling out some sort of logic in my salt-water jumble of a sentence, most meet the arrival of such an explanation with blank stares and a sip of coffee, if a mug of coffee be in their hand. Thus erupts a momentous and cascading assortment of variations and semi-related detail: made of kangas (fabric), hangs from the wall or ceiling in front of a window, something I really need to invest in before the quick-approaching summer and the start of daylight somewhere around 2 or 3 am and when I have wishes of effectively sleeping somewhat past that time. At long last, the long-hunted word, familiar or not, questioningly emerges.. 'kardinad??'. As it's often an entirely new word to my patchwork of vocabulary and expletives, I repeat it and often go forward, regardless of if I can confirm or deny (it's actually on a good 90-something procent of the time.. the rest of the time, it just makes for the explanation being more interesting and odd). Then on to the next cycle of roundabout specifism!

Fantasticistic, if you ask me somehow.

More on the here and there's, the who and how's to come. Tulebgi ikka.

Tõlkimine tuleb.. või midagi ise oma mõttedes. Ma ei viitsi nii palju inglise keeles kirjutada, või rääkida, või mõtleda üldse. See mulle väga meeldib. Kirjutan siis kõigist veel, ka.. oma reis Tuulikiga, mu soovist hoopis rohkem reisida, mis on reisimine, mis on mis, kuidas on kuidas ja kus või kuhu see kõik jalutab.

Edasi, вперёд..

Külmatuule.

2009-03-01T16:16:00.007+02:00

Noh, nii. It's been a bit since any last bits of incoherencies have scattered themselves across these pages. It's been a shorter bit since the official mark of the sünnipäev (birthday) has occurred. What would logically follow in streaming text form would either be an update or a long and theoretically endless reflection on one or many things. I'll go for neither. Or bits of both. Or some cake and beer. Most likely the latterish.

The shifting of light is fantastic, though odd, on the way back toward the summertime dominance of daylight. I very often feel like I accomplish too little, that my list of 'tehtud asjad' (done things) that can be sorted from the day is often even lacking the title. True, it probably is shorter and less detailed than it could be. It's also much easier right now to at least temporarily blame it all on the extension of hours during which printed text is somewhat visible for more than a pair of hours. In that thinking, when it was dark and I was able to scratch out at least one identifiable area of 'progress' from the mid-section of the day, the quick approach of evening pushed things ahead and I felt as though the workable, productive part of the day was brushed up. With further edging in of daylight from both sides and the approach of much, much more, I suddenly feel like the one or two things actually knuckled into place is met with mitu veel tundi (so many more hours) of .. whatever seems to fill that space. I'll soon either become comfortable with the fact that I have, and allow myself to enjoy, 'free time', or I'll dive into increased levels of caffeine and actually implement the active part of the word 'motivation'. Developing a balance of both would also probably be fulfilling. Not very different from the sense of satisfaction that may be derived from cake and beer.

Here's the part where I drone on about the oddities and uneasy feelings rippling through everywhere (including here) as a result of the majanduse kriisi (economic crisis). Well, fair enough. It's my form of expressing the minimalism which may be appreciated, especially in such times. Sobib.

Kas meri peegeldab taevase värvi, või ongi teistpidi?

Does the sea reflect the colour of the sky, or vice versa?

Las, et see küsimus lihtsalt riiputab..

Edasi, вперёд..

Õige..

2009-02-18T10:12:00.010+02:00

Sõnad ja tunded.. või, täpsem, kindlused. Õige.

I can't rule out that mild aversion to expression in English is behind the latest long stretch between posts. No problems with the language itself, and I can still say that I type faster (and more grammatically correct) with a wider range of vocabulary, though .. it's just so much more comfortable now to wake up, conduct a day, and fade back to unconsciousness with a non-Indo-European language flowing and expanding in full consciousness at every second.

Ma olen ka tegelenud oma ajaga teiste asjadega.. ja ühe armasa inimesega.. haha!

It was odd being back in the States. Although I had great times at every turn with even greater friends, somehow in the gaps between these hanging-outings I felt constantly uncomfortable and bored. So bored, I considered eating an entire pack of Twizzlers and watching Lost from start until what's going on 'now' (in quotations.. because.. what is 'now' in Lost?! Whoooaaaaa.. haha. Fair enough; I will not let this blog become a commentary on That. Facebook will suffice). It took a bit of analyzing to seed out where this 'boredom' emerged from, why I intrinsically felt that a day at the zoo wouldn't really solve it. Given, yes, a day at the zoo would result in me being frozen to a frozen banana or jumping into a tiger pit just because 'those striped bastards should really be sharing all that warm fur'.. Minneapolis in winter is sort of like an extreme sport that I enjoy saying I've done, and am not averse to enjoying for what it is, but what I don't want to be doing all day all of the time for about 4 months. However, I could extreme kayak for that long. Hmmmm.. Yes, indeed..

The trip did much to sharpen definition of what, where, and what surrounds kodu ('home') for me now.

Minu kodu onju Eesti. Olen nii rõõmus, ja põnev, et ma saan seda kindlalt ja tugeva häälega öelda välja!

Kodu is not just a fully relaxed, lying-in-the-shade-being-massaged-by-tropical-penguins sort of thing. It includes, and is often defined by, challenges.. every day for the stretch of every day. Linguistically, culturally, and in a range of other forms that I'm not going to attempt to express.. that is here. This is mu kodu. Eestimaa.

Furthermore, if anyone was all down on the death of hip-hop, worry not! I recently found out that, yes, it lives on.. precisely, between the fifth and sixth floors of Mahtra 38, second trepikoda (stairway). Sõna (word).

Juured kasvavad. Roots are expanding.. I'm fighting with the constant deficiencies of the TeleYks online application system to start my mobile number as being on contract. This month, I get to officially declare my wages and reap in the rewards of a return (all while watching the doom garnished with gloom on every newspaper front page, discussing, for a start, how 20% of economic reserves were used up.. in november. Whoo! Raha!). I obtained a Kodakonsuse keeleeksaami õpik. An IKEA trip taking myself and Tuuliki into the depths of ex-urbs Helsinki is once again coming near, though this time most likely seeing me carry somewhat less than 45 kilos back on foot. I'm also going to buy one of those dealies that organizes your silverware in the drawer. Really. Päriselt.

This is the first drop or few in the continued väljendus (outwarding) of everything connected with this and here, them, and me, and her. Referencing a brilliant film referencing life itself (right before the big fade-in of the song 'Queen Bitch' by Bowie, no less!), I'll just say.. this is an adventure.

See onju seiklus.

Edasi, вперёд..

Directions. Igale poole.

2009-01-03T12:20:00.007+02:00

Many väljendeid (phrases) in several languages are peppering through my head, as leaves caught in undercurrents of water, swirling and cascading and then breaking across the surface. All are attempts to start off a complicated digression. While thus so utterly enjoyable.

Be that as it may..

Suffice to say..

All really just foreplay to the breath and determined first words of an ever forming and tangilating (that's my word, at 4 kroon per use) set of movements and conditions.

Mu reis (eriti sellest, et see mõte tähendab reis) tagasi on väga tähtajaline.

I've been through formulating out the words and backgrounds to that one for a while, so not as strenuous to express.

Мой отпуск обратно в Минниаполис совершенно временный.

Taken with a sip and a nod as well. Given that my abilities in Suomi to express things barely extends beyond selling liquour and bottled gin tonic drinks to our intoxicated northern friends, I'll go for the challenging one.

My trip back to Minneapolis is seeped in a crescendoing determination of duration.

That was to be expected, though the centrum of this has shifted closer. Most likely it will overtake the few weeks in the fall, though not by much. I have an apartment, and will now set out to find someone who can valiantly fulfill my obligations with such demands. Employment in the Cities remains blank, which by the mere fact that I am not thoroughly worried over such, is in its own a convenience. I don't own any furniture (anywhere, really). My teekann (tea..pot?) is already here. All takes in.

There are several digressions as to the whys and the hows. One is a continuing mode of expression. One's name is Tuuliki.

In the near lights of the present is a highly anticipated visit to Minneapolis-home with the closest of friends. Indulgence in dusty government documents running up to a possible running-at the FSE in veebruar. This and that, here and here and around. Exhilaratingly forward.

Edasi, вперёд..

Sisse ja välja ja ..

2008-12-27T11:17:00.006+02:00

I've been breathing deeply as of late, enjoying the height of oxygen into my lungs and the heightened sense of everything which surrounds. A swooping step approaches, garnished with the depth of conjoined bitter and sweet. The approach is however severed from what pulses as present, at which each and every second I grasp and intake with a breath. A breeze of assuredness rifles around. A warmth of lingering embraced sidelong inhalation rahuldab, the coordinated movement with waves in a drifting boat.

Edasi, вперёд..

Sorting, and the sort.

2008-12-17T21:05:00.012+02:00

..and now for the inglise keelne version of my thoughts. This has been coming around less quickly recently, and while oft lacking in as much depth (due to sõnastiku restraints.. mmmrrr.. vocabularic? Those involving vocabulary?), is thoroughly enjoyable and stimulating.

I've slightly mentioned before (I know, this describes about 94% of my blog content) the current issue of 'reluctance' in which I've been treading. I want to stress again, as a general disclaimer, that this is in no way a feeling of repellence from my home of the Cities. Enough other posts have cleared that out as a possibility, especially through the thick of doubt concerning my life choices a good 10 months ago. Then again 8 months ago. Not forgetting to mention the one at around 6 months, and varied moments of gradually increasing increments.

Quick break to mention an important discovery: the first Estonian beer that I've enjoyed which keeps its head! It might be the maritime climate, or the local historical claim of '700 years of slavery,' though whatever it is, the lack of emancipation given to a creamy top on õlu (beer) brewed within the territorial claims of Eesti is highly noticeable. Let it be known, that Puls Jõulu (Christmas) 'Legend' defies this law of brewed physics here! That is all.

Back into it. I've attempted (miserably) to express to others in at least three different langauges the intricacies of the 'push-pull' factors here. I've got overriding 'pulls' towards Minneapolis, and those towards Tallinn have (vaid viimasel ajal) grown over a precarious balance of slight indifference. That's the wrong word.. underlying attractions and inexplicable draws have, since my first moments here in 2006, peppered intrigue with the language, people and land. A lack of tactile definites and, moreso, confidence in myself being here hinged it in the period of back-and-forthishness which so often decorated rants throughout the spring and then on and off in the summer. One element I overlooked (and in rash times forgot) was the length of time generally and naturally taken for adjustment. If I chose to study in California for a masters, I'm sure it'd be the same or worse (I also doubt I would hold more than a transitional level of patience with living there). Overall, it's a respectable period of time that is rarely avoidable. It's fascinating, and somewhat of a trip, following up on Erinn's blog, 'Planned Movements,' accessible through the 'Dancing on Maple Leaves' located on the left side of the cabin next to other emergency exits from my blog. Erinn is a long-time close friend who recently moved to the northern neighborhood of Canada. Integration into a culture that is so strongly entrenched in maple syrup would be a bit much for me, I fear, and I'm proud of the progress she's made so far.

A similar stream of this reluctance now, I feel, comes from making it through so many of these ups and downs of doubt, and then the timing of moving to Minneapolis (I avoid saying moving 'back' because this, I also warn, is merely the next stage of the next stage, with many more of such goings and arrivals to come). Doubt is low about the spot I've strenuously carved out here for myself. This is probably better, as I will be going with a bit of assurance already precluding my return. Had I fully broken out in the fall, ties would remain, however with different forms and material of thread, with less intricacy of the binding, with musings in the place of what is now a grasp of belonging.

Here is home. Minneapolis is also home. I am part of two geographically separate rahva seltskonnaid. Different senses, different lengths and social ties, though in all it is positive and, while bittersweetly tinged, especially fulfilling.

And all reinforced by the remaining millimeter of foam (that's some metric for you) resting atop the Jõulu Legend. Swirls of this and that, only slightly comprehendable in the flit of a moment at hand. All calls for another pint close, the thoughts of blue eyes, and some quality time once more taking in The Life Aquatic. A sip for those at home, another sip for a particular architect in the making at here-home, and still two more for the ground and water and roots under all.

Edasi, вперёд..

Onju.

2008-12-17T01:03:00.005+02:00

Mina just sain teada.. kuidagi nii hiljem, aga igatahes.. et, miks ongi nii raske isegi möelda sellest, kuidas ja millal lahkun (tähtajaliselt, mäleta!). Varsti tuleb ära sõita kojunt. Teise kojunt, jah, aga samas mõtes, see on esimese kojunt ka. Kodu on kodu, ja ma oskan kaks eriti head tükkid. Siin on siin, ja seal pole siin, aga seal on seal ka.. ja üldse on juba piletid ostnud (ja lükkinud edasi, millest ka ma ei hakka rääkima).

On kõik siin, ja on kõik seal. See on see tase, mis on tähtis. Kirjutan varsti kõigi sellest.. ja veelgi.

Вперёд, edasi..

A.

Sõnaga.. ja siis veel.

2008-11-30T00:06:00.005+02:00

Nii. Once again myself and reluctance encounter each other.

Officially it's official. Following a multiple-hour battle with Northwest Airlines (plus company of bought, I place in quotes, "insurance," on said tickets) on the tickets bought, the original price (and, apparently, strings attached), the reason for buying and circumstances behind.. jne edasi.. further tickets have been issued and I will now be arriving in the Twin Cities on 6 jaanuar. Living situations are set up with a friend of a friend (I imagine soon to be a full-class all inclusive friend) in a two-bedroom place close to Uptown. (Most) tickets are purchased. Job/studies in the works. Unnerving.

To both clear up and encourage more rumours, yes, a girl is a growing part of the prelusive feelings of reluctance at a repeat full-out move. Fate rarely coordinates with time. I doubt either uses a Blackberry. In all, it's absolutely worth difficulties though. What else really inspires motivation? More on said one and shifts and such in coming posts..

Language is daily. By no means do I intend to say that I am entirely fluent or capable of unbarriered deep interaction, though, it appears in the first moments of my thoughts in the morning and flows forth (while breaking over boulders) all elements of conversation throughout the day up until the last murmurs of drowsy musing. This is to be expanded upon.

As the illustrious Facebook profile states, ma täiesti armastan kui ilus see maalilm saab olla.

Edasi, вперёд..

Moldin.

2008-11-19T01:01:00.006+02:00

Everyday Iceland picture courtesy Lúc

Incredible.

Yes, I feel like I emit that outwardly emotional word often after Icelandic performances, however, it's just about right. I just (randomly, as is best) käisin (mmmrr.. went.. to and hung out in) the concert (make that word interactive feeling) of (loooong sentence) Ólöf Arnalds in a small artsy drinking corner (Juuksur) here in Tallinn. Strange saying that is is one of the best shows that I have been in attendence of, though in its subtle ways it fufilled this spot. The simplicity of it all rained down beautifully (literally.. concrete bits holding up the medieval cellar ceiling were falling into hairs and drinks). After randomly shoving a floating copy of Postimees into my kott following my shift and sitting with said ajaleht and unsaid pint of beer, I saw an aricle about the performance with a special 'happening tonight' sentence attached. While calling a film-type acquaintance living in the city, I was questioned about the show, and sidewise invited along with a pair of familiar (though yet-unenjoyed) British/Scottish (new) friends.

Following conniving myself and my slightly dismembered ISIC (not ISIK, for eesti readers.. haven't been that drunk yet) through the sooduspileti hind (discount (student) ticket price), we grabbed some close spots under the contemplatively stable ceiling and took forth some drinks.

So many factors went into the show that made it the beauty of what the title 'folk' so incessently perverts - a good, in-touch musical and vocal show. Ólöf is Icelandic and carries that sense of humour, which inherently helps. Yes, humidity caused both guitars and her armadillo-ukelailie (I shit you not.. and to quote, 'It's as well of an afterlife as I can imagine') to call for constant, often mid-song tuning to commence. Yes, some assholes in the back of the room carried on laughing and chortling through the first quiet part of the show and the later, settled-in part where the bar in the connecting room started filling up and accompanying. The natural character of the music, the presentation and conversation, and the performance all weaved together, and most importantly kept it alive. From Icelandic folk through acoustic mountains (complete with her detailing mid-song where, on the album, the strings come in and then the brass band and this and that!.. for another awkwardy fantastic quote, "..and even a whole choral section comes in now.. not as beautiful, of course, as the Tallinn Choir, though.. a great group of happy people singing..") through English sea-songs and American West saloon-ballads and 1950's Swedish songs of sea-side conversations on love and loss, a storytelling and liveable experience emerged.

Complete with snowstorm following, it is a great set of moments hinganud sisse (breathing in). Music for an open road, feeling the warmth of another resting their head upon your arm.

More on the already longing glow of thus around and unspoken possibilities of possibility in phrases soon to come.

Вперёд, edasi..

Northern infatuations.

2008-11-11T08:06:00.004+02:00

One aspect of life here that continually entrances and astounds me is the variety of cultures and lives in such a small space. I suppose that after a lengthy amount of time in any region, certain variations arise and replicate themselves, compounding over time into full-out insulated dialects and nationalities. To outsiders of the region, and even general new-comers, most of the differences remain unintelligible and often unmentioned. Languages also tend to capture their own locational references to other peoples, far separate from common English-implemented world speak. In eesti keel, for example, some of the more striking examples are Sweden (Rootsi), Lithuania (Leedu), Russian (Vene), and most prominently Estonia itself (Eesti). In the case of the country itself, it's interesting how small-people politics played at one time into a gradually increasing widespread recognition of the location. Finland (Soome, or Suomi in Finnish) shares this problem, even though it has been an independent state for some time now. Far from influential and lacking a continuous independent state, Saami people (Sámi, or Laplanders) are another culture recognized through the lens of history out of the spotlight. Given, many larger, continuous and active countries also carry a designated English title far from that in the chief language (Deutschland, also Saksamaa in eesti keel.. on a side note, check out the 'map of Germany' on the Wiki article of Germany and give me your opinion if the person posting is somewhat of an expansive nationalist missing the 1940's).

Further into the linguistic variations comes that of culture. Eesti is not just the Tallinn pealinn (capital) people.. there are many from the islands, the linguistically distant Setu people in the south (one southern region is commonly called Otepää, meaning Bear-head in Setu. If translated into Tallinn eesti keel, it would come out as Karupea), and the Võru (also a separate language), to name a few. Obviously the more locally you focus, the more tribal these differences appear and knowledge of them is kept to those in close proximity.

Something I want to explore further in Estonian language and the region in general is cultural and linguistic regard of other Fenno-Ügric peoples, especially the Sámi. I've oft wondered how I have a slightly darker skin tone when my roots (as I know them) are Irish, Swedish and Prussian. I also have mused over how northern, colder lands and climates feel comfortable and seem to pacify my disposition. Conversing just slightly with some people yesterday over this, I was pegged from my appearance and attitudes as probably being an Ingerlane (most likely misspelled, as Google is shunning me with it), which either connotes Karelians (people in the north-east area of Russia, formerly part of Suomi) or a group of people within that reindeer-herding mix.

To close abruptly and with a snap, reindeer meat is damn tasty.

Edasi, вперёд..

Мы, вновь.

2008-11-05T23:21:00.012+02:00

So, the United States of America has once again transformed itself and transformed the perception the world may take of us. Absolutely amazing. Until I stayed up all the way up to the 8am local time mark (shortly following Obama's victory speech), I had only somewhat grasped the unimaginable importance of this election. Sitting through the ups and downs and pundit raffataff engaged in a color-by-numbers exercise carries across a sort of Christmas feel in itself. Add elements of discussion concerning national, racial, international and inter-demographic firsts, and the magic began to swell.

I took some time trying to track down a decent station to watch throughout the debate, which was somewhat harder than it should have been. Part of this could be my distance from the continental US, or even Obama's childhood palm tree state, or even our shoot-marmots-from-Apaches northern outpost. Regardless, the internet offers just about everything (Obama forgot to mention that it won the election in his speech as well), and I was able to sample somewhat. CNN offered a live stream, however it was different from the 'real' CNN broadcast by sattellite, and thus somehow allowed to be anchored by the worst fake-tanned bag of duchery I have witnessed outside of MTV in some time. I kept BBC's live text in the background, which was somewhat interesting. At a certain time, BBC World started its coverage, which in theory should have been spectacular. This opportunity for a fresh US-British approach on the matter was ultimately shut down and put on Xanax by a combined 4,000 years of age between the four pundits. It was the worst stereotype of old British gentlemen, by old British gentleman, that I have been exposed to live (using the word liberally). So, scratch that one off.

Took a while to connive my computer into showing a Comedy Central stream, in anticipation of the John Stewart/Steven Colbert Indecision 2008 broadcast. Once it came to fruition, however, I found that the special was limited to an hour long starting at 10pm Minneapolis time. I firmly believe that all-night coverage by the pair could have been worthwile, not to mention filled with a larger cast of cockatoos.

At last, I was able to hold a fragile streaming connection to MSNBC and spent the rest of the election indulging in the commentators' witty banter amongst themselves and African American guests (plus Tom Delay and the respective campaign managers). I have to say that the 'racial equality' themes and undertones implicated in the selection of our 44th president were a realized though non-deciding element of the race for myself. I, and I believe President-Elect Obama himself, take this as a monumental step, though one which is not the only cause and only motivator for the wider sense of 'change' which is just beginning to inspire and call to action our nation. In his victory speech (which I have yet to pore back over, though will address in a later post), I remember that during one of the multiple and building climaxes, Obama pointed out that we have achieved change in his election, but that this is not what the election was about itself. This is only the start of things, a moment in the wider renewal and re-realization of our fundamental constitutional principles, and we have chosen a challenging and uplifting road for ourselves.

Digressing, the crowd receiving this speech and the entire electorate which has chosen Obama did so not primarily out of racial issues. However, the immediate and resounding effects which this vote has in that very topic is humbling and unspeakable in its magnitude. Seeing the faces of several prominent and ordinary African Americans, hearing the accounts of their own astonishment and joy at the achievement of this; not a president with a special focus on African Americans, but at the achievement of greater equality.. seeing and feeling their wordless amazement and love for the ideals which are America.. well.. this is an election, a time and a movement which I and all citizens who cherish our constitutional principles and rights will never forget.

Whoo, tingly! Haha.. We the people have the electrifying ability to be awesome sometimes. Go America.

Shifting for the moment aside of political discussion, I am becoming stoked up for the (real) return once more! Importantly, an element of political fear has been removed as of yesterday, though overall the realignment of my internal compass Minneapolis-ways is charging me up. In the last few weeks I've been fighting a pull towards the dulling of motivation .. not specific to moving, but in just about any aspect including sleep. Plans with Tori to get another 2-bedroom somewhere stuttered out from this and that, though we'll probably be hanging out just as much in Bully's (with free popcorn) as we would in a shared apartment. I had sort of counted on that as a 'certainty' in my move back, which added some comfort to the general flurry of confusion still healthily carried out by job searching. Moving at any time and in any circumstances seems to promote the kind of stress that reflects when you are plagued by some minor cold, though you're not sure if you really have a cold or have just been off beat for a time, or if a real cold will actually come, or.. Whoa, I just made myself want a beer.

All things end up coming around however they will, though, and disperse stress along the way. Beer also helps that.

Между прочем, thanks to my friend Awesome-Squad Melissa Lam and her own surprise array of awesome-squad friends (squad members, really.. and yes, everyone gets a glock, except for the interns, who all share one).. I have a potential apartment-mate set up for December! Following the slightly awkward (should donate some 'musing' time to what kind of a person Kim would come off as in such a situation) Facebook exchanges confirming that the other person doesn't make multiple fake Beastie Boys videos on Youtube (always an important question) and is not a permanent cult member, we have now started getting down on the getting down of actually finding a place.

She works for the state Senate (let me know if you want me to lobby at home for any bills limiting the number of tax credits possible for promoting anthropologically-themed squirrel accapello duos.. I've got the ins now), and I only have a scattering of interviews and unresponded CVs, so we're looking to settle down around Uptown or the Selby/Grand area. I'm excited to relocate back to an area of the Cities in which I've only roamed before, though I will miss proximity to THall. On Dasher, on Dancer..

My one-night readjustment to US Eastern time and then flip back again is tapping me on the shoulder, thus I'll shade in and dimple some blanks while making more in the next few days.. This whole 'Change' thing got be so charged up that I'm ready for a nap! Haha, aaahhh.. election humor.. Well done.

I should really commit myself to writing posts in that energized period of post-morning tea and pre-post-evening-wine. Ideals.

Edasi, вперёд..

Yes, we can.

2008-11-05T07:18:00.003+02:00

The most inspiring speech I have ever witnessed. I'll get on analyzing it following some sleep, and some warm dreams complementing those already realized in America today.

Edasi, вперёд, ahead..

A.

Рржжжжшшшшщщщщ.. or, 'Lá metamophose de Mister Chat'

2008-10-27T23:57:00.011+02:00

How else to put it.. It's a double shower, double glass of wine sort of day.

What leads to this sort of realization is somewhat irrelevant. Everything leads to everything.. yes, a shitty cop-out, though in the grand scheme of things and the first sip of this second glass and with no pressure to elaborate, I deem it adequate.

Not to have to quote John Mayer lyrics (I hope he plagiarized these words, especially given the context), though, 'I feel a quarter-life crisis just a'stirring in my soul.'

I felt close to walking out of work today. Nothing exceptionally dramatic precluded it, minus the usual bullshit of dealing with hordes of middle-aged women as customers (no offense to any innocent intakers of this post, though given this sampling, fucking worse than underslept 5 year old children) and high-school aged, pre-high-school mentality co-(used liberally)-workers (likewise). To disclaim: this only describes about 80% of those I work with and if need be, I could identify a good .. four or five who are upstanding members of society. That might be one of my current sources of contention, though let's just move onwards.

Strangely, it's not the place that seems to be stirring up these inexplicables. I can say that, especially today, an intensely strong missing of good friends in the States came a-surfacing. If there wasn't the distance, this post would probably not have emerged and most of its content would have been mentioned and dissipated through the bottom of Oktoberfest kegs and free salted popcorn. The strong sense of friends' absence is most likely a symptom of general realigning, and one that I can comfort myself as being short-term.

Upon getting back to the States, I've got some meetings set up. Both of them are jobs which would require Russian, something I'm going to focus on primarily in the search for employment and hold as a priority. That'll steady things a bit. Feeling.. well, feeling that I'm actually contributing something to the world would be great, though even an environment separate from the basics of service is something which is crystallizing as being intensely necessary. There is a balance somewhere, and this is not it. True enough, I'm here for the language and not the job, so I can placate the situation with that fact and strive harder to concentrate on it. However, lightly put, I'm ready for a forward switch.

For all that is and has been coming forth from this, both the positives and the negatives, I want to stress my appreciation for all situations and places involved. I don't want the blog as a whole or this post to carry forth a discouraging tone.. somewhat the total opposite, really. Though it's through these waiting periods and aggravations that the other bits really seem to shine through and sort themselves out.

Vague? Yes. Exactly.

It's the pull of momentum temporarily shrouded and impatiently puling itself through. As if in a rolling fog, comfortable in the thick, and disoriented when stumbling into lighter shades.

Metaphors are insufficient, though enough to settle with for now in light of exhaustion.

On a side note, due to what was most likely the plague (not on my end), the much awaited date of mention was postponed to the end of this week. Going on about it would only serve to uselessly lay blame on unresponsive circumstance. I'll leave digression on that about there for now, and sharpen my pencils (they number two) in prolonged anticipation. Haha.. no, really, we're going to go sketch some buildings around the city and whatnot.

Enough of the undirected disconcertedness for now. Expect some general upbeatedness and positivitiveness to come.. there's nowhere else it can go (definitely not to Iceland right now)! To maintain credentials and quote out on a more widely varied, less sexually charged, nearly excessively upbeat and lower-pop-neutral source, 'Yes, we can..'

Allllright.

Wait.. can't I just blame the financial crisis?

Edasi, вперёд..

Paper under the ink.

2008-10-19T16:27:00.061+03:00

It's taken a while to get down on the gettin' down of writing, though here it is once more! I feel as though I am mismanaging my time of freedom (i.e. time not spent behind a counter scalding myself and any Fenno-Ugric peoples near me), though maybe I'm just settling in with having a constant lack of boredom. Actually, can't really see that being a problem anytime before I'm 92 and four months old, and that would only result from me having given up on trying to understand those dang kids and their new, year 2074 model implant Wii rock electro music guitar pool tables. Although life should also be somewhat posh for the elderly at that time. I'm thinking Werther's implants.

Between blogging, language absorption (Russian through the tele and books, eesti keel though just about everything and usually involving free beer, and now the basics of Danish), a cut-back scattering of US television, BBC, Vesti, Postimees, The Economist, Naomi Wolf, Facebook, the election, sending out CV's for a Minneapolis job, contemplating grad school, sketching for a possible architecture master's portfolio, lounge music, and whatever random shit comes about (lately, finding random pictures of bears in ridiculous fashion), my adult form of progressive ADD is somewhat satisfied. Oh, I also make dinner and sleep from time to time.

Not meant to be a complaint, in any sense. I realize that I'm absolutely comfortable with it, and yearn for more time to spend on each and every one of those things. Must be a part of maturity.. insatiably dredging up all of these random things to fill your time. Enjoyably tiring. I'm somewhat apprehensive for what'll come about once I move back to Minneapolis; getting around to spend some long-needed time with a staggeringly wide range of friends will be taking priority. Second-up will probably be bashing back into Russian, as I'm hoping to land a position downtown using that skill.

It's a facet of life that took a long time and many approaches to getting used to.. that of having to downgrade the amount of time I dedicated to friends, long time and emerging, on a daily basis. Now that I have readjusted to the limited contact and being slightly outside the 'circle' (being back in the States for a month was brilliant, I have to add, and the reconnection to a highly active society, while awkward for the first few days, was reaffirmed as a central part of me), it's going to be strange once more to fully implement a refreshed structure and system around myself.

Finding someone here to settle into that a bit more with, while it could be incredibly tough and aggravating that it would only start in close proximity for the next few months, is a definite interest of mine. I've had so many false-starts in the time I've been here (girls tend to always be unavailable and static in those positions), so it's somewhat tiring and bit of a challenge. Let's just say though, that.. barring any fucking sünnipäevad (birthdays).. neljapäev (Thursday) could be a very, very great day and I'll have much more to elaborate on in the safari for a significant other. Haha.. Now just for a pith helmet and slapping myself into a somewhat presentable appearance for these so-called date anomalies..

Onto something just as engrossing.. I officially sent in my absentee ballot a few days back! Whoo, active participation in a political system! It's also exciting being from a state where my vote is much needed. Somewhat unsettling and scary, though exciting. I've also been revving myself up as of late with Naomi Wolf's new book, Give Me Liberty. Enjoyable to read something that I have shifting and conflicting feelings toward. An important aspect of it I believe is that even though I'm not in agreement with everything written, it is meant to provoke an active debate in itself and to bring these issues to light. People are much more prone to lock themselves into one camp or another without taking in alternate views if they aren't exposed to them. That's a great part about America is that (in theory) we have the ability to do this, and from that we come up with a mutually beneficial common ground through peaceful means. It's very true that especially in the last decade, this practice has become somewhat discouraged and even forcefully downplayed. Something will reach a breaking point though, and the ability to use and actively exercise our right to freedom of speech will come back around with even greater meaning.

I've been thinking lately and writing a touch about how the Obama campaign has at least set up the beginnings of this refreshment of rights. This election is one of the most important in US history, and (though the word has been draped overenthusiastically upon almost everything in the last few months) a single change may give the possibility for a multitude of others. A constitutional element of our political system is this ability to change and transform how we engage ourselves and the world while holding onto our fundamental principles. It feels as though of late people are afraid to exercise these rights, even by merely holding an opinion. Part of it is an encouraged (socially and educationally) apathy, part of it is a willingness to let a host of laws and institution take it away from us. It is, however, rightfully ours by the Constitution and our option to peacefully regain. The nature of Obama's campaign strongly called upon a local presence and grassroot structures. I think that, given the fresh take on such processes separate from association with the crazies (usually promoting health care for ticks and a national housepet committee), the ripples will carry on in different forms and for different reasons. Could be a step towards a multi-party system, or more chances for direct democracy and bringing and interest of what goes on in goverment to the people affected who it is meant to serve.

Didn't mean for this to turn into a winding political rant, though that's the air of late. My sleep is still a bit thrown off from getting up for the debates (nothing like 4 am mental challenges!).

Expect more of the same in the next month. Expect literal interpretations of my hapless and awkward attempts at romantic contact with the opposite sex. Expect more bears (we both become slightly more ridiculous right before winter hibernation).

Edasi, вперёд..

Baltic once more, for now, once more..

2008-10-14T01:55:00.004+03:00

More to emerge soon, edging towards clarification on .. just about.. most things I could elaborate on that I've put off in a while! Tactility comes with the fog and rain..

Вперёд, edasi..

Refresh (Värskendus).

2008-09-19T23:44:00.005+03:00

--Wrote this in a sidewalk café on a Paris sidestreet. Mmmm.--

Noh.. Pariis.

I very much heart this city. It is alive, excited and entirely coexistent. It feels as though I have spent so much energy in other places to not feel as a foreigner, to not be looked upon instantly and with first breath as an outsider with everything that connotes. The city and its people are contemplative, expressive and seemingly enthralled to live amongst each other. There pervades that slight sense of aloofment, yes though interactions ride upon waves of genuinity. I enjoy the lack of English, in signs and surroundings as well as responses. The language is stunning; enforce it! Sidewalks are littered with cafes, always vibrant and reverberating with life and the soul of societé. People want to converse, wnat to fill the seams in pockets meshed with the other, spilling into the winding masses of the physical city itself. It is a warmth, a glow which emantes from each corner and face.

Merci.

Here is there is here (Siin on seal on siin)

2008-09-19T18:59:00.004+03:00

Niiiiiii..

Paris is one of the most beautiful cities that I have ever wandered and indulged. Saying any more would force me to exhibit public displays of affection. I'll save reminiscing here for some quiet moments, candlelit and with soft jazz seeping through the background.

Being in the States so far is almost inexpressibly strange. I alternate between a dreamlike state wondering if living in Eesti really happened, to confusion and an awkward detachment from my surroundings. It's great being back in Minneapolis, absolutely fulfilling with the few friends I have been able to connect with so far (highly expecting some more delayed meetings!), and in all, a bit much for my head at the moment! I feel as though the excuses of jet lag over the 8-hour time gap have slipped me.. adaptation to that came somewhat quickly minus some mild insomnia and fatigue. Settling is, for now, appearing in the near-impossible. I'm here and there around couches and will be rolling around that way for the next few weeks. Upon fully moving back, I've decided that a fully rented, ready-to-move-in apartment is absolutely necessary for first stop. Hospitality abounds (even making it somewhat difficult to plan where and for how long to stay), though without a separate space and the weight of keys in my pocket.. it's difficult to process anything.

I've also reaffirmed how ridiculous and arcane mobile phone systems are in the States. To illustrate:

Europe: Go to store (produce or otherwise), find SIM card packages at counter, purchase, put in a phone, dial number to activate. The money spent on the SIM card is then on the phone (т.е. 40 kroon spent means free SIM card and 40eek credit) incoming calls logically do not cost you anything, texting is ridiculously cheap, and the entire cost for a month of calling might be $20 or $30, relatively.

U S of A: Go to store (say, Target). Try to explain to salesperson that you don't want to buy a phone with the card in it. Explain to salesperson further that, in order to use a calling card, you need a phone with ability to call. Reaffirm that you don't want to buy that phone with the card in it. Explain where Europe is. Shake head. Start explaining again. Give up. Go to second store specific to a phone company. Explain situation. Wait for idiot to ask other salesperson. Success! Other salesperson confirms. Wait for idiot to tie shoe and balance red ball on nose for small fish, while other salesperson tries to explain how to sell card, then follows up to make sure that idiot takes my money, and that idiot finally gets sent away to 'help' other wandering people. Pay $25 for charge-up card (if salesperson cares little enough about job and life to charge the recommended $10 for SIM card), struggle with phone to pick up service in metropolitan area. Once service can intermittently be attained, hope that new SIM card has not deleted all old numbers from phone and start putting local numbers in for first calls. Begin placing calls, and just as immediately halt frequency, after discovering that each minute costs 25 cents, incoming and outgoing, as well as the realization that even leaving a voicemail for someone depletes your balance by at least 50 cents. Curse uselessness of company, system, life, deities, apricots, and any other unresponsive objects in near area. Replace SIM card with European card, which continues to allow cheap text messaging. Rue the day.

More or less.

It is grand to be back though, and I do miss the atmosphere here.. the openness, the warmth. The innate 'need' of random people I hear is somewhat repulsive, as are several consumer-based things here and there (do seasonally themed interior decoration gift stores really have any justifiable purpose in any society?!). In all, though, they are the sort of things which over life I had already come to deal with (just tuned out through experience) and am now just freshly battered with once more (uuesti). The full move-back in a few months will be positive (and uncompromisingly strange)!

Already, and I'm sure over the next few weeks and then again when I move back this winter, I'm experiencing this odd sense of 'reimmigration'. Not sure if unfamiliarity of many things is the only thing behind it.. Not sure if I'm just so used to feeling like a foreigner that even here I automatically refocus on aspects of my own differences in regards to social and physical surroundings. I'm unleashed. Wondering if I'm doomed (or lucky enough) to always be somewhat removed from a stable 'here'. Being back in the Cities for the few days has made me miss Minneapolis so much more, while paradoxically causing to come to light feelings of possible comfort living in another completely different place.. Say, for my masters, somewhere else in Scandinavia or northern Europe? Another place, another (warmer) culture, another language, another city? It could be merely shaken, temporarily fresh unsettled feelings here, or just the yearn for something farther and deeper. No idea. Friends and the place once more feel as a comfort, and a reassurance that even after time they remain. The question of how long it would take and how much involvement would be required for it to become, once more, 'my' scene is intriguing and unsettling at the same time. Another turn, another road. What continues to intrigue through it all are the spaces untrod between the roads.

For now..

Edasi, вперёд..

..and counting (поехали, läks)..

2008-09-07T22:55:00.012+03:00

Amongst other things, I have an explicit need to start off this post with a winding, moaning rant somewhat concerning certain local practices.

What sort of culture promotes having a fucking national (also read: inherently exclusive) holiday out of each individual's birthday?! Also, I get the 'small nation' complex. True, and well deserved. Alright, stated. Next step: get over it. So your population numbers under 1,5 million. Given. I have a sneaking suspicion, however, that in order to extend a national presence farther and to feel more populous, people celebrate their birthdays at least 30 times per calendar year. What, you may inquire somewhere deep in your Estonian-deficient consciousness, exactly do these so called 'sünnipäevad' signify? Well, mainly, making plans with others in advance.. from weeks to days.. and then canceling out with apologies after curious inquiry from one of the parties when the arranged event is overlooked from the birthday-attending side. It should also be noted that birthday parties, apparently, require full and mandatory attendance by all of the individual's close-to-peripheral friends, for the entire duration of the evening, presumably with a celebrated 'tucking in' party capping off the newly aged person's social orgy. The event also will not take place in any public area, reliably spurn invitation of more than the mysterious number of 'close friends' for attendance, and, if possible, should likely be held in the middle of a mysterious and inaccessible bog kilometres away from any urban locale.

Would be less of an annoyance if the observation wasn't anthropologically sound, made over an extended period of time and many, many occurrences.

Birthdays here are bullshit.

So enough of that, for now. And onto..

Less than a week!! Невероятно, просто.. To clarify though, under 7 days from now I will be nudged somewhere in Pariis with a friend who I met in Tallinn a few years ago (see the L'Envers du Regard site for breathtaking reference, or revisit my 2006 posts). Should be really great! Wine and Sicilian card games that I can't comprehend are on their way.. Followed by Chunneling my way to London, meeting up with a Minneapolis friend for a pint, then off to Heathrow and from there hopping the ocean for the first time in around 10 months. Ridiculous! I am incredibly stoked.. Yes, living situation is somewhat fuzzy for the first while, and for the longer while if nothing pans out with work or residence and I need to postpone a 'full' return. I've come to know and appreciate the differences between 'realizing' something and 'preparation' for it, however. Right now, I have a grasp on neither. The nearness of the event and the whirlwind of days.. weeks.. that it will bring with it require time to sit and contemplate on it, or just the events themselves to smack me in the face to slide my fingers over comprehension of the trip, and possible move, itself. Preparation for all of this goes somewhat in hand with the realization, meaning that I'm expecting most ends to come together sometime järgmisel laupäeva õhtul. Probably between double fists of some Palmse Viru õlu. I've informed my landlord (who is also on vacation for the next month or so) that I'm going to rent for the full september and oktoober months in any case, I've sold my hard-transported futon to a good man from the café (and probably most of my dishes, leaving a skeleton 'in-case' stock), packed up a box to ship some heavier items (and at the same time wild about the fact that I'll still pay more than my airfare to get both bags through the first flight), basically.. set in the first stones for the bridge. What remains are the difficult parts. Näiteks.. finding a way to sustain myself if I do reroot, while also explaining to my employer in that situation why I didn't return as of yet and how to sort things out in an effort to sustain my residency permit as well as what I can do for the firm from abroad.. näiteks.. gearing myself up and making decisions for further education or employment. Locked myself into a GRE test date a week after I return, which should fit well with lingering jet lag and reverse-cultural awkwardness. Not to mention that mathematics and I are the tire-slashing sort of enemies. Makes a possible architecture masters programme and myself seem from a distance as the best of possible chums.

Basically, I'm so flushed with excitement for all of this that it almost turns into doubt that it is happening at all. Seems so odd.. so familiar, and so real. It's the same feeling when you're dreaming and you start to realize it, though you accept the realization of unconsciousness and don't see it as so much a stark alternative to waking up and starting that tea. What feels and appears as procrastination is actually disbelief and that good fear that makes your gut numb and your spine tingle (Kim read: bacon).

It's 'the same kind you feel before another beginning of beginnings.. or before expected meeting up with a fiercely cute and provoking Estonian girl.

Just holding out hope that the journey home won't have any sünnipäevad to attend..

More on the ground situation here in short time..

Edasi, вперёд..

Кто за кого (a prelude to Балтика 5)..

2008-08-17T18:22:00.006+03:00

I don't mean to turn this blog into a semi-political commentary, though when my weekly reading rotates between The Economist, BBC, The Onion, and Вести.. it's hard not to throw some things out there. Propaganda on both, no, all sides is stunning in the Georgian conflict. Both the subtleties as well as the wider drives in 'conspiracy' almost provokes more interest than the world-shaking conflict itself and how it has shed light on in the 'don't go there's' of Western-Russian relations.

I say all sides, because it's more than just Georgia-Russia or West-Russia. As Georgia isn't (yet) in NATO and thus remains susceptible to the full Russian political and military machine, there remains a divergence in perspectives (though Saakashvili's use of the EU flag during statements does suggest he feels differently). The Estonian take on all of this is special as well, and within that, the Russian-speaking Estonians vs. those with Estonian as a birth language. Haven't been following much of the US perspective, though it seems to take on the wider confrontation with Russia that has been brewing since 1992. European perspectives.. even going further to saying French-German perspectives, that of the British, and elsewhere, all differ. I've been mainly observing the Russian reactions on this whole deal, however, and many of my mornings before work of late have taken on the appearance of me with tea stapled to my hand and Вести television streaming online (often with some Soviet movie playing on my TV in the background as well.. nothing like an early onslaught!).

What provoked (ha.. and how that word has flown around in the last week) this post was this article from Вести (Vesti, for all the non-Cyrillicers) which just jumped up in the last hour. Apparently, as is being discussed in a meeting of the Russian Defense Ministry, Georgian militia in cooperation with Ukrainian nationalists and Chechen terrorists (note: not just 'separatists') have taken part in and are planning more 'provocation for unrest' in Gori. Their tactic: dressing in Russian military and peacekeeping uniforms, then making their way around the city looting and committing general rape-kill-plunder sort of crimes against the local population. They also are, apparently, carrying or distributing video cameras so that the events may be recorded and thus allow the Georgian side to decry continued Russian occupation (of 'peacekeeping' forces though, mind you.. ha.. ha..) and in their hopes, pull NATO members deeper into the fray.

Obviously covering their back for the expected nights out of their future-militzia members scattered throughout Georgia now. However, I wouldn't put it past Saakashvili to attempt that through security forces, in an attempt to get the West to saddle up. And at the same time, Russian citizens feel reassured that their image (at least with themselves and those who speak the language) remains clean as a bottle of Russkiy Standart. One should remember, however, that Russian vodka does, from time to time, become somehow interlaced with industrial toxins.

Конец первой серии..

Edasi, вперед..

И чуть о России..

2008-08-11T12:28:00.003+03:00

Just have to throw it in there as well.. welcome to the new Холодная Война (Cold War). Russian media is making a point of stating how US planes are flying 800 Georgian fighters from Iraq back home, in order to fight Russians. Another article rages on about how their troops have been trained by American forces for the last ten years.

I'm just drawn into a news programme in the middle of the breathless Russian reporting which detailed every type of military equipment Georgia is using ('against peaceful people and Russian citizens').. how many troops were trained by the US and Turkey.. where they bought and where everything was constructed (Turkey, Israel, Ukraine and US).. and just came up how apparently Georgian special forces planned a terrorist attack in Russia, according to the FSB. Medvedev is meeting with FSB now, so time to tune on to that one..

Proxy wars again?! Language at the Security Council is sharp.. The world should fear when the Russian military tires of beating its own members up and turns to other sources. Oh, wait, this is a 'peace keeping' mission..

Tick, tick..

Вперёд..

Затуманенно (while being obscured by mist)..

2008-08-11T11:28:00.007+03:00

Nii.. a great shift is drawing closer, though it feels as my awareness of it dims with every day nearer. When plans become more finalized and the event itself is realized in fuller detail.. it stirs near-disbelief. Which is distracting in itself.. as, shit!, there's a wide array of things to set up and finalize things in greater form as time progresses. I feel that too much time is caught in a circular tide; thinking how amazing and different things will be in such a short time, and in that all of the things which necessarily follow (i.e. shipping, packing, job, living) arise to consciousness.. and just as quickly seem as if a dream. In questioning the reality of everything finally 'happening,' I get caught up in excitement at its mere occurrence. I suppose in straight American English, what I'm attempting to carry across is, 'It's about time to get the fuck up on top of that shit!'

At the same time it's incredibly odd, as developments that I've been waiting on for months here have just started coming through which in effect actually legitimize my presence and incur the opposite of 'up and moving out.' I picked up my ID-kaart from the wretched Migration Board a week ago, and with it came my Isiku kood; basically a less secret Eesti Social Security code. With it, I've signed a form and am covered by the national (universal!) health insurance, I'm to sign a 'work contract' soon (ha.. ha.. mm.. about that..), just got paid legally through my bank account (continuing an economic diet of rice, with this, becomes all the more necessary thanks to 24% now claimed by taxes).. things are setting and solidifying at the same time that I am moving towards loosening and detachment. It feels ironic, though at the same time it feels right. I've recently been able to admit and see for what it is how lonely it is living here, with few if any possibilities for constant and fulfilling friendships on the horizon. Even shifting away from just looking at the present and gaging the coming months, it's much simpler to justify a 'yes' decision to moving back. It already feels like fall here, which I enjoy, and excites me further to simmer myself soon in the Minnesota version of it. The days are shorter (which started by the realization that, wait, there is a night!), it drops to sub 10C at night (perfect for kampsunid (sweaters) and hoodies! Yeeahhh North!), and.. generally.. reminds that the summer is closing out and more Radioheadish months approach. If I made it through spring and summer semi-adequately with a short supply of comrades (most, even, of whom are likewise leaving for various places in a month), I don't see anything exhilarating in putting myself through the coming dark days without the close company of great friends. I know I could do it, and the challenge of it is the only thing that preserves the faint possibility of residing here, though when the mere addiction to challenge is filtered from the point of here, exceedingly little remains to tip or shake the scale. No need to deny myself a positive thing and a strong step forward!

With that, less than five weeks remain until I'm arm in arm with friends and stouts on patios under goldening leaves!

That is, if Russia refrains from massing troops up to take back Narva (the border city with a sister castle to the Russian side). I've got to say, living in an ex-Soviet Republic at a time like this makes one a bit giddy. The unfortunate effect of having to work for rent comes between myself and departing here on a massive enjoyable political romp, though I'll try to stretch out the fingers and dust off the keyboard to take that on here in the next 12 hours or so. 'Soiuuuuz nerushimiy, respuuuubliikk svobonikh..'!!..

Ah, here's a tip of the hat and a cheer's to Ian's blog (Magyarishness off to your left there) with a great propaganda map that I stumbled over.. the Russian title reads 'Map of Our People for Children,' and details all areas that may be, in effect, classified as 'Russian.' I'm just waiting for the RF to fill in the gaps again..

Edasi, вперёд..

Шевелиться.. Stir..

2008-08-03T21:06:00.011+03:00

Ну, well well.. As usual, I've had the semi-constant urge to put something down here. And following the usual response to that urge, it's slipped away here and there when opportunity comes around. I've felt an (admittedly, sickenly pop-culture, Californication-inspired) increased drive to write more. The next step is logically figuring out something to write about.. a requirement which causes most sense I have to scatter. I suppose sitting down and going at it with no intended purpose is a sufficient alternative, probably one with better results less tinged in the rise and fade of immediate emotion surrounding other whims. I digress.

Today hails the six-week-and-counting mark! Incredibly stoked for the return to Minneapolis, and another start at sorting things out for the next few years. The GRE and FSOT await me within a month or two of arrival, and the LSAT if I become bored enough to slog through the preparations (I also fear becoming distracted on my way through Barnes & Noble towards the prep guides). It's exciting in the way that I'm motivated to become motivated. For now, at least.. though it will be something constant that I can resultingly restimulate with a combination of caffeine and alcohol!

Sensing the rerelocation drawing near, I'm also, in theory, taking to seeing and imbibing what's around much more. The pictures on the last post were from the Tallinn Soviet-era prison (which shut down just six years ago.. not sure in which era the conditions were worse) that I'd heard about and had this long-running ambition to scour through. At the entrance, only announced by the massive metal door being open and a small sign out of easy view stating the hours (and the fact that hours change faster than McCain's attempts at insults), a small shack appears which is the ticket booth, at the end of a winding gravel road with no apparent direction. You drop the old (Estonian) ticket lady 30 kroon, and she tells you to check out the execution room on the right and then do everything on the left. That's where the museum guidance ends. Creepy and sort of thrilling experience! The only thing stopping you from going too far (whatever that could mean) is the fact that the particular iron door or bars are welded shut. Random shit is lying around everywhere, old newspapers still stuck to the walls, clothing, books, drawings, dripping ceilings, surgical equipment.. just about everything minus glass cases, lighted rooms (ha ha.. really), and a reassuring atmosphere. One of those unique things that within a year or two will be either replicated high-cost apartments or shut out and left to disintegrate.

The other adventure of late (urges for which also stem from boredom, loneliness and a growing aversion to the near-daily routine of pointless 'work' alternated with making rice) was a spontaneous camping trip to somewhere south of Pärnu, in south-western Eesti. Nothing like starting out the morning with an 80 kroon (around $8.. note the stunning use of detail in the set-up instructions at left) tent purchase from the supermarket, spending the day on a bus and hiking for hours down the coast, almost getting swallowed by mystery death swamp ponds, and finishing out the day with a Baltic Sea (Läänemere - lit. 'West-Sea') view and sausages! Correctly, as my Estonian coworkers pointed out, somewhat crazy and lonely going it alone, though its the only option I really have here along with the fact that doing it that way was satisfying in its own right. My rule is that if you aren't eaten by wild boars or Latvians while doing it solo, bring it on! I'll see how applying that one works out in other life situations as they present themselves..

I'm holding my fists tight and repeating 'comeonnnn' over and over in anticipation of scoring a car to borrow for a good six days, and driving to the top of the European world in late August on a similar sort of seiklus. Sort of thing that would be really amazing with one or several friends, though central Europe and ocean(s) sort of come in the way of that for now.. which all contributes towards reinforcing the validity of my decision to make it back to the Cities for a very prolonged time!

I feel that I'm reporting a bit too much and edging closer to underlying moaning about this and that.. Probably hamper myself with doggedly sticking to only Eesti keel in developing friendly relations with locals. You would think that taking it on like this would actually turn over more promising experiences and root you more into the scene, though it often is met with an ironic dismissal of you just being any other person then.. which most likely detracts from chances of a quick-start relationship in an already closed-up culture. I realize, though, that I didn't move here to make friends, and definitely did not uproot in order to be used as a convenient English tutor dropped unexpectedly into locals' lives. The tiring, resounding majority of foreigners living here also make it more of a challenge to break the expat stereotype.. not making an effort at the language, combined with fundamental goals of getting some hot foreign ass (yes, respectable in itself, though the approach usually taken can be somewhat refined..). I'm a bit proud and relieved to be tagged moreso with the 'local' and not 'foreigner' status in comparison, even if it means culturally being brushed aside. Definitely somewhat of a stretch to compare the trend to those of migration (urbanization compared to rural life, or moving to the West compared to the choices here) or marriage (women look resoundingly for contextually older men or ones with more opportunities to offer).. though from what I've perceived, many people regard foreigners and most relationships in general in an incredibly opportunistic sense. People make a core group of old school-friends and relationships they stick with and value, and close off afterwards, holding new contacts in the sidelines as they see fit. Again, this is all more or less and sweepingly general, though pervasive. In that sort of light, most is simply what's to be expected given the circumstances.. unfortunate, and probably more difficult in some respects than would be in various other cultures and locations, though the reason for moving here was to take in exactly that as well. Just makes daily ins and outs a bit tiring, as in a way it's the non-stop linguistic business.. at least this time around. Could be the city, could be not tapping into the right scene, could be the language of focus, could be not having enough wine for the evening as of yet. All in all just continues to be interesting in its own interpretation, as you delve deeper and search out the variations. Поехали..

With semi-constancy in applying myself to writing, I'll hopefully get farther away from the reporting and moaning in following posts here! Though the words probably ring in emptiness as I raise a pint and my condolences to those who have for whatever reason even made it this far in me bantering blandly and pressingly this round.. Еще вино! More Dosh!

Axx.. Soon into refreshing scenes, dark pints and Minnesota skies.. Boardgames and lakes, friends, skylines and a possibility for mixing work with exploration of multilingual Slavic undercurrents of the Cities!! I'll expand on that spicy one in short time..

Edasi.. Вперёд..

Nii, et.. (Eyes and feet forward flowing)..

2008-07-20T23:52:00.010+03:00

So.

14 September/september/сентябрь : 11:00 fly out from Tallinn.

13:10 arrive in Paris (oui-oui).

15 September/september/ceнтябрь: Take on the city like a polar bear takes on fish. Just like that.

16 September/september/сентябрь: 9:07 Chunnel it over to London.

10:36 find my way to Heathrow (sled, if I can).

14:25 hit the London skies, and following in-flight movies and ticket-price-included Heineken onboard..

17:45 taste the Minneapolis air winding through the skyline.

More on that, the colour of the sky and the origins of these pictures in short.

Edasi, вперёд..

Rifficious.

2008-07-10T11:03:00.006+03:00

Fate can be sort of a prick sometimes, yeah? The breadth and depth of what comes to write about is a bit overwhelming for even a cloudy morning with new Sigur Rós and tea lining the background, and piling work and what feels like the last 200 of an 800 yard dash which is me doing the robot in picking up eesti keelne proficiency. Fuuah. Within the last month I have been staggardly punching progress holes into conversational ability (though not the sort of holes a Jesse Ventura would be able to punch). All the same and due to a conglomeration of wide-ranging and very- to semi-relevant conditions, about a week ago I sucked in a breath and made a Decision (no coin toss or decisive Bozo buckets involved, mind you) that, yes,

I am moving back.

Now to just carry through with that. I started with leaking it to some Estonian coworkers and friends, which felt like it should have been one of the more difficult parts anyways. I reassured them, and I do actually mean, that I will be moving back for a few years for grad school and the like, and throughout all of it traveling back often, holding my residency in Estonia temporary for as long as I can see. Hell, about the only places to speak Estonian in the street are here and in Toronto, and I'm not an avid Maple Leafs fan. It even seems to time out well, given that the people involved in the few 'better' friendships I have been able to develop are set to up and off themselves to mandatory army conscription or other parts of Europe. Plus the draws of being back with those in Minneapolis and the closer surrounding Midwest make fronting myself through explaining the decision easy. Done. Next, tickets. Done. September 16th (Northwest got drunk and tickets dropped below a grand from London.. Hu-ra-h.). Done. Start plans for being back, sharpen a CV and start feeling out for jobs. Alright.

Now, tell the boss.

It would have been loads easier, had this entire thing not coincided with another momentous event.. I am legally residing in Europe! Fucking finally! After six months of delay and pissing about, the Migration Board (just about as organized as the local Beaver Appreciation Society, which in my mind even has more admirable goals) descended from on high and presented me with a excessively-spaced letter detailing my name, birthday, and that their answer is 'Alright, sure.' This is actually a really sweet deal, and allows me to until February 2010 spend as much time as I want living and working in Estonia, as well as temporally unbounded travel in the rest of Schengen. I'll also get an Estonian identity card on 3 August, which will make me feel, in the most majestic of expressions, 'fucking pimp' when I walk through border controls in Europe.

Alright, great. I still plan on moving back, however. Even if I wanted to extend it, the first one is the only bitch of a process from what I hear.. renewing takes a week or two and could probably be done on holiday if needed.

My employer came up to me yesterday with all these things he is supposed to fulfill, however.. still not sure how all or any of these really concern me (our conversations are usually thoroughly interesting though range from point to point faster than Obama can wink at each member of a rally.. which I can believe is stunning). I also very, very loosely grasp how this would equal him wanting to demonstrate to the government that he (wants to.. what?!) will (have had) paid for my return tickets back Stateside. All jolly, yes.. don't understand any of it, and only slightly wary and offset by this.. though.. what?! I did slip into the conversation that I am actually planning on going back and slapping through the master's. I am somewhat sure he heard me. If he connected that to the rest of my sentence saying 'not sure if I'm coming back right away' is another matter. So now I need to go out and set it down straight.. I mean, shit, I already texted my landlord about it! Not sure how this will affect my residency permit in full, though.. suck in another breath, and take this one on with determination.

In other news, the sun almost fully sets for close to a few hours now. Whoo!

Ho..

Edasi, вперёд..

Jaanipäev ja kõik, mis see tähendab ja on seotud..

2008-06-24T10:26:00.004+03:00

Nii.

Eile oli Jaanipäev.. palju tuleb sellest rääkima, muidu lühikselt: .. sõitsin maale. Olin joonud. Grillinud. Käisin Soome lahtis pärast sauna. Eesti keeles oli kõik juhtnud. Taevas mere üle oli suurepärane. Inglise keeles ja vist rohkem eesti keeles varsi oleks kirjutanud siin, ja piltid lisanud kui leian nende kuidagi. Aga seepärast tund oleks hea magada, mäletada, unistada.

Edasi..

Niisiis..

2008-06-23T15:58:00.003+03:00

Well well.. This is a long time coming. Again with the 'little going on though much to discuss' sort of goings on. I feel like too much and too little of my days are carried out in English.. Though likewise increasingly much and at the same time not enough in eesti keeles. I am plagued by geography.

Conversations and the relationships (that grow out of and samas ajas (at the same time) shape the oher) with eestlased (Estonians, you may recall) are warmer.. And that is the tantalizing bit. Not warm enough to feel comfortable here or to propose to myself committing for a longer period or even say I have a steady set of faces to lock into, but it is the half-working-heated-kitchen-floor equivalent of social acceptance. I do crave a return, the warm rush of being around friends I deeply miss. I do also become distracted by intrigue.. Five minutes of successful conversation and a fleeting connection is enthralling.

A few weeks ago I, at least in mental decision, recommitted myself to coming back (again). Sit back and see how this goes; I'm back to the 'nothing definite' equilibrium.. Though I am feeling a bit hungry for written progress. Academic something-something. Provoking mental work. This will sometime consist of taking the GRE, LSAT and-or FSOT sometime upon returning.. Sometime. I'm currently aiming for September/Octoberish. As usual, the Migratsiooniamet could still at any time bash away all of these plans with their impending decision (I'm assuming, which has always been the brother-mother-any other sucker of fuck-ups, this comes before 20 juuli). Having the Fulbright carry through would also sway and romance me.. Though for now and until a non-alternate Fulbrighter breaks their ankles, this is pipe material.

I'm keeping an eye out for GS Department e-mails containing mention of any sort of provoking job in the Cities and at the same time a finger on the (unfortunately) steady trajectory of tickets back home. It feels like anything could really make or break the state of affairs. In the meantime, I pull myself a pint of Palmse tume in the evening from the café.

Traveling will be making its way into the sights soon as well.. Though the thought of money flowing out and not in is for various reasons not the most self-encouraging prospect. Mõned (a few) top-quality couchers Leedust (from Lithuania) have somewhat convinced me to add that to a list of places to visit, and one that should cross into the 'traveled' category in short order. Even hitch-hiking here, they made it in close to six hours from Kaunas. Just feels like something I need to do, given how simple it seems. I have a penchant for not being felt up by Baltic Russian truck drivers however, so I might keep to the inter-state bus system. Rising up to northern Finland with an auto is also a taiesti (absolutely) entrancing thought and hopefully, in near time, plan.

Head Jaanipäeva kõigile.. Take in this side of the sun while it shines and expect the same when it submerges on the other side of the solstice.

Вперёд, edasi..

Swirling..

2008-06-05T00:11:00.015+03:00

Well done, Amsterdam.

The glinting bursts of culture and intermix, comfortably unannounced and revising intrigue. Not merely an external to the city, more an imbibed mass flowing amongst itself. Though flow requires an outlet to refresh and revive.. something which seems to suffocate in the East. Control, or attempts at such, remain firmly embedded. Fear of a brimming over pervade, and thus the levels kept unnaturally low. The West brings about a surge, however.. the possibility of overreaching its boundaries reduced to a subconscious admission of 'probable'.. a 'more than likely' and is, as such, inherently self-managed in an absence of paranoia against change and shift.

So grand when your first instinct following extensive travel is to start searching вновь through tickets online, straight away from the door. Says a bit as well about the relationship towards the place where you reside.. especially when the arrangement remains 'towards' and not fully 'with.' Looking at that combination, I might go as far as to lay the foundations for a traveling summer, culminating in a ticker-tape return home to the Cities early in the fall. Once more I have felt totally revitalized being in a place that surrounds and enfolds in an openness; where initial friendliness is not required to be sought or fought for.

It's always a constant search for clarity.. though often muddled more than necessary. All that remains is facing forward, keeping steady through it all and coming around to what you identify as sustaining. Sustainment as separate from a fixed state, and allowing change and transformation in itself.. just locating and holding close an equilibrium.

Watch for more GRE, LSAT, and FSOT words soon slipping into appearance as groundwork becomes laid. A breath, and..

Edasi, вперёд..

There is a number of small things (like candles in the city).

2008-05-28T13:32:00.007+03:00

It's amazing when you meet people who remind and straight encourage you of why and who you are. Breath-giving. The sort of people who just from общение (talk and hanging-outing..) reinforce the friendships you have with other people far away while piling and sorting the base of another new one, all complementing the entire structure. The sort of people that are as necessary in life. Even more than an electric kettle.
I am physically incredibly tired (this post is post-12 something hours of straight uninterrupted sleep party), and mentally in an ecstatic state. The simple way of viewing things, your perspective on other people and things swirling through the tidal pool of life itself, sharp and active.. brought alert and awake from a drowse.
Such is a progressive result of the three days I just spent hanging about and regarding life with Amy the American (figures sold together with Splippy the Seagull Coke Dealer and Antwerp the Archetypal Ant). It's invigorating when a friend appears in the way most comfortable.. everything screamed Minneapolis (though admittedly emerges from Florida.. we all face overexposure, be it to sun or cold). Met in a cafe and share the ability to make an entire day appear and dissolute through conversation and beers on a balcony. At the same time refreshes myself and tastes like a long sip of Hope & King with the company usually around.. something I feel will catch up with me in a few days in full force. Has the possibility to set me into work-planning mode (a single sip of beer will do that, be it before writing your thesis, talking politics or reconstructive neurological surgery) for the coming fall. Not to give away the still-forming plot (planning as of now includes sorting the options at hand), and there won't be a trailer out for a while, though this should involve a change of address. And country code. And a daily change of boxers, as usual. The story unfolds..

Here's a pint raised to all who just know it's to them. And to Obama.. he's facing an opponent who would refuse to recognize losing at Scrabble when she had two tiles left and both were X (personally I would use them with another existing X and argue that it stands for moonshine or other jugged liquors (самогон). Totally legit.)

Also, a rousing shout of grand Soviet-style applause and admiration to Ian for getting his position at UW River Falls.. Amazing! Really encouraging in a personal sense hearing about it as well.. he's just landed what sounds like one of the sweetest possible setups in the grand sense of location plus self development and interest at work. Well done. Check up on it on his Magyarishness blog if you aren't already on it. Again, well done man!

Edasi, вперёд..

Bureaucratic Baltic Ass-Clownery.

2008-05-20T22:16:00.003+03:00

Right. Here's a legitimate question:

Estonia's Migration Board (Migratsiooniamet): useless, or fucking worthless?

My residency permit would be most likely be further along, faster along, or already fucking processed by now (more than three and a half months later!) if most of the workers there suddenly decided to take a lunch break and while on said excursion thew themselves off of a goddamn bridge.

More on this soon, though for now the news stands as:

More documents necessary. Decision postponed to mid-July.

Fuck off.

..just needed a short vent.

Вперед..

Brilliance..

2008-05-11T22:44:00.008+03:00

Ну, чтож.. This has been some time in the making. Thus you should enjoy the post like a fine wine. Left open for a few days, and initially fumbled off the bottom shelf because the label was enticing (note: this is actually a legitimate wine selection method, because.. I do it.) and all after already consuming some vodka, bez zakusok. Appreciate it.

Set, davai..

So.

I moved.

Should be mentioned that all of it took place in Russian as well. Hardcore awesomeprekrasno.

Setting the entire amalgam of various widely-sourced reasons behind.. I moved. It's done, and that's where it stays. Overall though, I felt a wider need for movement.. be it across the Atlantic or across the city (basically another country). Given that I still have no idea on any possible progress on my elamisluba (Estonian residency permit: soon to be pegged to the kidney exchange rate on the black market), I decided to roll with what I could here. I may not fully enjoy what I am doing (kohvik job working with young'ns is not surprisingly not fufilling), though I enjoy where I am doing it now.

Speedy background (timewarpwarpwarpwarpwarp.. 'will there be dinosauurs?') on Lasnamäe.

It's basically Russia. Every day I take a twenty minute bus ride to the Schengenized version of Stalingrad, where every step crackles with delight (due to the broken vodka bottles) and life is jubilantly enacted and displayed on every corner (the local Roma children, flocks of denim jackets, and general staggering). Корочье, fucking brilliant. My apartment itself is clean and just remodeled. The bathroom is somewhat of an exception, though after a few added touches the abandoned-hospital aura quickly gave way to a comfortable-Soviet-hospital (just garnished with a copy of my chest x-rays I found in the move. Eesti demanded it before I could start working (--not that I work, officially--) so they could check if I had TB or not. Apparently being cleared for not having TB is still not enough for the residency permit, though.). I digress multiple times.

The area used to just be empty fields that were undeveloped for.. well.. over half a millenia. Then the CCCP happened. Around the late 70's and early 80's the Soviets went on this mad overenergized trip and built loads of panel housing, before massive protests in the mid-80's forced development to stop. As for myself, I live on the eighth floor of one of the early ones.. judging by the rate of decomposition of the exterior of the building. The Soviet Union really focused on efficiency. For example; my faucet in the bathroom doubles over between the sink and the tub, and the (actually somewhat amazing) use of hot water pipes sticking out of the wall and zagging (with a few zigs) around provides a towel rack.. dries and heats. My television only speaks Russian. Having one of the two exterior doors open provides light into the small hallway outside my door, so you can lock or unlock said doors with a selection of my five apartment keys (alright; four.. one is for the post). Also, the exterior of Soviet buildings serves as a visible short-term method of carbon dating. Efficiency.

I mean it though.. it is beautiful. Things are falling apart here and there, and the population lives amongst various ruins and relics often splashed with the sprayed art of youth.. though everyone is together in it. On warm days, people are sitting out, with babushki, kids and young parents alike making the way to the Russian stall-markets (basically second hand shops with more character and far more slippers). The horizon stretches out, and up, unfurled and dotted with thousands of lights, each representing people, and lives. It's the best place to feel part of something larger.. a mass of others.., and the best place to feel alone at the same time. I feel and am savouring a strong taste of settlement. Not to mention drinking on the street generally flies here.

Ian, felt I should mention and make you proud of the fact that I decided to rig up my balcony into a map room. Somewhat tempted to move the stove and my bed onto the balcony, though.

My windows face a different direction, with a calm collected view of the flurrying fury of life moving and intermoving afront, aside and below.. Rippling and surging. Кажется, что мне пора же купаться.

Edasi, вперёд..

Lõpuks (uus vaatanurk).

2008-05-05T23:27:00.004+03:00

More, and what preceded it, very soon.

Seaside tide (д начинает движение)..

2008-04-19T10:23:00.011+03:00

Nii.. so.. somewhat due for a clearing of my 'status' in some sense of the word here Eestis. Although 'clearing' implies clear visibility and a lack of obstructions, whereas the real situation is closer to being upside down at a 144 degree angle in a New Guinean jungle that is on meth and crack and pop rocks (the jungle, that is). Time for a figurative slash and burn.

It'd be interesting to see how many of the words in the last few sentences would pop up in Federal security scans.. probably just 'jungle', 'New', and 'rocks' if I was to guess. Which I am.

I've heard many eestlased (Eesti-people) here talk with wide Christmas-morning eyes about how the landscape and substance of the area has changed over the last 17 years. I can only imagine. Which is similar to my guessing, and I have already demonstrated how complete of a picture that produces. Really though, from what I gather it is an entirely different place (well, maybe not in Kopli, where the bum-perishing-in-fire rate is at about 4.2 per day given the right conditions). All aside though, and even given the major changes which have brought it into the EU and thrown into motion this complex and surprising e-government system (they are amazed that those in the States actually have to file taxes and are given the freedom and, importantly, trust to report how much they make.. here it is all pre-calculated and just a click).. all of the changes are just as balanced by the ridiculous remnants and even backward motion in some other departments. As in, näiteks (for example), say, aaahhh.. mm.. Kodakondsus- ja Migratsiooniametis (Citizenship and Migration Board). To be fair, I have only experienced the Migratsiooni part of the office (which isn't important enough to be a ministry, but is on the same level as the border guards, heritage department, and the 'Rescue Board', just to put this all into perspective). I've heard of people getting their passport in a day after proving their grandparents were citizens of the first Estonian Republic (Eesti Vabariik). This is, of course, worlds different than a young US citizen with a double-major bachelor degree from a large institution, a grip on multiple languages (including the one used locally), extensive work experience and.. rarest of all, the actual knowledge of and will to live in and contribute to Eesti. Worlds apart (separate ways? That's it! This is all a riddle! I just need to grow a mustache and play a keyboard on a wall..).

So, possibly in light of a lack of attention during reforms or a fierce sometimes-exclusionist nationalist mindset, the migration process here is still.. and many eestlased would stab me with a bowling ball for saying this.. however it is still very much Soviet. I began to notice this when opening a bank account. Much is based in paradox; you can check balances using your phone, rely entirely upon the online banking system, transfer funds anywhere for payment of anything.. yet.. when you need to get the basics done, you are given at least (and this is not an exaggeration) eight different carbon-copy stamped, signed and dated (emphasis on the 'stamped' part) yellow sheets of paper. I'm now having major issues with the government over the fact that I wasn't given similar parallel documents in the States when I worked for places, cut my first tooth, and for each tongue slip made during PDA in a park summer of 2004.

KMA Officer: So this is your CV?
Adam: Jah. On küll. (Yes, certainly is.)
O: You have written that you worked at this place in 2001.. what did you do before that?
A: I.. was in high and primary school.
O: Aahh, ok write that down, please.
A: ..olgu. (Alright).
O: And everything before that.
A: Mmmm.. what?
O: What did you do?
A: .....
O: Just write down everything, starting from when you were born.
A: .....

Written: 1986 - 1991: Lived.

O: Aitäh! (Thanks!)
A: .....

I literally had to think and count back the years before I was in lapseaed (lapse:child, aed: garden). Again, that is not exaggerated and is close to word by word. If anything, I'm angered by the fact that it would be hard for me to make something like that up. Even reality trumped me there. Shit.

To break from the ranting if anything (for anyone who has survived the negative onslaught to this point.. juice and vodka break all around!) A few русские девушки (russkie devushki, Russian girls) from Peters came for a few days last week, and it was really.. revitalizing. One way in the sense that I feel after it that I could manage living in Russia for a short time (few months). Whereas Eestis it takes, on average, four years and 3.2 assorted kidneys (I'm really going for the Federal search now!) to become 'friends' with eestlased (defined as: they mention what they are doing after work), I became decently close with the girls over three days. Even more enocouraging, the entirety of those days took place in Russian. I'm not fully fluent by any standard, but it is a foundation and something I was really excited that I was able to manage and.. moreso.. enjoy! Just.. thoughts. Nearing a vodka break once more?

This is far from complete (what isn't). The next week will see some wild developments (according to the calendar). Upheavals, possibly. Revisions (- is optional). Viations (de?) Сюда(от)? Да(ту)? More '.'s to replace the upturned sentences.

Edasi..

Откуда, куда..

2008-04-17T11:55:00.005+03:00

First off, a disclaimer that this post is far from informative or even relevant to anything. So, in line with most of the rest.

I am still "here" and have not (yet) been thrown (or kicked) into any Soviet-era forced labour camps (though you can see one from my flat!).. given, saying this with any certainty is a stretch and given the daily instability of anything here, the next post might just as well come from some 'reformed' gulag in Novosibirsk, interspersed with me breaking out into literary song.. "Soiuz nerushimy, respublik svobodnykh.." I'll soon get calls and messages to those who are checking up, and I would encourage that to continue! Just need a bit of a break from my actual paid labour camp..

Wanted to make sure to mention though; people are everywhere. Really, they are. Not just people, though. People that fate deems to mix into life to either inspire you, or give you a playful kidney punch.

Case Study:

I was sitting in the cafe yesterday following a 10(something) hour day, conversing with an Esto-Russian girl, She mentioned something about how she has this odd desire to visit Texas (Russian: Tikhas) one day and how 'entrancing' the accent is there. Obviously, this presented me with an opportunity to throw in some 'yee-ha's and to, in my most grandly offensive Southwest US impersonation, talk about trucks and dogs and obesity (as a sidenote, hearing it somehow actually reinforced her interest in the dialect.. I suppose that is somewhat like me and Russian though..).

Just about to where I got to "..driive around the 'hai-wayy and beat my wiife, 'cause that's awhat we do in Texxass..", I was also complemented on how good of an impression it was from.. yes.. the Texan woman standing in line five inches away from me in Tallinn, Estonia. Alllllright! She wasn't offended of course.. being one of the few people from the state who have ever been to Estonia and having learned to drop the accent herself. However, recalled the need to realize that.. there are people everywhere.

Therefore, do your cowboy impressions louder when in obscure countries. The people might not always be five inches away, and you're going to have to shout if they are going to hear you and have such an awkwardd encounter.

Edasi..

Offbeats.

2008-03-30T23:05:00.006+03:00

Noh, nii..

Given that the last post received mixed reviews (i.e., a mix of people had no idea what the fuck I was babbling about.. well noted..), I figure it is a good time to freshen things up. That's what I am, anyways. Fresh.

It's wild how cities can shift and change in the course of a few days and a few degrees. Given people and the ability to walk around with your head down against cold and snow, the whole atmosphere transforms into something more fluid. A mere change of weather doesn't launch the urban mood into any sort of 'positive' straight away, though. It's the passing through time with people who make it all. That's what solid cities really are, so I guess it makes sense.

Näiteks; Molly came around for a week (damn NWA workers and their families and their cheap tickets and their unlimited beverages!), and really was responsible for making me as fresh as I am (not to mention how 'fly'). A week of cynicism, sunrises and sunsets threw the city and everything about living here into such a light that allowed me to feel so .. comfortable (mugav). It wasn't just speaking in English the whole time and being able to shrapnel off smartass comments left and right. Alright, that was a huge part. Though.. just traipsing around everywhere together, tasting the Minneapolis flavour mixed into the ins and outs of Tallinn life.. everything gained this sort of focus. Sunday and the last week was thus equally really difficult for various reasons. One being that sudden gap where there had as-suddenly and unexpectedly been a common perspective on everything around. Admittedly this would have been a lot harder if my mate Paul from Glasgow wasn't just around for a few weeks.. We were both in Estonian language courses last summer and share an equal disgust of old babushki cleaning mens' locker rooms (this should be a horror film, really, that's a sight that would make your heart stop beating). However even this is temporal and, though the weather is on the up and up, the presence of a somewhat developed and often-available friend base remains lack. Given the fact that I could legally be kicked out at a moment's notice and do miss the Cities somethin' teerriiiblllll', my motivation to break into the non-defrosted-freezer-built-up-ice of Estonian circles is somewhat low. There are of course many really fantastic foreigners here as well and one or two Estonian friends, with whom things have been coming together more lately, however.. it is still outside of the city flow.

Living here is living in a different current of the city. One can understand more how foreigners have to feel in the States.. where English is choppy but necessary for every interaction, and thus becomes 'work' in itself, life needs to have comfort. Thus foreigner circles develop and may permeate other circles of foreigners. It's intimidating enough breaking into circles of high school friends as a native English speaker, though to come at this from completely outside and when the culture is already so closed.. uphill fight without even being sure that you are on a hill or have a weapon. Then there is the time aspect as well, and disconnect from taking classes and being forced into other peoples' presence. It's trying to flip into the ebb and flow of the city without anything to grip or the senses to feel the rhythm. At least with close friends developed in their own way, outside of this current adventure in life, there is a common base and orientation in taking on the scene.

So, to dip this all into a bit of disclarity; I am considering. Lihtsalt (just..).. considering. I can't say exactly what I am tossing about (in part as according to my passport I am not legally -anywhere- now..), because it is straight on in the middle. Naming go versus stay or vice versa specifically would imply a progressive momentum towards such. When in fact there is a momentum, it is treading back and forth. I underestimated the State Department's need for recruiting people with no motivation or real interest in what they do in life, and resultingly did not receive the summer scholarship for Russia. Waiting on the Fulbright, though I almost feel as if I did get that it would muddle things even more. Things are slowly slipping into some sort of loose stability of unknowing anything, though for how long or if it is even something I want remains like a cloud lost in fog.

Once more (taas) I vow to make this somewhat more upbeat or interesting in short order, mix in some tales of bagged dairy products, useless elderly-garden break-ins (old Finnish guys get their kicks in weird places.. that bastard!), the illustrious Sea Lion tennis racket, techno towers and taevased. Eastern Europe is annoying in the sense that it is hard to exaggerate stories as such. As when you start out a sentence,

"And then when the Russian guy broke the bottle into his hand..."

Not even a mistranslation. It's the inevitably tinged attempts at translation of events into English which makes the region so addictive.

Eh, about time to check and see if the Migration Board is back from vacation and if I can/want to/should let the EU know that I'm in it..

Edasi..

Windnoooissee..

2008-03-26T00:07:00.017+02:00

Nii..

Right. So, I'm trudging through the midst of my first official and proper Estonian snow-hurricane (well done.. think 60 mph+ winds plus spunked up kamikaze bits of snow, dodging massive versions of the snow clearers on Washington Ave. bridge with a taste for blood), and I'm thinking, decent time for a long-needed post.

So.. Scotland.. then.. the entire B-Brilliant (deserves two first capitalized letters) last week, then the melancholy and corrosive start to this one.. then.. what my liver thinks of my kidneys and vice versa (jealousy and deception, could be a good soap). I'll leave the last one out in the interest of preserving any coherency or general sense here.

So.. fuck that is a good amount. Much smoother when this all comes out of moments and not the sorted, stocked and increasingly tactile memories of such. That is apparently how I sort things out, I suppose.. I feel like my grip on developments brushing by is much more complete when I feel my way through it in the course of conversation. Right now (nüüd, сразу сейчас) this emerges in the form of blog posts. The last week, in the form of sharp sarcasm and intoxicant cut-in comments which burst into dialogues and discourses with a sidelong friend. As if tossing about the importance and irrelevance of asjad kui появятся перед собой (eeh.. things which suddenly appear in the course of others) in a more constant time works to shape out the greater picture in a much clearer light. That is what most strive for or attempt to avoid as well.. just.. clarity. Sorting it all out in what is then closer to the present situation, with response and reaction.. support and ridicule.. the social element really shakes out cloudy perception and gives shit that brilliant imbalance towards the 'next'. Eeh..

Thus I have an inner motivation to launch off on uncharted digressions concerning my reaction to 5p card limits, rugby (Scots wiping the dainty French into the ground, to be more exact!), 2 hour tarmac tours, missing passport stamps (aahh, legal discontinuity how you made my last 'official legal' days bright..).. tumbling tales and digressions on deserted thatched paradises, fruitcardi, late-day lounging, fizz, travel trials and closed cities, glances glares and indirect lights.. it is all still brimming. More than enough to describe with inadequate expression. Figure that it will come about here just in the way that most occurs in the first place.. steeped and filtered and ultimately unexpected.

On that..

Edasi..

Oh. Right.

2008-03-25T20:28:00.002+02:00

..and I quote:

"I say a lot of things - millions of words a day - so if I misspoke, that was just a misstatement." - Hillary Clinton

I am officially voting for Obama, given the chance by the powers that be superdelegates.

Much, much more descriptive and far more provocative happenings-been in the very near future.

Edasi..

Calm, collect and skint.

2008-03-12T18:30:00.004+02:00

There is something exceedingly comforting about island life. It is as if at one time, the Celts and other populations here sat down and said "Bollocks. We live on the same bloody island, I suppose we'll have to get along in some sense." Then came the problem, and ingenious solution of how to go about this. Some places set at building churches and having massive wars against others. That has happened here to an extent, but the other solution ultimately trumps and exceeds that flawed approach.

"Let's build a pub."

The sense of community in different regions of the world are intriguing, definitely fit for (or fitting) the people arranged in these to various extents. Pubs don't fight wars. So sure, the people associated with each pub might, but there are no flags carried about. The only flag to be shown bears a title such as "Guinness," and may fly in many places. It is unity for the island, soothing out tensions and troubles from any stand of life. Brilliant.

I just stopped into Curler's pub here, a great place around the uni and filled with mainly a likewise associated crowd (in Minneapolis, think of a cleaner and somewhat more modern Bully's.. yes.. the thought may conquer and exact tribute from your mind..). After all of Eesti's somewhat pitiful attempts at bars and pubs, this was incredibly refreshing. No frills, no fluff, no napkins even; what a pub should be (this was somewhat hammered in by the presence of a sign inside posing the question, "Hungry and skint?" My answer, yes.). Shout burger (think breaded onion and bacon so large and magnificent it must be folded over itself to fit), chips and pint for 5.50p, others for 3.50p. Drink specials on Fridays. A laptop hooked to televisions playing warm pub music and accompanied videos. Expression and life itself floats through the room throughout and between tables, replacing what in other areas is only filled by smoke and silence. It is a place to sit and moan about or celebrate life together, not turned into some sort of non-passive aggressive outlook and seclusion. What spills through the pub and out amongst the streets is an upholding of that life itself, and is far less stressful. Where thought can escape, stunned realizations of even smiles coming around for no particular reason other than they may and the Atlantic winds embrace them.

Sun through clouds, capturing both here. A strong wind, brief caresses of rain in the continued presence of all three elements, the point in which all meet. Not surprising for those walking about, nothing to run from. The world here drips, the windows spotted with calm collect drops at all times. Brilliant.

Edasi..

Kui olnud välismaal võõrust maalt, когда за границе от иностранной страны (when abroad from a foreign land)..

2008-03-11T12:13:00.010+02:00

Noh. Nii.
There has been a stealthy combination of nothing to speak of and everything to speak about of late. Mainly because this has been process, and with process in its continuity, there is nothing absolute of which to state.
What follows in a sudden urge to write is more a rush of small bits and illustrious moments than a single straight-wound tale (jutt). So I start at the end.
Currently in Glasgow, Scuootln', staying in a friend's flat for a few days to stave off the hungry last days of legality in Schengen. Well, the UK cooperates on police activity with Schengen but not on the visa rules.. so.. I think I win. The conversation in Estonian with the passport control lady inquiring of this reassured me. Not exactly sure why, as when I have such necessary conversations they often devolve into me comprehending basic trends, locked in by specific understood words and numbers, corralled by expression and body language. So by these standards, I 'can' come back into Estonia 'sometime'. Given that my point of re-entry should be Finland, and hoping that the information system isn't as connected as they would hope or that the border guard is more concerned about the ringing in his ears from the previous night's death metal show, shouldn't be a problem. Getting to London for the leg of this flight on Sunday might be, seeing as all of my credit cards were blocked and my Estonian one can't be used online. Makes sense. So I might take the train down, spend a night in Heathrow (wouldn't be a trip to the UK without an overnight airport stay!). It is quite odd being here and hearing 'English' spoken around. Of course it being English is debatable, this is Scotland. The accent and slang make it something that I try to translate in my head immediately after hearing; especially after striving to do this for the last three months with every conversation heard. This isn't helped much by hearing Gaelic (however unbelievably sweet.. though disappointing when it isn't accompanied by pikes, horses and large cuts of mutton) around from time to time.
The flight here was everything that amazes me about Eesti.. actually started missing it a bit as I was leaving. The terminal is all under construction, and after waiting for a bit by the gate which we were supposed to leave from, another check on the board showed that it had been quietly changed to the opposite end of the airport. The plane was parked a kilometer or so away, so took a bus to it. Problem was that the bus driver wasn't completely sure which plane we were getting off at and we sat in front of the wrong one for a few minutes before being shuttled three more down the row. There was massive turbulence around London, seeing as a hurricane had just gone through in the morning (ridiculous, and I am serious).

I have never been in a plane that was fishtailing before. I didn't know that could even happen. Amazing though, how laughter came before fear. Possibly because there was a big group of British staggers in front joking the whole time, giving a nice air freshener of cynical humour to the cabin. In their minds I'm sure one of the first thoughts was, "Well shit, if anything happens at least BBC will be spot on in time to get us on the telly!" That and "Fancy some fish and chips?" What. I'm in Scotland now, I have a right to say that. Plus any person who willingly covers themselves in apparel advertising drinking experiences aimed at ripping through the turf while binge drinking in the establishments and populations of transforming former Soviet states can shove it. Get some fucking courage if you are going to do stag weekends. Go to Yemen.

Right, so, anyways.. Glasgow is brilliant. Staying in a friend's flat who was in the eesti keelne suvekoolis, which is on the edge of a somewhat dishy part of town (not sure if that is actual slang, though just allowing a slight influx of actual UK English into my vocabulary while here has had drastic effects as such) but is quite new, incredibly clean and IKEA (so refreshing). Given this is accompanied by literally millions of posters of Celine Dion and Eurovision paraphernalia, but that is mainly confined to the bathroom and part of why Paul is so awesome.

Walking the other direction from toothless Highlanders and their dogs throws you into some really great streets however.. loads of industrial revolution era buildings everywhere, rising and falling over the hills (aaahhh, terrain!). The wind is somewhat surprising here. Given it is moreso as I am constantly reminded of it; the door to the balcony was likely put in place by a Scot tired from a long hour of work and ready to slam some 8 pints at the pub (after the shift started at 10am). Really, though.. I could sympathize. Buying bottles of beer seems rare, even browsing the one stand of it in the market here I felt like it was far too classy (and definitely expensive) an activity to undertake. Wine goes off the shelf a bit more, spirits in the mid range. Faced with that, why not take a pint? Wait. Faced with anything that is twice the dollar, why not take a few more pints (Tori if you read this, I had somewhat of a kick .. with myself .. in the plane when I realized 1 pound equals two dooolllarrrrsssz. I hope that makes less sense to you than it does to anyone else.)

The impressions I sort out from here are quite conflicted. At first I actually was dredging down being dumped back into Western culture, suppose in a way it takes less effort from me in daily life to prove that I am a part of it. Getting by seemed too easy in a way, being understood by and understanding everyone around me offsetting. It's been seeping in though, and I really enjoy the place. In one end, it's still not my home culture.. in another, it's provocative to stumble on the differences with British culture and society as well. It's a bit foreign to me again, and at the same time, something which would with proper drive and application (and funding, fucking hell did I complain about the conversion rate yet?!) could become part of my life, and lived. It's a bit cloudy as of now to try to digress more upon, however.. it's incredibly interesting. Some things are startlingly familiar, some faintly, some even set aside from anything touched upon before. It's in comprehending, acquiring and mixing these elements that everything focuses as its whole over time.

Näiteks; plastic bags. Don't need them. Carry them around with you, saves loads and once you see people diving through entire puffed up wads of them at the market it is sickening in a way. Alright, I didn't pull out the bag I always carry with me immediately here: I need to stock up on more bags to take back to Eestisse (score!). A somewhat lighter demeanor, the open possibility for banter, the openness and liveliness of friendships seen around the streets.. these however are well placed elements of the society. Obviously there is always the increased possibility for pricks as well, however that is what comes out of waking up every morning and thinking "What sort of smoothie should I have?" instead of "I wonder, if this unmaintained Soviet apartment made of cigarette butts collapses, will the asbestos, spent uranium stored in the walls, or infected needles from the apartment above me kill me first?" Complex.

Ну ладно уже, piisab. More to unfurl soon under the irony of island skies and fresh rain. Eyes drawn to ida (East).

Edasi..

Напоминание.

2008-03-05T22:38:00.004+02:00

Here's to Stephen Feinstein. A "great man," controversial for the sake of controversy itself.

Hope and King.

2008-03-02T01:24:00.004+02:00

Nii.. this post is again a long time coming (and loosely coherent, as a warning). This presents me with many difficulties.. choice of a topic, for example. Not that I actually choose one before writing or plan out where the random escapades will embark from or head towards. I could go on about how immersion is running. Where I am working (to various shifting degrees on all levels). How I am living (physically, mentally, and what has the possibility to come and not come). How I am planning to vote in November (seriously, D's, keep it interesting and don't super-delegate the wrong choice. We all want to see Billary lose (note: thanks, Economist) but.. sooner rather than later. Keep it fair.). And so forth. Comfortable topics, most of them. Lengthy, and much over-explained in daily interactions. I find it somewhat of a problem as I am used to living in a niche in a city. I have retained this niche (an active process which I am happy, excited and bitersweetly reminiscent in continuance) and expanded it across and within continents. So, with talking out events once I figure it out for myself. Another time, I begin to set a process in personal terms and in recounting what is going on. Further out, I go for the condensed version which would be much more convenient if bought in hardback (paperback sales would give me shit).
I suppose this is selfish, in a way. When I am talking with everyone back in the States I wish much more to understand what is going on with them, hear how they are forging their lives back home. I genuinely am interested, though at the same time I have the added benefit of peripherally reliving a mental perception of familiar processes. I miss Minneapolis, I miss friends there and those scattered towards the Atlantic coast. Hearing and interacting conversationally with realtime developments in a way is a mental trip back, renewed practice in Stateside living somehow distant from my physical, NEEuropean surroundings. It is, in a way, assisting in carving out a small personal, warm and comfortable American kiosk here Eestis. Increased watching of US television over the internet has helped loads to at least normalize this uneven thirst for familiar and linguistically clear interaction. Lost and the US Office are firm examples of visual crack.
These are the sort of moments that I was once highly expectant of and motivated towards in the States. It does feel like my motivation in doing.. anything.. has been incredibly stunted. I could be illegal in weeks. I (very very possibly now) will need to leave Schengen for a while. I could be opening my own company with startup capital provided by a small coffee shop chain, towards the acquisition of said residency permit. I could (should) be in Russia in months, the States in a period ranging from 3 months to 8 months to two weeks. I have some sort of job, which is literally forming itself before me. This is the gale force wind blowing from multiple directions while I toss myself about the daily waves. While I can firmly set myself towards a constantly shifting existence headed towards a permanent status of relocation (with many interspersed periods living in the Cities), I can also see myself settled into Minneapolis and traveling often in order to fulfill this constant pull towards movement. The pulls do not conflict, however current times are a steadying and harmonization of both constants. Settling and uprooting, routine and the winds. Both are necessary in a positive sense. It is the individual ongoing negotiation without permanent resolution (being starting points for further negotiation) that this embodies.
Well, I have sufficiently stated nothing concrete of any previously mentioned currents of thought and event. Fitting that none of these currently have any concrete form themselves.
Moving around and about soon. Suggestions welcomed to help sway opinion (especially if cheap flight quotes are provided from Riga, Tallinn or Helsinki). The only firm aspects of this temporary state of nomadic movement are that it must be outside of Schengen. So far on deck for thought are the UK (including Shetland), Ireland, Turkey, Macedonia, Kosovo, and Australia.
Also any cheap places to acquire reindeer herds would be appreciated. Even nomadic life requires some sort of directional foundation.

Edasi..

Riding the waves.. ratsutaud lained.. езжающий на волнах..

2008-02-24T00:27:00.007+02:00

Nii.. really no way to describe things other than ups and downs. I really wish that I had more to stream consciousness about on random here and theres, though the last few weeks have been devoid of posts due to a more inward view on things. Not exactly a bad thing, just biding time and sorting things out. Tonight was one of the best nights I have had for.. a while. I confess that part of this does include the fact that it was mostly in English, given that this has become the main determinant of every action (what language it takes place in, not explicitly that it took place in English mind you). However.. yeah. Well done by all. I worked for the morning, was able to move myself into it slowly thanks to some mild food reactions (aaah feta..) from last night and the resulting good amount of much-needed sleep due to a wild schedule. Work (kohvikus.. in the cafe.. for those not caught up on this, first off, yes, second off, more explanation in time) was vaikne (quiet) for most of the day. Great time to catch up on last week's The Economist, in part due to the fact that Eastern Europe = Minneapolis = The Economist's version of the Wild West and subscription issues usually arrive a few days after publication. After work I watched some Office, all part of the US culture daily supplement (along with gun-toting and a ritual refusal of quartering troops), talked with Kim in DC for a while and made rice, then after delaying the evening with Shiraz and more Office set out to Vanalinna (to Old Town). After a fall through on some Americans being out that I randomly encountered here (not in any sense the worst thing to not happen), I scored some free espresso from another cafe and did some wild EU texting with my Japanese friend here in Tallinn. Met up with her, рукEesti boyfriend, some Soome girls, a few Czech guys and a German guy (who has intimate knowledge of northwestern Wisconsin.. ridiculous!). After several failed attempts to go into some bars we landed a spot in a semi-classy one with some live Latin music. It was.. hanging out. Obzhalis', prosto. Great conversations, great meetings and more to come. It might be the separation of work and social life, work in a long-term sense of locking down other languages, that has been missing and causing stress. Possibly it had been not previously meeting people that I could really connect with.. in the sense that I would feel comfortable hanging out either with pints of Saku or Hope and King, in any language. Life as a foreigner has its difficulties, which do not need to be solved by a reversion to a home culture entirely. Given, yes, and I continually feel this semi-religious sort of guilt, English is my native language and I do have an unfair advantage. However the energy which comes from a collection of foreigners meeting on the basis of that.. it's not purely the language specifically that I am comfortable with, but the global views and the various backgrounds of the fact; why the fuck are you in Estonia? Few of us have firm answers. Alright, some are avoiding conscription in Germany and attempting to scout out of it with 11 months of foreign social work. However that could be done in other EU countries connected by Schengen where Merckel won't track you down. So, Estonia. And few of us have firm answers. Which is exactly what the rest of us are comforted to hear.
Interesting developments to proceed. The mere possibility of this is enlivening and only sheds light on the connections between a lull in these and general waves of unsure inhabitance.
Edasi..

Ну вот, даааа собачка!

2008-02-03T15:38:00.000+02:00

I haven't meant for a flurry of positive-sounding posts here (kaks kokku, two total) и всё-таки я общаю что вот это будет короткым (muidu ma luban et selle saab lühike.. and I promise this one will be short barring me translating everything three times). This possibly reflects the flurry of snowstorms in the last few days lifting spirits. Aside, I really enjoy the Estonian approach to plowing side-streets for cars by not plowing side streets for cars. Autod are naturally heavy and compact snow. Enough cars on the streets, enough compacted snow. Done.
What really warms my heart is when I am walking back from Rimi (Rainbow for Minnesotans) and at the crosswalk over a busy street there is a semi-drunk Russian guy running with his three year old kid across the street, holding a bottle of beer in his other hand. Once reaching the other side and walking further he drunk-lectures the kid about guard dogs in yards and how they will fuck you up.
Warm fuzzies straight to the core.

Edasi..

Сдача не надо. Tagasiraha ei vajalik. Keep the change.

2008-02-02T17:56:00.000+02:00

Täna oli üks esimestest päevatest et ma tunnin nii kui olen kodus siin. (Today was one of the first days that I really felt like I was at home here.)

Well, home is a different sort of feeling. This was.. comfortable, pleased with things. A good haircut will do that for you. If my haircut had turned out extremely shitty, I might have been writing this from the bottle of a bottle in a ditch sapping wireless off of a homeless shack (I assume they are set up) and all of this would just be a string of characters punched from my tears falling on the keyboard. Appreciate a good haircut. Especially when it works out while speaking Russian.

Really, though.. it took a while for the feeling to develop and for me to understand what the specific flow was behind it. Over the last month, comfort and dis- of the previous have come and gone, often multiple times within the course of a few hours. Makes one a bit staggered. It takes some time for small ins and outs of thoughts and trivial occurences to have less of an impact on your overall conception of place and your life. So, I have come to attempt to ignore most of this rocking back and forth with the waves of an uprooted life. Not ignore so much, just.. deal with, and.. justify. So it takes larger happenings to really make me motion sick after a period. The little occurences keep their impact, however.. and it was one of these miniscule and usually trivial processes that gave me a fuzzy.

It is smalltalk (lobisemine).

Really, and this is one of the more difficult things to stumble into in Eastern Europe on top of that. For effective smalltalk, one needs a grip on the language at the level of a toddler (although I was really downtrodden when this 18 month old totally schooled my ass today in Estonian.. she's got it coming, just wait..). This also requires about the same level of time, dedication and immersion in the language. I was able to make remarks today three times. Ridiculous. Given, it lasted no more than a simple exchange of a sentence or two, but it is the ability to be understood and to demonstrate that you understand and can even make light of something that starts to root you into a population. The feeling is alleviating, incredibly uplifting. It also gives a new stimulus to remember words, to increase proficiency at the language from basic encouraging non-formal exchanges. Apart from these usual sentences of "Please, give me xxx" or "Excuse me sir, it isn't to my liking when you stab me" being devoid of much personality and basically mechanically reproduced utterings from a textbook, the formality of basic command and respond is tiring. I barely make every other sentence completely serious in English; this inability to joust with words has been an unrealized source of discouragement for me, apparently. Much more to go, and endlessly more up and down to come. Kuigi now, there is a renewed spark.. an increased chance of expression and things sorting out in more intricate ways. Järgmine (next), solid friends with whom this can occur.. I suggest along with this (and before this) that those dear to me in the States get your Estonian down and get over here sharpish. There is only one microbrewery in Estonia, and it is shit. I see opportunity, and free beer. These thoughts will move forth in time. Responses?

Aside of such rambling, I am shaking loose this curse of a journalist position as hard as I can, am starting a few shifts at a private cafe next week where I will speak ainult eesti keeles, applied for a Critical Language scholarship Venemaal suveks (in Russia for the summer), and have moved to the next and final stage for approval of a Fulbright scholarship here Eestis. That sentence could be another 12 paragraphs, however there is a bottle of A le Coq in my külmik. The scale weighs unevenly in this case.

Edasi..

Н и ч е г о.

2008-01-27T16:01:00.000+02:00

So, this post has been a long time coming. Part of the delay was(is-ish) a lack of any real inspiration for something to describe, revel in or moan about. Scratch the last, I have a good amount of shit to moan about, though I prefer not to do it through this forum. That's what winter ale is for (I've been mostly avoiding vodka, although a friend of mine did enlighten me with the fact that decent Russian vodka solves every problem life presents you with, except alcoholism).
The other delay in any sort of сообщение (report) is that things were slowly grinding up to a near-mental breakdown. Again, not going to go into the range of uncertainties and stresses which contributed to this state. Also I am only just leveling myself out now, with the help of a decent 3 hour walk today, some 5'nizza, and a White Russian. It had been a decent amount of time since I went out for a walking adventure, well, I suppose only about a week, but the last time was exceedingly far and as a result I almost sank into a bog in an ex-Soviet military complex. Every weekend has its ups and downs.
Made my way out to Kardrioru park on this bout. There is something about European parks that just completely fits the needs of urban living. The age of the park, size and the amount of people wandering around of all ages in the 0C (kuigi päikene!) weather.. it's a different sort of city feel. You can stumble upon it time to time in the States (walk around Loring Park on some summer day with all the 80 year old Russian бабушки), though the ones around here scattered with скамейки (benches) make it really difficult not to sit in the snow and open a bottle of Saku. To get to Kadriorg I walked through some of the 19th century winding back streets with 1920s wooden housing.. the houses are either in amazing or complete shit state (with the odd burned-out shell of one every few streets). It is completely mental, but I can't figure out what sort of apartment I would live in if I had a choice of any. One in the wooden houses would be grand, with the smell of wood stoves floating through the streets. At the same time, a fresh, modern sharp-edged piece of steel and glass is ravenously enticing (however with my recurring career choices that type would be far far off). Completely separate from both of those, and the most offsetting attraction I have (for housing; this says nothing for cheese with pancakes) is to the 1970s Soviet panel housing. Given this is probably highly romanticized for now, and would only apply if I was living in such housing alone or with a partner and 1 or 2 bedrooms and an IKEA interior.. however.. the bareness of it somehow captures me. One of my next fresh air city bouts will be to Lasnamäe, an unfinished 1980s Soviet housing project now filled with Russian speakers and heroine needles. Should be something decent to write about that.

Side note, check out the Estonian film Sügisball (Autumn Ball) if you get a chance.. it's not on DVD for a while though it might have somehow escaped with EEuropean pirating. That's the actor I hung out with and the area I'm talking about. Film about loneliness and solitude and fucking. Those come in one package all too often.

There has been a revival of русский язык for me lately as well.. partly due to my frustration with not being able to stutter out simple Estonian phrases and the basic familiarity. Partly because Russian brings with itself a love-hate sort of relationship (ironically domestic violence in Russian households probably stems from the same excuse..) along with a fantastic ability to go from romantic to repulsive. So.. in an amorous 2am flush one night, I applied for the Critical Language Scholarship with the State Department.. if it follows through, I will be in venemaa over the summer в Самаре, Нижном Новгороде, или Томске (Samara, Nizhniy Novgorod or Tomsk). All three of these could be fantastic in the way that getting drunk and speaking Russian for two months in Siberia can be (..it's a different fantastic). There is also the problem however of.. well.. what my life would entail before that and after that.. Thus winding back into my overall unease over the last few days.

So, what has this post accomplished? Just, about, shit. Exactly what I feel the motivation for accomplishing right now.

Edasi..